by Darrell Bain
"Bailey, what..? Then she felt the presence of Amber's mind, almost incoherent with concern for their safety.
Unable to sense the evil in the minds of the men intending to kill him, Bailey almost lost his life by hesitating until he saw the men were indeed intent on shooting him. Only Amber's gunfire from next door saved his and Pat's life. The unexpected burst of shots from the room where the kidnapping was supposed to be taking place startled the gunmen aiming at Bailey for just an instant, long enough for Bailey to fire his weapon. Unlike Amber, one of his shots didn't hit squarely and his opponent was still able to fight back. He dropped to the floor and fired his pistol, keeping Bailey and Pat down while he retreated toward the door in an attempt to escape. He got no farther than a foot or two beyond the entrance when Amber shot him down. She did not hesitate, not at all.
"Bailey!” Amber shouted as the last killer fell. “Mom! It's me!” Cautiously, she eased forward and sensed Bailey's mind relaxing as she ran into the room. She dropped her gun on the floor and ran to her mother, tears streaming down her face. She and Mom embraced while she sobbed with relief that they were all alive. She was still trembling and her ears were ringing from the loud noise.
Pat put aside her own emotions in order to comfort her daughter, not yet aware that Amber had killed two people and assisted with the third's death.
While Mom petted and hugged her, Amber filled Jimmy in on the details mentally, those he wasn't already aware of. She tried desperately to make herself calm down enough to be understood by him. Eventually, she succeeded.
"Are you okay, sweetheart? Lumpkin?” Bailey asked Pat and Amber as he searched for his phone. He was already calming down, and the sound of sirens in the distance made him realize that some kind of explanation to the authorities was going to be needed quickly.
"I'm okay, Bailey,” Amber said. “So is Mom. Go ahead with what you have to do."
Bailey began dialing.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Tarker Blackmon was a retired Major. He had served in the Army Special Forces, first as an operative until a wound put him undercover in the Pentagon's Office of Special Investigations for his last year of service. He finished law school before retiring early and immediately went into the FBI, fully recovered from his wound. He stayed only long enough to become disgusted with the ultra-cautiousness at the management level of the agency. They protected the agency's image first and the public second. He was looking for more challenging work when Project Omega recruited him. Now he was just finishing the brief conversation with Ray Hetrick.
"I'll have a couple of men there as quickly as I can Ray, just on your say so. They may be too late to keep the incident out of the papers, but no one will ever learn exactly what happened. I just hope this is important as you say it is. We don't like short circuiting the regular law enforcement agencies unless it's absolutely necessary."
"Good. I'll tell you all about it soon as I can get out there. You won't be sorry, believe me."
"Good enough. It would help things if you come aboard, though."
"Consider me recruited, as of now."
"I'll pass the word upstairs. Okay, glad you're with us. Meet me there."
"Where will I find you?” Ray asked.
"It's a small town. I'll find you. Just get there soon.” The phone went dead.
Ray smiled grimly at the abruptness. His old friend never was much for long conversations and hated wasted time. Tarker Blackmon was a tall, brown skinned mixture of Caucasian, Amerindian, and African American heritage. On him, the mixture appeared to have been well stirred. He was soundly built and handsome in the rugged fashion that attracted women. For all the good it did them, Ray thought. He had been married to the same woman since he was eighteen and his wife seventeen. Tarker would get the job done. In the meantime, he had other calls to make, but he was extremely grateful that he and Tarker had become friends during the man's brief tenure with the FBI, or he might never had heard of Project Omega. Tarker had attempted to recruit him right after he retired. The mind reading phenomena had been the convincing factor. Ray made some more calls as he headed to toward the airport. From there, he would fly to Los Angeles and rent a car.
* * * *
Before the police arrived, Bailey told Pat and Amber not to speak to them but to let him do the talking. He realized they could be in some major trouble as a result of the killings. Even if they managed to absolve themselves by claiming self-defense, they could still be arrested for carrying weapons in California without a license.
