Chapter 63 - Trouble

Melanie was already awake, being the lightest sleeper of all the girls, as I slid gently out of bed. The beep of the gun safe opening woke the rest of the girls.

“What’s going on?” asked Melanie.

“Someone is messing with the cars again,” I said. “Someone, go wake Gracie please.”

“Why are you taking a gun?” asked Amanda.

“Cover,” I said, as I loaded the weapon.

It took a matter of moments to pull on a pair of shorts, and then I moved through the house, meeting Gracie coming out of her room, her service weapon in hand. She was wearing a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt.

“Call 911,” she said to Mary, who’d been the one to wake her. “Tell them what is happening and that there is an armed federal agent on scene.”

We moved swiftly to the door.

I’d been keeping an eye on the feed while I prepared. The perpetrator had seemingly finished with what they were doing on one of the vehicles and had moved to the other side. This time, it seemed, they weren’t content with simply damaging tires; they seemed to be scratching something onto the side of the car.

I opened the door silently, Gracie indicated that she would go one way, and I was to go in the opposite direction. “Watch for other perps,” she said. “He might not be alone.”

We slid out, ducked down, and quickly circled around the cars. I’d scanned for other minds in the vicinity and found that there was someone sitting in a vehicle about fifty yards up the street. That surprised me since I’d assumed that it was Pricktard doing the damage. Why would he need either a vehicle or an accomplice?

I reached out and froze the person sitting in the car before emerging behind the person who was currently carving something into the door of Gracie’s vehicle.

“FBI, don’t move,” Gracie yelled stepping between the vehicles and pointing her weapon at the guy kneeling there.

I guess instinct made him react, although he wasn’t exactly quick. He turned as if to bolt, only then seeing me standing, weapon in hand, blocking his exit.

“Drop the weapon and put your hands on your head,” Gracie ordered him as he stood. The implement he was holding clattered to the floor.

It was only then that I heard the distant wail of a siren. It appeared that the cavalry were coming.

Gracie moved to the perp who was starting to look familiar. She pulled one, then the other, hand behind his back, cuffing him. I wasn’t sure where she’d secreted her cuffs.

Then she pulled off his hood and we got our first look at the vandal.

“Trevor?” I said surprised. “What the fuck?”

Trevor stood there, shaking slightly, his face pale with a look of fear on his face. Given his attitude the other night, I would have expected him to have been aggressive or belligerent, but he merely stood there trembling, his hands behind his back.

A police cruiser screeched to a halt outside the house. Both Gracie and I had lowered our weapons by now. I placed my weapon on the roof of Gracie’s car and stepped away a little way from it, keeping my hands visible. Gracie had her credentials held up and open.

The officers approached with their weapons drawn since they could see our weapons in view.

“Agent Gracie Jordan, FBI,” Gracie announced as they approached. One officer approached her and the other came towards me. He spotted the weapon on the roof of the car. I had my hands out to my sides, visibly empty.

“Whose is that weapon?” the officer approaching me asked.

“Mine.” I said.

“You have a permit?” he asked, and I nodded.

“In the house,” I said.

“Mind if I secure it for now?” he asked, and I shook my head.

“Go ahead,” I said. He picked up my Glock.

“It has a magazine in, but nothing in the chamber,” I said. He slid the slide back a little to confirm what I’d said.

“What happened?” he asked.

I explained that our cars had been vandalized a couple of nights before, and how I’d set the security system to alert me if someone came onto the driveway in the night. I told him how I’d been woken by the security system, woken Gracie, and then seeing that there was someone on the drive apparently doing something to the cars, we’d come out to confront them.

I also told him that I’d noticed a car down the block, which I didn’t think should be there.

His partner, meanwhile, had placed Trevor in the back of the patrol car. The officer I’d been speaking to walked down the block to where Trevor’s ‘friend’ was sitting in his car. I released him just as the officer reached his car.

He too was arrested.

“Do you know the perp?” asked the officer.

I nodded. “His name is Trevor,” I said. “My half-sister’s ex-boyfriend. He was here on Wednesday for dinner, he helped himself to our beer, without permission, and then left in a bad mood when I said that Sarah wasn’t getting into a car with him after he’d been drinking. He failed to stop for a patrol car on his way home, totalled his car, and got arrested for DUI too.

“His father is some kind of financial big shot who appears to have got him out of jail pretty quick. He must have a good lawyer I guess. My sister dumped him after that. I guess he didn’t like that.”

Gracie was standing looking at her car, which had been the one Trevor had been vandalizing. He’d flattened all her tires and scratched something on the door. He’d also started on Ness’ car, flattening two of her tires, but we’d interrupted him before he could do anything else.

It took nearly an hour for the police to take our statements, meanwhile Gracie had called the damage to her car in and was told that there would be a replacement car delivered the later that morning. Once again, they would collect her car and fix the damage.

Trevor and his ‘accomplice’ were taken away by the police, and we were given yet another report number should we decide to go through the insurance company. I decided to simply pay for the tires to be replaced. The deductible would be more than the cost anyway and it would probably increase Ness’ premium which, given her age, was already astronomical.

We all went back to bed for a couple of hours. I started my day, as usual, at four.

The tire guy came to replace Ness’ tires. He joked that his truck knew the way to our road by heart now and he hardly had to steer on the way. He must have made quite a lot of money from our neighbourhood in the time we’d been around although he didn’t know that a good portion of that money was thanks to me. I saw Pricktard watching out of his window as the tire guy worked on Ness’ car. He looked conflicted.

After the tires were fixed, I delivered Ness’ car to her again at her school, dropping her keys to her at lunchtime, before jogging home to shower and get ready for my afternoon hypnotherapy appointment at the range.

My client that afternoon was the singer with the coke habit.

“How have you been getting on?” I asked him.

“It’s not been easy,” he said. “But I’ve managed to stay off the stuff. I didn’t think I had the willpower to do it, but I have.”

