This true story chronicles a recklessly adventurous soundman's experiences while working in the world's hot spots for CBS, NBC, and CBC television news, then being confronted with the truth of his actions:
When the doors to opportunity that had freely flung open all of his life slammed shut, John began writing a behind-the-scenes war coverage book. A fortuitous comment led to him meeting a beautiful woman whose own work in progress dealt with the design of destiny, miracles, and apparently him: Unnecessarily, Bonnie dangled intrigues from her story to secure John's help with a particular aspect of her plot. As an average looking man, whose naiveté had been savaged in places like San Salvador and Beirut, he reasoned that a romance between them was no less absurd an idea than the premises she seemed to already embrace. And he decided to pursue her affections under the guise of assisting her.
Portentously, learning her full story was like sucking gelatin through a straw; she would say only that it involved a rescue mission of such massive proportion and intricate design that rescuers had to undergo rigorous training before they could participate. Bonnie then asked John to go through these lessons so that she could accurately portray a trainee's development. She added that without this background information, her story would sound like pure fantasy and that it was for this reason that the target's location was kept from participants until they were ready to hear it.
They subsequently worked closely, if often combatively, as she kept him at bay like a bemused fox playing with a myopic rabbit, and the friction between them regularly blossomed when his beliefs became examples of why the rescue mission was necessary. Finally, the absurdities she had brilliantly justified in her work notwithstanding, she made a claim too ridiculous to contemplate even within the context of their unfettered debates. Realizing he had been chasing a brilliant lunatic, John decided to cut his losses. However, while gathering the courage to abandon her otherwise delightful companionship and their challenging discussions, he had what would have been inexplicable experiences had Bonnie not surreptitiously prepared him for them.
And there he stood, poised like Agnes Whistling Elk had positioned Lynn V. Andrews and to where don Juan Matus had led Carlos Castaneda before her, to leap into the darkest corners of himself. The mission required it, and he knew it could be no other way.