SECTION 09

Deirdre relaxed in the quarters provided to her by her hosts, in exchange for her knowledge regarding Canada and what she knew of their plans.
While she had first come into contact with the U.S. Military at Hector Field, in North Carolina, she was now quartered at Cheyenne Mountain, where she was being debriefed, again, and undergoing testing to see if she was transmitting any sort of signal from any hidden devices.
With the strained relations between the two countries, she didn’t really blame the Americans for their apparent paranoia.
Deirdre cooperated in every way.
She submitted to X-Rays, CAT scans, MRIs, and a plethora of other technical scans and tests. She was, however, somewhat amused at the American doctors’ attempts to medically explain the shape of her ears, and her blood type, which matched nothing they’d come into contact with, up to that point.
When the military ‘brass’ would speak to her, in debriefings, she was certain they thought she was holding back, though.
At first, they were unable to believe she was nearly 60 years old, when she told them that, as near as she could piece together, she remembered waking up, one morning in the fall of 1943, somewhere in Philadelphia.
She clearly remembered waking up, and what season it was, but she was unable to remember how to speak, and had no memory of her life up to that point. She was only able to piece it together, Deirdre had told them, through her research of the times, and events going on at the time.
Deirdre idly wondered what it would take to join the military in America, and rise to officer status….
Politicians with military background seemed to command more respect, in America, after all.

Her thoughts were drawn back to the present by the questioning.
Major Quentin stared at her, narrowing his eyes, “So. Miss Jones. You …. woke up in Philadelphia… you couldn’t speak… yet you ended up in Canada, in Canadian Military no less… How do you explain this?”
Deirdre met his gaze, unwavering, “I spent the first few months, living off of scraps I could find in garbage bins, Sir, and I was making my way north, for no particular reason, that I can think of. I watched people… listened to them… I picked up a few phrases in English, and I found that men had the most money back then, and kept it in their wallets, in their breast pockets, or in the back pocket of their pants.
“It was relatively simple to acquire the wallets and mimic what I had seen others do. I picked out food, and clothing, then traded it for the paper that was in the wallets. Yes, sir, I was a thief, a common street rat, until I was taken in by a couple in New York, Dr. Claudius Jones, and his wife Camilla. A wonderful black couple. Dr. Jones was a medical practitioner, and he worked with crazies. They taught me to speak English, and how to survive, and deal with people. In 1952, after being with them for several years, we had a falling out, and I left. In 1973, I wished to come back into contact with them, and tracked them down, where they had moved in Canada… Toronto, to be specific…
“Well… Here it was, 29 years after they had originally taken me in… eh… it took me a while to track them down… and while they had grown quite old, I did not appear to have aged, at all. Dr., and Mrs. Jones were devout Christians, you see, and after having the falling out and then showing back up, looking just the same… Well… They contacted government authorities, unbeknownst to me, and they showed up, and took me into custody. They did a lot of tests on me, and eventually, I ended up in the service, and stayed there.
“This ended up being beneficial for myself and Canada, as I could move about, and had rights and freedoms, and they could keep tabs on me, and keep me where they wanted me. Well… a good relationship can, apparently only last so long. I started hearing rumors, and then seeing how our new Prime Minister was toward America… Look… I’m not a fool. I know that if push comes to shove, Canada can’t take America, we’re simply not equipped for it. I see no use staying on a sinking ship, you understand?.”
Major Quentin ordered one of his subordinates to run a check on a Dr. Claudius Jones, and verify her story.
In the meantime, Miss Jones was to remain in her quarters, until further notice…