I didn’t mention that it wasn’t his willpower that was responsible.

“Davey’s been pestering me though,” he said. “He keeps trying to get me to take some stuff, saying things like I’m looking tired, or I need a pick-me-up.”

“You should fire him,” I said. “He’s just going to make life more difficult for you the longer you go without taking the stuff. He’ll use every trick he can to get you back on it. You’re his meal ticket.”

“It’s not that simple,” he replied. “If I fire him, he’ll go straight to the newspapers, or my label, and tell them.”

“Would they take his word for it?” I asked.

“Mud sticks,” he said. “If anyone were to make that sort of accusation in the press, no matter whether I had or hadn’t, some people would believe it. People are always looking to find the flaws in others . . .it helps them to ignore their own.”

“So, what are you going to do?” I asked. “You’re not going to be taking drugs any more so, at some point, Davey is going to figure out his gravy train has left the station without him. What then?”

He sighed. “I have no idea,” he said. “But first things first, I need to get off the drugs.”

I sent him into his trance and checked out the Compulsions I had placed. They were still strongly in place as I’d expected. I did reduce the cravings he would feel, to make life easier for him. I also checked his body out with my healing. There were no traces of any drugs in his system. I’d done some research about cocaine and had determined that it was only detectable in the saliva or urine for up to about 4 days, but could be detected in the hair for up to ninety days after last using it. My client had very short hair and I suspected, given that, it would only be a matter of a couple of weeks before it was all gone from there too.

I wondered if I should do anything about Davey but, once again, realised that it was nothing to do with me. My job was to help my client stop taking the drugs. I’d done that already although he didn’t know that - yet. Anything more was his own responsibility.

After he left I went home. I had spent about an hour working on the paper I’d been writing when Sarah had interrupted me to ask for help with her memory. I figured I could finish it off before it was time to go for my flying lesson.

I had three more sessions of instruction before I would be able to do my solo flights. Starting those would mark about the halfway point of the course, and I was looking forward to getting my PPL. There was still going to be a lot of work to do after that, before I was ready to fly the G500, but it was certainly a start and I couldn’t wait.

Once again Arnie was waiting for me when I arrived. He looked nervous as I approached.

“Dad won’t be long,” he said. “He said to do the walk around.”

As had become our normal I began to do the external checks while Arnie looked on.

“It’s my birthday Friday,” he said.

“Congratulations,” I said.

“I’m having a party,” he continued. “Do you want to come?”

I looked at him. His aura looked both nervous and hopeful. I wondered how to handle him.

“You can bring your girls too,” he added hastily.

“And my sisters?” I asked.

“Sisters?” he queried.

“I have two sisters living with me.” I explained. “Sarah and Melanie.”

“Sure,” he said grinning. “The more the merrier.”

I quickly checked in with the girls, they seemed amused, but up for the party.

“Okay then,” I said, “What time and where?”

“I’ll leave a note, with our address, on your car,” he said. “Friday night, seven o’clock.”

I nodded at him, and continued the checks as Danny strode up to the plane.

“Ready to go?” he asked.

“Ready to go!” I confirmed.

We were just climbing into the plane, and my phone rang. Dianna.

I considered not answering but, with a look of apology to Danny, I pressed the answer button.

“Dianna,” I said. “What’s up?”

“Where are you?” she asked.

“Just about to start my flying lesson,” I said. “Why?”

“You’re at the airport?” she clarified.

I bit back my sarcasm and just answered simply “Yes.”

“We have a situation,” she said, “that you are uniquely qualified to deal with.”

“Oh?”

“A bank robbery gone wrong,” she explained. “But the perp is a user.”

“If he’s a user, why is he robbing a bank?” I said surprised.

“I didn’t say he was bright,” she said. “He seems quite strong, but seems to be struggling with his powers. Sometimes they work and other times they don’t.  He’s now holed up in the bank with several hostages, some of whom are under his control and some who are not. He is armed too and claims that he has an explosive device as well as a weapon.”

“Where?” I asked.

“It’s not too far from you,” she said, “about two hundred miles away. We were going to send a helicopter for you, but if you’re already in an aircraft. There’s an airstrip, Oakridge State Airport, ten minutes out of town.”

I looked across at Danny. “Do you know Oakridge State Airport?” I asked.

He nodded.

“Can we go there?” I asked. “Now?”

He raised his eyebrows but then nodded. “It’ll take about an hour,” he said.

“I can be in Oakridge State in an hour or so,” I said to Dianna.

“Good job,” she said. “It would take longer to get a chopper to you and then fly you down here. Get to the airport and I’ll have a car waiting for you.”

While I was talking to Dianna, Danny was doing something on his tablet computer, I presumed plotting a course.

“Why are we going to Oakridge state?” he asked as I hung up the phone and we started the pre-flight cockpit check.

“You know I consult for  the FBI?” I said. It had come up in conversation before.

“Yes,” he answered.

“They need a consult.” I replied. “Urgently.”

We finished the check and were in the air in less than ten minutes. Danny gave me a heading and an altitude to fly, and we set out.

This was probably the most boring flying lesson I’d had to date, or would have been had it not been for the fact I was wondering what was waiting for me when I landed.

“This is going to mean that you don’t get quite so much flight time this lesson,” Danny said. “You’ll only get an hour each way.”

“You don’t have to wait for me,” I said. “I’ll find my own way back.”

“You think it’s going to take that long?” he queried.

“I have no idea,” I said.

“You booked four hours, and you’re paying for four hours,” he grinned. “I’ll wait until eight. If you’re not on your way back by then, then I’ll head back. Maybe you can get another hour of flight time on the return.”

I shrugged.

We settled into silence for the rest of the flight, until Danny started to brief me on the approach to Oakridge.