"They were trying to kill us. All we did was shoot back,” Bailey repeated over and over to the county sheriff. They had no attorney to call here, but he knew he would have to find one quickly. At least Amber would be able to pry into his mind when the time came and decide whether he was competent and honest. That was one good thing.
The police separated all three of them over Bailey and Pat's protests. As they were led to separate patrol cars, one county and two local, he said “Remember, don't talk to anyone until I can find an attorney.” Amber and Pat nodded as they were urged away from him.
All three were still sitting alone in the back seat of each of the patrol cars thirty minutes later. Crime scene technicians were going over their rooms and the adjacent area when a commotion began. A large, dark gray sedan pulled into the parking lot and two middle-aged men got out followed by a woman a few years younger. Bailey had to crane his neck sideways at an uncomfortable angle to see what was happening.
One of the men and the woman produced what were apparently some kind of credentials while the other man made his way in the direction of the county sheriff. Shortly, all of them were engaged in conversation. It went on for almost a quarter hour before one of the men came over to the car Bailey was in, accompanied by a disgruntled looking detective. The detective spoke to the patrolman in the car.
"Let him out. This is some sort of federal business."
Bailey heard the order and breathed a sigh of relief. Without asking who the man was, he followed him. Even before talking to him, there was something about his confident stride and bearing and the simple clothing that made Bailey want to trust him. Amber only reinforced that feeling when she smiled at the stranger and quietly said “Thank you.” He knew he could trust her impressions.
They collected Pat, and as soon as they were out of hearing of any of the officials, the man halted and finally spoke to them.
"We're friends of Ray. You're coming with us. Give me your keys so someone can collect your luggage and weapons and bring your car later without attracting attention. I'll explain on the way."
"Where are we going?” Pat asked as Bailey handed over his keys.
"To some place that's safe for the time being. I don't know enough yet to make any other decisions."
All this time, Amber had kept in mental contact with Jimmy. It was his invisible comforting presence as much as her parents’ that had kept her from extreme emotional distress. He helped her to avoid thinking of the way the woman had looked when the bullet hit her just below the throat. In her hurry, she had aimed a little high. She slid into the back seat of the big sedan with Pat and the woman while Bailey sat in front with another of the men. None of them had given their names yet.
Amber suddenly thought of how Jimmy was living in an unprotected neighborhood. She turned to the woman. “Can you protect a friend of mine? He might be in danger, too."
"Where does he live?"
"Los Angeles."
"Address?"
Amber had to get it from Jimmy. It took a few seconds to make sure she was getting the image of the numbers and street correctly then she gave them to the woman.
"We'll try to take care of it,” she said while taking her phone out of her purse, “though from the looks of that scene back there, you people—whoever you are—seem able to take care of yourselves.” The barest hint of a smile graced her stern countenance, making her look younger and more feminine. She dialed a number and began giving instructions. A
fter she put the phone away, she said, “It may take longer to get to him than it did for you folks. We don't have that many field agents free right now."
"Thank you,” Amber said. She would breathe easier now knowing Jimmy was going to be safe. She didn't mention Jeannie. From what Jimmy had told her, she doubted that Jeannie needed protection.
* * * *
The lookout and secondary driver for the assassins drove away when he saw the shambles the operation had turned into. Who would have thought some damn doctor and a teenage girl would be armed and capable of not only handling their weapons but killing with them, too? He knew from his army combat service, before he was thrown out, that many people froze when the moment of truth arrived. These people certainly hadn't! As soon as he was safely out of the area, he called his superior and reported the development.
Brazos got the word an hour later. He considered the situation for a moment and decided it was time to take the boy into custody rather than waiting until his father was gone. He cursed himself now for not giving the order as soon as the brat declared he would not return to work. Well, from now on, he would do what he was told, like it or not. He met Casey in his alternate office an hour later. Casey was nearby. He called him in to reinforce his orders.
