Fate hands me proof of conspiracy - but the Nazis wouldn't care.

I returned to work on Monday to the same environment. I was beginning to believe my situation was hopeless and that no one would ever believe what had happened and what was still happening. There was no way I could ever stop the senseless destruction in my life, but the one sense of victory that I could have was the ability to relate what had been done in such a convincing manner that no one would doubt me. But I was beginning to believe that was a lost cause too. Who would ever believe that what was happening to me at RAM was related to a trial rigging at Gamma Supplies and how would I ever remember all the evidence after several years? And it really did seem insane that my coworkers were conspiring and acting out scenarios just to make look and act insane. And of course, my truly insane captors really believed they could drive me insane. The time, effort and cost was so great, it did not seem like I could succeed. If I had these doubts, who would ever believe me?

Just when I was beginning to loose the battle, fate gave me some much needed proof. One day as I was exiting the laboratory, I stepped into the hallway and heard two people talking in an office diagonally across from where I was standing. I could not see who was talking and they could not see me as I paused to hear;
You know, the guys are getting a little tired of this thing with Russ, and all the things we have to do to him. I was too anxious to see who was talking to listen more. I walked in front of the office doorway in time to see a co-worker and my former manager Gene Leski. The co-worker stopped talking immediately, and they both just stared at me. I hesitated and then went on my way. I was elated. My co-workers were getting tired of having to constantly harassing me and at least on of them was complaining to management. For a brief moment, I had hope. Indirectly, I had someone else trying to stop the torture of me. Not only that but I had proof that there was a conspiracy agains me. It was not my imagination.

Several minutes later I returned to the office. Since Gene was gone, I approached the co-worker and asked him an innocuous question. He turned bright red and answered in a very nervous manner. He knew I had overheard his remark. I left his office feeling relieved because no one could now doubt my claim that I was being harassed. On the other hand, it meant that "they" would only be happy if they did drive me insane. The only course they and their twisted minds could pursue was to totally destroy me.