“Oakridge is an unattended airport,” he said, and then proceeded to talk me through the procedure for landing there. Of course I already knew that but I said nothing, letting him explain in detail what I needed to do. I realized that he was flustered by the change in plans for the lesson and was dealing with that by relying on what he knew.

There was a dark SUV waiting on the apron, blue and red lights flashing, as I taxied off the runway at Oakridge.

I shut the engine down.

“You go,” Danny said to me. “I’ll secure the aircraft. You have my mobile number. I’ll wait here until eight. If you are going to be a few minutes later then let me know and I’ll wait. If I’ve not heard from you by then, I’ll head back and you’ll have to make your own way home.”

“Thanks,” I said. I climbed out of the plane and walked over to the SUV where Dianna was standing waiting.

She gave me a brief hug then we got in the car. She sat in the back with me and there was an agent I didn’t recognise in the driver’s seat. We set off as soon as the doors closed.

“Thanks for coming,” she said. “We could go in with a team, but we have no idea what we’d be going in to nor how any of the people inside would react. Also drugging up all our team to make them immune to powers doesn’t really leave them in the best condition.”

“Are we talking to the people inside?” I asked.

She nodded. “He’s demanding the usual. Car, helicopter, the whole nine.”

“Do we know anything about him?”

She shook her head.

“From what we can see on the security footage we downloaded,” she explained, “he walked into the bank and tried to Compel a teller to hand over a stack of money. He failed, so he pulled a gun on her. She’d already hit the alarm by this time, but then things got strange. He managed to Compel the security guard and two customers just doing their banking to back him up. That’s as far as we got before the security guard shut down the system and we lost visibility on the inside.

“He’s moved everyone into the back offices of the bank, but the armed security guard is still in the front and guarding the door. He took a shot at an officer who tried to enter so they backed off. There are snipers in place that could take the guard down but obviously we don’t want to do that, if he really is Compelled.”

“You think he might be an accomplice?” I asked.

“It’s unlikely,” she said. “But we’ve not really had time enough to thoroughly rule it out.”

The journey to the bank took fifteen minutes and when we arrived it was like a movie scene. I wondered if the entire local PD were at the bank. There were more police cars parked in the road outside the bank than I’d seen in one place for a long time. There were also three other dark SUVs as well as a SWAT van behind which our SUV parked.

I got out of the car and walked around to where Dianna was standing waiting for me. She took me over to introduce me to the leader of the SWAT team.

“Sergeant,” she said as we approached. “This is Caleb Stott. He’s the one I spoke to you about. He can deal with the guard and the perp.”

The sergeant looked me up and down. “He’s a kid,” he said.

“I’m twenty-one,” I said.

“You done anything like this before, son?” he asked.

I glanced at Dianna. I was not sure if I was allowed to talk about the white supremacist compound. She nodded.

“I was involved in taking down a white supremacist compound in Montana,” I said.

The sergeants eyes widened “Seriously?” he asked in a surprised voice.

“Caleb was first in,” Dianna said. “He was responsible for the capture of the leader and the disarming of the boobytrap bombs.”

“I didn’t disarm them,” I said. “I just stopped the guy with his finger on the trigger. It was bomb disposal that did the heavy lifting on that one.”

“And we will do the same here,” said another man who was standing off to the side. “If there is even a bomb. We didn’t see any device, but he claims to have one.”

I looked across the street at the bank. It was a single storey building with a flat roof. I noted that there were already officers on adjacent roofs but none on the bank itself. I suspected that that was due to the threat of a bomb inside.

“There are two entries,” said the sergeant. “The main door on the front, and a fire exit at the back, which is a heavy gauge steel security door. We could get through that without too much trouble, but it wouldn’t be quiet.”

“Where is the perp?” I said, smiling to myself slightly at the use of the lingo. I saw Dianna grinning at me. I knew I’d get some stick for that later.

“The whole frontage of the bank is open plan, then the tellers’ desks which are separated by a desk and bullet proof glass partition. There is one door through the partition into three offices behind the tellers’ desks. We think they are in the managers office, which is on the south west corner of the building.

“Are there windows in the managers office?” I asked.

“No,” said the sergeant. “The only windows are at the front. You can see the guard standing in front of the door through the partition. He has his gun drawn. So far, he’s fired two rounds at a patrolman who attempted to enter. He didn’t hit anything other than the door.”

“Can you show me around the back please?” I asked.

“We can’t get in that way,” said the sergeant.

“I know,” I said. “I just want to listen in. The closer I get the better.”

The sergeant looked at Dianna and then shrugged.

I thought at first that he was going to detail one of the other members of his team to take me around the back, but he didn’t, nodding his head at me to follow him. He walked down the block a little way before cutting through an alley which led behind the row of shops. The bank occupied the middle lot of the row. We walked down the alley, stepping over some muddy puddles as we went. I was surprised at the lack of garbage in the alley. Aside from the puddles it was neat and reasonably clean.

We walked past the fire door to the southwest corner of the bank. I leaned my back against the wall and let my mind roam over the inside of the bank, looking to see how many people were in there, and what I could learn.

There were twelve people in the manager’s office. The manager apparently was sitting in his own chair at his desk. He had shown the robber where the safe was and explained that, although he would normally be able to open it during the day, since the alarm had been triggered, the electronic locking system had kicked in and could only be released remotely by the alarm company.  I felt the remnants of a Compulsion on him to open the safe, although he was no longer under the control of the power user.

There were two other people in the office that were under his control though, both of whom had been customers in the bank. One of them was standing outside the office, keeping an eye on the security guard, and the other was standing over the eight other people who were sitting on the floor against the wall. He seemed to have a weapon of sorts, maybe a baseball bat, with which he was keeping the other hostages cowed.

