Mad Dogs Read Online Free

watchdog and profiler for the National Security Council. I won’t even have time to go home to New York. I had two weeks between postings, but when I heard about the staff training furloughs here, rather than go sit on the beach at Hawaii—”
    â€œYou’d sunburn, Doc.”
    â€œGood, Russell, looking for the bright side of a closed-out option.”
    Russell pushed his sunglasses up his nose. “I’m so bright I gotta wear shades.”
    â€œToo bad being smart isn’t enough,” said Dr. F. “Anyway, the chance to sharpen my clinical skills, the chance to get to know—”
    I interrupted: “To get to know us broken tips of the ‘national security’ spear.”
    â€œAlways the poet, Victor. But now I want to talk about all of you through the prism of my organizational analysis, not my—”
    â€œNot your psycho —analysis,” said Zane. “Us being psychos.”
    â€œDon’t limit yourselves,” said the real doctor. “You’re more than psychos. Right now, you’re the inmates who have taken over the asylum.”
    The substitute nurse unlocked the Ward door and entered. She carried a batch of files. Took a chair outside of our circle. A quick glance showed me her reflection trapped in the dark screen of the Day Room’s turned-off TV.
    â€œWe haven’t run things for a long time,” said Zane. “Especially around here.”
    â€œYou got the keys, Doc,” said Russell.
    â€œAnd you all like it that way. No , don’t interrupt.”
    Dr. F’s gold metal glasses reflected five inmates coiled on metal chairs.
    â€œMy field is gestalt dynamics , how groups function, with a specialty of the aberrant individual in a high stress environment. But,” smiled Dr. F, “the description in my CIA file is better. In our shadow world, they call me a spotter .”
    â€œLike for a sniper?” said ex-soldier Zane.
    â€œMore like a shepherd, but this isn’t about me, so let’s get through this so nurse and I can get to the Route 1 motel and pack before we go back to…” Dr. F smiled. “Back to the real world.”
    â€œ Whoa , you found it?” exclaimed Russell.
    â€œHey,” I said: “Call Dr. F the peerless spotter.”
    â€œPeerless spotter!” obeyed Eric.
    â€œCall me a taxi and I’m out of here,” said Russell.
    â€œYou’re a taxi!” chorused Zane with Eric.
    Hailey said: “Go where you gotta go.”
    CLAP! Dr. F’s hands slapped together. He yelled: “Shut up!”
    Dr. F’s face burned red: “I bust you on being inmates who’ve taken over the asylum, and to avoid dealing with that, you try to riff away the time we’ve got left!”
    The visiting shrink shook his head. “Crazy people see with powerful clarity. Distorted vision, sure, but clear. And you’re the most insightful and yet the blindest patients I’ve ever had. Look at the five of you.”
    Eric swiveled his head to comply.
    Russell pushed his sunglasses on tighter: “We already looked at me today.”
    â€œOh really?” said the shrink. “Was that you we saw? Or your story?”
    â€œStories are what we got,” I said.
    â€œWhat you’ve all got,” said Dr. F, “is your lives made into stories instead of your lives full of stories. OK, Russell, we did you today, so we’ll skip you now. Hailey?”
    The Black woman gave our substitute therapist her poker face.
    He said: “Do you know why you keep muttering, ‘ Gotta be worth it’ ?”
    â€œBecause that’s true.”
    â€œTruth is irrelevant if you use it to drown out meaning or if you inven—” Dr. F shifted to a softer word: “If you use drama to hide what you don’t want to face. I know the horror that happened to you in Nigeria and I know the horror you did, but you’ve got to face it. Face