Brazos didn't greet Casey when he arrived. He was keeping his temper very carefully under control. He still needed Casey, but he knew he would have to dispose of him soon. Already, he knew too much. “The Jones kid and her family got away, damn them. Is the Burger girl pretty well under control?” He asked immediately.
"Yes, she's getting in too deep to back out now,” Casey said, trying to control his relief that Brazos wasn't raging over the failed mission to grab Amber. This was the first he had heard of it. He didn't even try correcting Brazos’ mistake. The girl's name was Morrison, not Jones. The doctor was only her stepfather.
"Okay, we can forget her for now. There'll be three of our men showing up here in a few minutes. Go with them and help. Bring the boy back here. Dispose of his parents just like I told you; make it look like a crash and carry where the homeowner resisted, and make damn certain the scene is cleaned up. You know what the field technicians look for when they investigate. Make sure they don't find anything. Is that all clear?"
Casey turned white. The moment he had been fearing had come. He felt nauseated and swallowed the bile trying to rise in his throat. “Look, Brazos, I didn't sign up for anything like this. I want—"
Brazos rose halfway out of his chair. “Yes, you did. You knew it. Now get the goddamned job done, or you'll find yourself out in the desert fertilizing a cactus. Comprende?"
"Alright,” Casey said resignedly. As Brazos said, he knew what he was doing, even if he hadn't admitted it to himself until now. He excused himself and went into the bathroom.
Behind the closed door, Casey took out a small vial, poured a tiny heap of powder onto the counter next to the basin. He leaned over and sniffed heavily, taking it all up into his nostrils. A few seconds later, he felt the powerful rush of methacoke washing over him, making him feel controlled and confident. It was a great sensation and worked much quicker than the pill. No wonder it was addicting. Not for him, of course; he was only using it occasionally.
Outside, Brazos stared at the closed door and smiled knowingly. Someone else loved those drugs, too.
* * * *
Jimmy couldn't have gone back to sleep had he wanted to. Amber was still emoting, and it impacted him almost the same way it did her. The emotion was so strong and engulfed so much of his mind that it took a while for him to realize he might be in immediate danger, too. He slid out of bed and dressed. He started to leave his room to go wake his parents, then stopped. He remembered what had just happened with Amber and her parents and went back to his room. His gun was hidden in the recesses of his closet where Melissa wouldn't find it while hanging up clothes. He brought it out, chambered a round, then stuck it under his belt and let his shirt hang out to conceal it. He knew his parents wouldn't let him carry it if they knew. He left his room this time and went to warn his parents.
"You had a bad dream, Jimbo. Go back to bed,” Joe Gomez said sleepily.
Jimmy shifted impatiently from one foot to the other. “It wasn't a dream, Dad. Some men did try to kill Amber and her parents. They may be coming here, too."
"It was a dream, I said."
Melissa was awake. “Joe, maybe he does know how to read people. Maybe we ought to—"
"If he could tell what people were thinking, they wouldn't have fired him the first day of that so-called job. They found out pretty quick he couldn't do that."
"It isn't that I couldn't Dad. I just wouldn't. It's not nice to pry at other's people's thoughts. Besides, it's scary sometimes."
"Yeah, right. Listen, I'm tired of this. If it'll make you happy, I'll get my gun out and put it by the lamp here. Okay?"
Reluctantly, Jimmy left Joe and Melissa's bedroom and went back to his own. Rather than sleep, he brought his computer online and began playing a game, one where he didn't have to think much and could keep part of his mind alert for intruders. He tried to contact Jeannie and see if she knew anything then drew back. She was asleep, but the normal pattern of her sleeping mind was different.
Drugs. She's still doing them, he thought miserably, wishing he could do something about it. Despite his good intentions, by early morning he dozed off, with his head on his crossed arms where he had rested it for a moment on the surface his computer desk.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Even though he hadn't said anything, Casey knew Brazos was furious at the outcome of the attempt on the Jones family. He also knew that he had better not foul up himself, or he would be on the receiving end of that anger when it boiled over. He remembered Brazos’ parting words: “After we grab the Gomez kid, maybe we'll have some leverage over the Jones girl, too."