The power user himself had a very strange feel to him. I decided that he was mentally ill. His thoughts were disjointed and erratic. He was pacing back and forward in the manager’s office talking to himself. From time to time he’d attempt to Compel one or other of the other hostages to do something but his mind was so fragmented he couldn’t make it stick. I was surprised that he’d managed to Compel anyone given his current mental state. I reasoned that he’d probably been less agitated at the beginning, but things going wrong had led to his agitation, and therefore his loss of control. The guard and the two other customers must have been particularly susceptible for him to have managed to take, and keep, control of them. The manager had apparently broken free of the compulsion and the user had been unable to Compel anyone else in the building.

I couldn’t tell if he had any kind of explosive device or other weaponry. I could simply send them all to sleep, but if I did that, and he had some kind of ‘dead man’s switch’ then I could cause the device, if there was one, to go off.

Ideally, I’d like to get in there and see for myself what the situation was. I didn’t know how possible that would be.

“There are twelve people in the office,” I told the sergeant. “The manager and eight hostages sitting on the floor. The perp has two other people under his control one of which is watching the hostages. He apparently has something like a baseball bat. The other is standing by the door, watching the guard.

“The perp is mentally unstable. He’s struggling now, and may be unpredictable. I can’t tell if he has an explosive device, but we do know he’s armed.”

The sergeant looked at me. “How do you know all this?” he asked.

“Did Special Agent Everson not read you in?” I asked.

“She said something about mental powers,” he said. “But I was sceptical. Has he really taken charge of that guard and two of the customers? I thought they were accomplices.”

I shook my head. “Not willing ones, although you should treat them as hostiles just now. They will fight with everything they have while he has control of them. I can break his control but he’ll know about it and, if he does have a bomb, he may set it off.”

“How long have they been in there?” I asked.

“Five hours so far,” he said.

“You think he’s hungry?” I grinned at him.

“We have a hostage negotiator talking to him,” he said. “You think he’ll be thinking about food just now?”

I grinned at him again. “Give me a minute.”

As gently as I could, I sent a thread into the user’s mind. He was completely unshielded. I suggested that he was hungry, very hungry in fact. He wanted pizza, and he wanted it now.

“Let’s go back out,” I said to the sergeant.

The sergeant nodded, but then put pressed the PTT on his jacket to activate his radio. I couldn’t hear what he’d heard since he had an earpiece in and I didn’t, but he shook his head, and said “We’re coming back now.”

“The perp has just told the negotiator he wants pizza,” he said.

“Of course he does,” I said. “Did I mention I freelanced as a pizza delivery boy?”

“You?” he asked.

“Me,” I said. “I’m just a kid remember. Who would be suspicious of a kid delivering pizza?”

We walked back out front and I brought Dianna up to speed, while the sergeant called the local pizza joint and ordered.

It took just under twenty minutes for the pizza’s to arrive. The police stopped the delivery at the corner and the young girl driving the car looked at us all with frightened eyes as she got out.

I went over and smiled at her.

“May I borrow your ball cap?” I asked. I was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, which I found comfortable to fly in. The pizza delivery girl wasn’t wearing any particular uniform other than a ball cap with the pizza parlours name on the front. She took it off and handed it to me.

The sergeant paid her for the pizzas and gave her a hefty tip.

“I’ll expense it,” he said when I raised my eyebrows at him. I laughed.

The negotiator called the bank and told them that the pizzas were here.

“Get the delivery driver to bring them in,” the perp ordered. “No police.”

The negotiator made a token resistance but allowed himself to be bullied into complying with the demand. I picked up the pizzas, put on the ball cap, and headed for the door of the bank.

The guard eyed me as I approached.

“Just a kid,” I sent into his mind gently. “Looks like he’s still in school,”

He walked to the door and unlocked it, then waved me in with his revolver. I feigned reluctance.

“I was told not to go inside,” I said. “Just to hand you the pizzas.”

He pointed his gun at me. “Inside now!” he snarled.

Trying to look like I was trying not to look scared, I entered the bank. The door was closed and locked behind me.

The guard walked me over to the partition door and keyed in a number on the keypad. The door buzzed and he pulled it open.

“Go on through,” he said. “Office to the right.”

I went to step through but then he put his hand on my shoulder, stopping me. I looked round at him.

“Leave me one,” he said, and took the top box from the stack I was carrying.

I passed through the partition door and went down the short hall, past the man holding the office door open, and into the manager’s office.

Inside it was exactly as I expected. There were eight people, a mix of bank employees and customers, sitting on the floor against the wall. A young man in his mid twenties was standing over them holding a bat in his hands. He had his back to me. The manager was sitting at his desk, both his hands laid flat on his desk, while the power user was pacing back and forth. I couldn’t see any evidence of an explosive, but I found the manager’s pose a little weird.

I walked over to the desk and placed the boxes of pizza on it.

Now I could see what was going on, I could see the threads of Compulsion leading from the power user to the guard, the man at the door, and the man with the bat. Normally those threads were thin and uniform but these threads pulsed and writhed, almost pulsating. I also saw a thread going to the manager. From the outside of the building, I’d thought that he’d thrown off the compulsion but I could see now that he was still controlled, although, again, the thread was wildly fluctuating. I must have looked at him just as the power had failed for a second or two. Now, however, it was back and seemed solid.

I looked at the manager’s hands and noticed that a wire went from beneath one of them and snaked over the edge of his desk. The explosive I presumed. The perp had nothing in his hands and since he was dressed as I was, in nothing more than jeans and a t-shirt. I could tell that his only weapon was a revolver that he had currently, for reasons best known to him, stuffed down the front of his pants.

Now I knew the situation, I could take control.

First, I made sure that the bank manager would not be able to move so much as a single muscle. Then I sent everyone in the office to sleep. The perp and the two men falling to the floor. The guard in the front office was also sent to sleep. He fell to the floor still munching on his pizza.

