June 23 1997
If you are reading this now, then you will have opened the sealed metal canister which has just descended from the firm’s MH-6 ‘Little Bird’ black helicopter – and rapped upon the glass of your drug rehabilitation ‘cell.’ Take note. This paper will self-incinerate in 60 seconds.
Thank you for letting me visit you immediately upon receipt of your last missive. This mission would not have been possible had you not let me implant a Radio Frequency Identification transponder into the skin beneath your shoulder blades. I hope the small battery has not been too knobbly and impeded sleep? I have needed it – in conjunction with my transport’s thermographic cameras – to locate your position with exactitude. After all, it you appeared to be napping on your single divan – and glowing yellow in the dark – I would be required to rap with greater force upon the window with the steel-descending cable. And do not underestimate pet, the fine motor controls required to keep a helicopter in trim, with an equality of torque above and to the rear!
This is possibly not the moment, but I may just have time to fill you in regarding the historical use of ‘little black helicopters’ in the US of A. These were built specifically as a means of stealth surveillance of that country’s citizens in the early part of this decade. You may have seen the prototype – which had a capacity for virtually-silent flying – in the film ‘Blue Thunder.’ You will barely be hearing the swish of my rotor blades at this present moment. Nevertheless. I am overhead. And, of course, if an object – such as a person – was implanted with ‘active’ Radio Frequency Identification, the ‘little black helicopter’ would be equipped to read the emitted ultra wide band radio waves, from some hundreds of meters distant. You are a tracked object pet!
I will proceed to the point of my epistolary communication however. If Miss Fothergill plays up – and I intend to visit once the no-visitor (and confiscation of your mobile telephone) period is over – then rest assured that I will certainly pick her up and transport her out to the Gobi desert in Mongolia. She may well spend quite some months emerging from this destination, as I hear that ‘desertification’ is proceeding apace and extending the expanse by some thousands of miles – in all directions – every year. Of course, I may have to borrow the firm’s Sikorsky UH-60 ‘Black Hawk’ for this purpose; it is more accommodating!
Aunt Evangeline (‘C’ – retired)