Casey was surprised when Brazos called him again.
"After you've finished this job, come back here. If I haven't gotten to it yet, I want Jeannie Burger in my custody too, along with her parents. If you get the assignment, bring her and her parents to my place."
"Do you want the parents alive?"
"No, you fool, bring their bodies here. Of course I want them alive. Now get busy."
* * * *
This is almost too easy, Casey thought as he followed one of his men silently inside the home and toward the master bedroom of Joe and Melissa Gomez.
The other two men split up to check the two smaller bedrooms, not knowing which one Jimmy was in. Casey waited behind his partner while he slowly and gently turned the doorknob and eased the door open, using only a penlight to see by.
Casey had supplemented his last hit of methacoke when they arrived, and now, he was riding a double high. He shoved the other man toward the larger figure visible in the dim light while he moved toward what must be Melissa's side of the bed. Just as he was raising his silenced weapon, a voice split the darkness.
"Mom! Dad! Wake up!"
He fired as Melissa began sitting up, a half second behind his partner's shot. Neither paused to see the result, for a louder gunshot reverberated through the house. Casey led the way out of the bedroom, running and cursing. The boy must have woken up, he thought. Why didn't those idiots silence their weapons?
Jimmy awoke with an overriding sense of danger blurring everything else in his mind. He had done so in enough time to save himself, but not Melissa or Joe. He barely had time to scream a warning and pull his gun from beneath his shirt when the door to his room was flung open. He was waiting. He fired immediately at the man who was holding a weapon. The noise startled him. He barely regained his senses in time to shoot the other man, the one holding the handcuffs and duct tape. At the same time the awful impression of bullets crashing into his parents’ skulls almost overwhelmed him. The full sensation of their minds being shocked suddenly into death was stunning in its impact. It paralyzed him for a moment, but knowing there was nothing he could do for them allowe
d him to escape. He ran from his room and out the back door just ahead of Casey and the other killer. Behind him he heard Casey yell as someone fired a gun. The bullet whistled past him and impacted somewhere beyond.
"Don't shoot, you idiot! We have to have him alive!” Casey yelled angrily, not the least because he knew Brazos would be even angrier than he already was if Jimmy escaped.
Jimmy ran down the alley and sprinted between his house and the one next door toward the street. He heard footsteps thudding behind him and ran even faster. He jumped a hedge and cut across the lawn of their neighbor's home and then across the street. He darted between two other homes and down another alley. At first, he didn't know where he was going; his first impulse was to simply get away because he had no idea if other gunmen were near and simply not emoting at a level he could detect. A couple of minutes later, he realized he had instinctively headed toward the little park a couple of blocks from home. He kept weaving in between houses and running down alleys while keeping part of his mind focused on Casey. Before long, he reached the park and got out of sight, going to ground behind the bank of a little depression where short stubby trees hid him from sight. There he waited.
Amber was still asleep, as was Jeannie. He wanted desperately to let Amber know what had happened and to warn Jeannie if she ever came out of her stupor. Jimmy lay still, trying to slow his breathing so that no sound escaped. Casey and the other man were still searching, but he could tell Casey was frantic now and had no idea where he was. He kept trying to wake Amber and Jeannie, but it was after daylight before he felt the touch of Amber's mind.
* * * *
Amber and her parents had been taken to a house in a sparsely populated neighborhood beyond the western outskirts of Los Angeles. Amber hadn't paid much attention to where they went because she had been busy embracing Jimmy's mind from a distance. They had all been shown to bedrooms and assured they were removed from any other danger. Pat and Bailey were still sleeping when Amber opened her eyes and began moving. The first thing she did was try to contact Jimmy and find out how he was faring. Seconds later, amidst commiserating with Jimmy over his parents’ death, she was running toward the big bedroom where Pat and Bailey were. Knowing they were sleeping, she knocked loudly once then burst inside.