Once I was satisfied that everyone was sleeping soundly, I disarmed the perp and took the bat from the man by the hostages. I used the bat to prop open the partition door and walked over to the guard, turning him onto his side to make sure he didn’t choke on the pizza in his mouth. Then I took his gun and walked to the front door of the bank, unlocked it and walked outside.

I was met by the sergeant, who had watched me through the bank window as I walked across the lobby.

“What’s the situation?” he asked.

“They’re all napping,” I said. “You need the bomb squad to go and check the manager. I could see a wire under his hand on the desk. I didn’t investigate further.”

“What about the other hostages?”he asked.

“All asleep,” I said. “They’ll wake up in about ten minutes as will the perp. You might want to go secure him.”

The SWAT team stormed into the bank and emerged a few moments later dragging the perp, now handcuffed yet still sleeping, out with them. Other officers went in and between them half carried, half dragged out the rest of the hostages. Only the manager, who was still sleeping but held completely still by my TK, was left inside.

One of the bomb squad officers suited up and went into the bank. He was in there less than ten minutes before he came out grinning.

“It’s a dud,” he said. “No explosives. Just a couple of wires going into a bag under the desk. I couldn’t move the manager though. He seems to be welded to the desk somehow.”

I released my TK hold on him and woke him up. A few moments later he wandered out of the front door of the bank, looking bemused. A couple of officers went over to him and took him in  hand.

Dianna had put a collar onto the perp and he was loaded into the back of one of the dark SUVs.

Looking around, I noticed that the pizza delivery girl was still standing at the edge of the cordon, watching. I wandered over to her.

“Thanks for the loan,” I said handing her back her cap. She took it from me.

“You went in there alone,” she said.

“They wanted pizza,” I returned.

“I’m Laurie,” she said.

“Caleb,” I replied.

“Nice to meet you.” She paused for a moment, as if weighing something up. “Can I get your number?” she asked.

I smiled at her.

“I’m engaged,” I said, and she gave a little moue of disappointment.

“Just my luck,” she said. “Well, nice to meet you, Caleb.”

“You too, I said.”

She turned and started walking back to her car. It was only then that I appreciated just how pretty she was, and she had a very very nice rear. I watched with appreciation. When she reached her car she turned to look back at me, and saw me watching her. She gave me a grin as she got in and started the engine.

“You could stay over if you wanted,” said Dianna having watched me watching the girl. “I’m sure the girls wouldn’t mind.”

I grinned at her. “It’s a school night,” I said and then looked at my watch. Seven fifteen. The whole episode had taken just over an hour.

“Can I get a ride back to the airport?” I asked. “I should be able to get the back end of my lesson in.”

Dianna shook her head.

“I’ll call by tomorrow to debrief,” she said. “I need to know what happened inside.”

“Okay,” I said. “I’m free all morning up until one, or if you want to come over for dinner tomorrow night?”

She grinned at me again, and I shook my head.

“Agent Peters will take you back to the airstrip,” she said. “I need to take this guy in.”

Peters was a taciturn man who didn’t say two words to me all the way back to the airport. He pulled up by Danny’s plane and I got out. I didn’t even get chance to thank him for the ride. As soon as I closed the door he took off.

Danny climbed out of the cockpit and walked over to me.

“All sorted?” he asked, and I nodded.

“Okay then,” he said. “Let’s get back to it.”

When I arrived home, I was mobbed by the girls. Dianna had called Mary and let her know what was going on, in case I didn’t manage to make it back that night. Rather than describe the entire event, I simply gave them all the memory of my evening, from Dianna’s call to my arriving back at the plane to fly home.

“You should have given her your number,” Amanda said predictably. “She was very cute.”

“That ass,” said Louise. And she and Amanda nodded together. I laughed.

Sarah looked at Amanda with a scandalized look on her face.

“Don’t you…” she began, but then seemed to remember.

“He needs to share,” she said, almost as if explaining it to herself.

“He does,” said Mary. “And sometimes we have to persuade him to do it.”

Sarah shook her head.

“It’s weird,” she said. “I know you explained it to me, but it goes against everything I learned growing up. And yet. . .it seems right. Right for you guys, at least. I’m not sure how I’d feel about it, and I guess I’m glad I don’t have Empathy. I’m not sure I could…”

“You don’t have to,” I said to her pulling her into a hug. “You just have to be happy and find someone you want to be with, when you are ready. I’m going to suggest that you find someone a little better than your last boyfriend though.”

“His father called me,” she said. “Wanted me to ask you to drop the charges against his son. Said he would make it worth your while.”

“Did he now?” I asked. “And did you mention that one of the parties was the US government since it was a government vehicle that he vandalized?”

“I just told him to go away,” she replied. “Then I blocked his number.”

“Probably for the best,” I said. “I don’t think he has anything we want.”

“He is very rich,” she said. “You might be turning down a lot of cash.”

“I’ll manage,” I said smiling at her.

Ness went out into the kitchen and came back with a plate for me.

“Your dinner,” she said handing me the plate and some cutlery.

+++++
Tuesday’s were pretty unremarkable days for me. I had the morning free and spent it catching up on all my schoolwork. I had three hypnotherapy sessions on campus in the afternoon, one of which was a new client. She was a girl who was more than a little overweight. She came with her friend which was good. What was not so good was that she was deaf. Completely and absolutely.

I sat back in my chair thinking about this. How could I hypnotize a deaf person. I’d never even heard of it.

“Take a seat,” I said to the pair, and they both sat.

“You read lips?” I asked, and she nodded. “And do you use ASL as well?”

She nodded again.

“We’ll start with lip reading then,” I said.

After getting her to read and sign my consent form, I explained that I wanted her to count backward from one hundred, all the while reading my lips. I told her that she’d fall into a deep sleep, but keeping her eyes open and watching me at all times.

She looked a little nonplussed at this, as if she didn’t believe me, but she complied, and less than fifteen seconds later she was in a deep ‘trance.’

I’d always wanted to learn ASL and this was my opportunity. I was also surprised that I could learn from her how to read lips. That might come in very handy in the future.

During my next session, which was a weight loss repeat session, I decided to take some time to talk to Tatarabuela Gonzales.

I’d been meaning to talk to her for a little while, but just hadn’t got around to it. Now I had just short of an hour to kill, so I took the opportunity.

“It’s been a while,” she said taking the seat opposite mine in the featureless room I’d conjured up.

“It has,” I said. “A lot’s happened.”

“I saw,” she said. “And the answer is yes, you can.”

“All of them?” I asked and she nodded.

“Melanie, Sarah, and Ephraim are your family, so they are mine too,” she said. “Mary and Amanda don’t have Compulsion so I wouldn’t be able to help them, and Jules and Ness don’t have compulsion either. They do have some power but it’s weak.”

“Empathy,” I said. “From their grandmother I think. Jules mentioned it a long time ago, but neither of them seems to be able to do much other than detect when Empathy is used on them.”

“They are not training their power?” she asked. “Why not?”

I frowned.

“It’s so weak,” I said. “It’s not worth it.”

“How much can you lift with your TK?” she asked me.

“I don’t know,” I said. “I think around forty thousand pounds.”

“And you could do this straight away?” she asked.

“No,” I said. “I needed to…” I tailed off as I realized what she was saying.

“They will never be as powerful as Mary or Amanda,” she said. “But if they train hard, they may become powerful enough to be able to shield, which will protect them from most wilds.”

“What about their longevity?” I asked.

“That is genetic” she said. “They either have it, or they don’t. Just because they aren’t powerful doesn’t mean that they aren’t long lived, but it’s likely that even if they do have an extended lifespan it won’t be as long as yours. Your best bet is to find out how old their grandmother was when she died, and watch their mother and see how she ages.”

“Cheryl looks really good for her age,” I said, “I’d put her age at closer to thirty or even late twenties than her actual age.”

“Then that may be your answer,” she said. “Don’t get your hopes up, and certainly I wouldn’t mention it to them, but with a little luck, you might find those girls last longer than you anticipated. But whatever, get them to train.”

“I will,” I said. “Thank you.”

That evening, when I got home, I told Melanie and Sarah that I wanted to talk with them.

We were just settling down on the deck when Dianna arrived. I’d forgotten she was coming, but it was no problem.

“Caleb,” said Dianna as she came out of the house, “that was outstanding work last night. Sergeant Dawson was very impressed. You made a believer of him.”

“It wasn’t difficult,” I said. “I’d have done it from the outside had there not been the suspicion of a bomb. I couldn’t tell from out there which is why I needed to go and see for myself.

“Whatever you say, it was well done,” she said. “I need to debrief you though.”

“Can I just give you my memories?” I asked. “I didn’t think last night, but it might have saved you a trip.”

“And she didn’t remind you,” said Ness, coming out onto the deck, “because she wanted to score an invite for dinner.”

Dianna grinned at her unabashed. “Are you sure you don’t have powers?” she asked.

I laughed. “You don’t need to score invites,” I said to Dianna. “You know you’re always welcome.”

“Give her the memory,” said Ness. “Dinner’s ready in any case.”

Swiftly I gave Dianna the memory from the previous night. She nodded as she assimilated it.

“I’m putting you down for a full day’s pay,” she said. “Since you lost out on your flying lesson, you’ll have to book an extra one to make up the time. It’s only fair we pay for  that.”

I shrugged.

“And that pizza delivery girl,” she said. “I gave her your number.”

“What?” I asked. “Why?”

“Because you and she are probably going to meet up again,” she said, “in the not-too-distant future.”

I looked at her, expecting further explanation, but she simply gave me a smug grin and refused to say more.

“You’re into fortune telling now?” I asked grumpily and she laughed.

“Mark my words, young one.” she said in a scratchy voice. “You and she will cross paths again.”

“What happened to the user from last night?” I asked.

“He’s been admitted to a mental hospital,” she said. “It’s attached to the Psi prison facility. He’s suffering from several mental disorders. Fortunately, his power wasn’t overly strong and his illness prevented him really getting to grips with it. From what I can understand, he’d used it with varying degrees of success. Sometimes he got everything he was after and sometimes he got an ass kicking from the people he was trying to control.

“It made him reluctant to try and use his powers. But he was getting desperate and decided to try once more. He took the gun as backup and you saw the result.

“Poor guy,” I said. “Can he be helped?”

“It will be a long road for him but, with medication and therapy, there might be some hope. However, I’m not sure they will ever release him. He’s a danger to everyone around him.”

“That’s not fair,” said Dana. “The poor man’s sick. He shouldn’t be imprisoned for that.”

“He broke the law,” said Dianna, “and could easily have caused the death of at least one police officer. The guard took shots at an officer while under his control.”

“But if he wasn’t in his right mind…” argued Dana.

“I don’t disagree,” said Dianna, “and I’m going to be working with him in the medium term. But he would have to show a very serious degree of improvement before I could persuade a judge to let him out. It’s not like a Norm with mental illness. Imagine someone with mental illness, and a pair of gattling guns grafted permanently to their arms. One relapse and multiple people get hurt or killed. It’s the same here. Until we find a way of suppressing powers, he’s not getting out.”

“I could strip his powers,” I said. “Then he’s no more dangerous than any other person with a similar illness.”

“We may think about that,” she said, “sometime in the future. We may even offer him the option of having his power stripped so that he might be considered for release when he’s more in control.”

Dana opened her mouth as if to say something more, but changed her mind, and went back to eating her dinner.

“I don’t like it any more than you,” Dianna said quietly, “but it’s my responsibility to ensure that he doesn’t hurt anyone else, including himself. If removing his power makes that possible, and even makes it possible for him to regain his freedom one day, then it’s a price he might be willing to pay.”

We finished our meal and Dianna thanked Ness for cooking, and us for hosting her. As she was about to leave Dana approached her.

“I’m sorry,” Dana said. “You must think I’m a stupid kid full of ideals and values, without the experience to temper them.”

“No,” said Dianna kindly. “I love your passion and your zeal. I hope that you are able to hold onto that, because you’ll need it. Don’t let the world grind that out of you because, believe me, it will try. You must have seen the meme – Grant me the strength to change that which I can, the fortitude to suffer that which I can’t, and the wisdom to know the difference?”

Dana nodded.

“I would add…”Dianna continued, “and the passion to pursue redress when changes I want to be able to make are denied to me.

“Don’t lose that passion.” She gave a surprised Dana a quick hug and then left.

“Right,” I said to the girls as I finished loading the dishes into the dishwasher. “Family meeting.”

Mary raised an eyebrow. “Family meeting?” she asked. “Since when do we have those?”

“Since now,” I said. “Everyone out on the deck please.”

Josh looked at me.

“Are we included?” he asked.

I grinned at him. “You can come,” I said. “But it’s my girls and my sisters I need to speak to.”

He and Louise, and Gracie and Dana, chose to stay inside and give us some privacy.

We settled down on the deck. I’d brought a beer out with me which I sipped while I waited for the girls to settle down.

They all looked at me expectantly.

“I had a chat with Tatarabuela Gonzales today,” I said. My fiancees looked interested, while Melanie and Sarah just looked confused.

“Who?” asked Melanie.

After making sure that the gloryhole was well and truly locked, and there was nobody eavesdropping, I told the story of how, while we were on vacation in Spain, I’d healed Eleanor, and as a result had gained a psi-fairy-godmother.

“So what did she have to say?” asked Mary.

“She asked me why Jules and Ness weren’t training their powers.” I answered looking at the sisters. They stared at me.

“We don’t have…” said Ness but Jules cut in.

“We do,” she said. “You’ve felt it too, you told me you did. You can feel it when someone uses  Power.”

“But I thought…” began Ness.

“It’s weak,” I said. “But look at what happened to me when I tried to lift that tractor, and now look what I can lift. Tatarabuela Gonzales says that if you train, you might never get very strong, but you might get strong enough to be able to raise a shield. It won’t protect you from a trained power user, but most wilds don’t even know about shields so they wont know how to break one.”

“What do we need to do?” asked Jules.

“I’m guessing that your power is Empathy,” I said. “So, the best people to help you…” I looked at the twins, and they both smiled widely and nodded.

“We’d love to help you guys train,” they said, once more, in perfect unison.

“That doesn’t get any less creepy,” complained Ness.

I turned my gaze on Melanie and Sarah.

“I also asked if I could give you the same protections as I have.” I told them. “She said that since you are family, she would be happy to look after you two as well. And E, but I’ll speak to him separately.”

“What does that mean?” asked Sarah.

“It means having a part of her, inside you. She would be able to use your powers to protect you. She would manage your shields and protect you from psychic attacks. For you, Sarah, that will mean that you will have a very experienced power user watching over you, and able to protect your mind using your own Telepathy and Compulsion to ensure nobody takes control of you.

“Melanie, since you have the full suite, she can even use healing on you should you get injured. She can’t use your powers external to your body though.”

“And she lives in your mind?” asked Sarah. “Aren’t you worried she’ll take over?”

I smiled at her.

“I was,” I said, “in the beginning. But I’ve lived with her in my mind for a while now. Most of the time I forget she’s there. I’ve not needed her protection so far, or at least I don’t think I have. If I have, I didn’t notice it. However, I feel much more secure, knowing that I have her at my back. She never sleeps, so I can, knowing that if someone tries anything while I’m asleep, she’ll catch it.”

Sarah looked at Melanie. “What do you think?” she asked.

Melanie looked at me. “I trust Caleb,” she said. “If he says it’s the right thing to do, then I’m happy to do it.”

“Don’t let her guilt you into it,” I said to Sarah. “You have time to think about this. I’m not going anywhere, nor is the Tatarabuela. You don’t have to decide tonight.”

“No,” said Sarah. “She’s right. I do trust you, and if you think it’s the right thing to do, then I’ll do it too.”

“Are you sure?” I asked. “I don’t know if we can remove it, although I’ll bet we can.”

“I’m sure,” said Sarah. “What do I need to do?”

For a moment I was nonplussed. I didn’t know what to do, but then the knowledge presented itself to me. With a mental nod of thanks to the Tatarabuela Gonzales, I looked at the pair.

“Drop your shields for me,” I said. I could have worked around them, but I wanted them to know that I wouldn’t do that. I wanted them to know that if I needed to access their minds, for any reason, I’d ask permission. Both of them instantly dropped their shields.

I extended a tendril into Melanie’s mind and felt a gentle warmth move into her as the consciousness that had been caring for me copied itself into her mind. I did the same with Sarah and once again felt that gentle warmth.

Once it was done, I saw both of their shields snap back up, far stronger and better formed than they had been before. I smiled.

“Already she is protecting you,” I said. “Your shields are much better than they were before.”

I saw both internalize as they examined their own shields and then grins broke out on their faces.

“That’s awesome,” said Sarah. “I was really struggling to improve my shield.”

Melanie nodded. “Me too.”

Wednesday’s ethics class was not as interesting as usual. The professor wanted to speak to individual students who had decided to base their senior thesis on an ethical question. About a third of the class were doing that. The others were basing theirs on legal concepts or other subjects they were taking. When it was my turn, he asked me if I was still set on the subject that we’d previously discussed.

“I think so,” I said. “It’s a subject that I’ve been considering for quite some time.”

He nodded. “I can’t possibly hope to give you any practical guidance,” he said, “but would be happy to read your drafts and make suggestions regarding your style and arguments.”

I thanked him and returned to my seat, watching Dana move to the front to take her turn.

Wednesday night we had a visit from Trevor’s father.

I was just arriving home when a large town car pulled up across our drive. I’d pulled into the garage, so he didn’t block me, but since Gracie had not yet arrived home, he was blocking her entrance to the driveway. I walked across to the driver’s door and tapped on the window.

A man, in his early fifties, managed to look down his nose at me, despite the fact I was standing over him since he was still seated in the car.

“Could you move your car please,” I said. “You’re blocking our drive and my housemate will be home soon.”

He ignored me and stepped out of his car.

“You must be Caleb,” he said, still looking down his nose at me.

“And you are?” I asked.

“My name is Walter Greenwood,” he said as if I should have heard of him.

I shrugged. “I’m sorry,” I said. “Should that mean something to me?”

“You met my son, Trevor, last week.” He explained.

“Ah,” I said in recognition. “Yes, I did. And again, in the early hours of Monday morning.”

“Yes,” he said. “That is why I’ve come to see you.”

“Oh yes?” I said.

“I want you to withdraw your complaint against my son,” he said.

“No,” I said simply.

He looked startled.

“I beg your pardon?” he said.

“I said, no,” I repeated. “It’s not a difficult concept. No.”

“Do you know who I am?” he asked.

“Well,” I said patiently. “You told me your name was Walter Greenwood. Although I only have your word for that. Perhaps if you look in your wallet you’ll have some I.D. Since I’ve never met you before, I can’t be certain. If you can’t remember who you are, then I’m afraid I can’t help you.”

I turned to walk into the house, and he grabbed my arm. That never goes well.

The next thing he knew was that he was on his ass in the middle of the road, and I was walking toward my house.

“Move your car,” I said to him over my shoulder as he clambered to his feet. I hadn’t gone more than a couple of paces before I felt him charging at me. I sidestepped allowing him to slide past me, while leaving my foot trailing, tripping him. He crashed into the side of his own car leaving a sizeable dent in the door and bloodying his nose.

He staggered to his feet and reached into his jacket. For a moment I seriously thought he was going to pull a gun, but instead he pulled out a phone. He called a number and complained that he’d been attacked. I didn’t think he’d called the police, but certainly someone on the other end was giving advice. His lawyer, I guessed.

Ending the call, he started to dial again. Satisfied that he wasn’t going to try attacking me again, I walked back into the house and shut the door.

Less than five minutes later there was a knock on the door. I opened it to find two police officers standing on my porch. I sighed.

“Can I help you?” I asked.

“Turn around and put your hands behind your back,” said one officer. “You’re under arrest for assault.”

I looked at him levelly.

“Who did I assault?” I asked.

“We’ve had a complaint that you assaulted a man outside your house.” Said the other officer. “So turn around and…”

“Officer,” the voice came from behind the officers. I winced as I heard it. Pricktard. This wasn’t going to help me in any way.

“Officer, I saw the whole thing,” he said. “I even recorded the latter part of the altercation.”

My eyes widened in surprise.

“Who are you?” asked the officer.

“I’m Thomas Pritchard,” he said. “I live across the road. I’m also the lead of the Neighbourhood Watch.”

That was news to me, I didn’t even know we had one of those.

“Mr. Stott did not assault that other man,” he continued. “In fact, it was quite the reverse. I have it all on video if you care to examine it.”

One of the officers walked over to Pritchard, who showed him his phone, giving a commentary as he showed the footage he’d taken.

“As you can see,” he said “He attempts to attack Mr. Stott from behind, Mr. Stott moves out of his way, and he runs into his own car, injuring himself. Mr. Stott did not assault him.”

The officer in front of me didn’t look happy. I caught the thought that he was going to miss out on a fat paycheck if he didn’t take me in.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out my FBI ID.

“Do I need to call my bureau chief and ask him to come down to sort this out?” I asked.

“We’ll need a statement from you both,” said the other officer, seeing how the wind was blowing.

“Not a problem,” I said.

“Gary,” said the other officer, “Why don’t you take Mr. Pritchard’s statement. I’ll talk to Mr. Stott.”

Gary, huffed and then moved off to speak to Pritchard. His partner came over to speak to me.

“Don’t let him drag you down,” I said to the officer in front of me. “He’s dirty, and if you don’t distance yourself from him, you’ll go down with him.”

“He’s my TO.” he said. “I can’t…”

I heard from his mind that he was in a terrible place. He’d seen his TO do some things that he didn’t agree with. Nothing to egregious, but enough to show that he was not beyond taking some consideration for looking the other way from time to time.

The problem was that, even as a new recruit, he knew that if he turned his partner in, his career would be over. Nobody would want to work with him ever again. He’d be labelled a rat and nobody would trust him. Partners had each other’s backs, no matter what. Even if he moved to another department, it would follow him. Someone would make sure it did.

I felt sorry for him, but again decided that this was not my fight, not my problem. I wasn’t going to roll over and let them arrest me for something I didn’t do, but now that was dealt with, largely thanks to the last person in the world I’d have expected to have my back, the problem was someone else’s.

I gave him my statement and they left. Greenwood had already left by the time the police had arrived, presumably to go get medical attention. I wondered how he would react when he found out that I’d not been arrested after all.

I should have known that we hadn’t heard the last of this, but I naively thought that having bloodied him and survived the aftermath, Walter Greenwood would limp off to lick his wounds. I underestimated his reaction. He was rich and used to getting his own way. I’d been instrumental, as far as he was concerned, in his son’s girlfriend dumping him, in him totalling his car, getting arrested for DUI, and then subsequently getting arrested for vandalism.

All I had to do was do as I was told and things would have been fine, but no, I refused to kowtow to him, and bested both him, and his attempts to have me arrested. He was not happy.

I found out how not happy he was, when, just after ten that night, the front door of the house was kicked in, and three men with baseball bats entered.