Edgewood Series: Books 1 - 3 (76 page)

“I have a question,” I said, raising my hand. “It’s about Nadia. Have you tried to get her parents to let her come?”

Mitch shook his head. “At this point in time, it doesn’t look like Nadia will be able to join us. To be honest with you, Russ, we’ve never had a parent turn down one of our opportunities. Nadia’s mother is a tough nut to crack. We’ve offered financial incentives and scholarships, but she won’t even listen, which is making it difficult.”

Mallory crossed her arms. “How about using mind control?” she asked.

“We’re working on getting one of our operatives into the home under some other guise, but so far we’ve been denied access. As I said, she’s one tough lady.”

I said, “How about just taking Nadia by force? There has to be a way to get her out of the house.” When we were in Peru, David Hofstetter had said that Nadia and I would be essential to this mission because of our specialized skills, notably her astral projection. Having someone who could travel anywhere on a moment’s notice and stay absolutely invisible was like having the perfect spy on your side. If this trip was so important, wouldn’t she be invaluable?

There was dead silence for a second before Mitch said, “Believe me, we’re exploring every option. If it can be done, it will. That’s not my job, however. My job is to prepare the three of you, and
your
job is to listen and learn. I will require your complete attention during these sessions. I can’t stress how important this mission is.”

His partner, Will, said, “Any other questions?’

“I have one,” Carly said. “What exactly is this mission?”

“It’s a trip to Washington D.C. Our objective is to thwart a known threat by the organization known as the Associates.”

“Yeah, yeah, so you said.” Carly waved a hand dismissively. “What I’m asking about are the specifics of the plan. What threat are we talking about and how are they supposed to thwart it?” She put finger quotes around the word thwart.

“That will be covered later.”

“You’re asking each of these kids to put their life on the line, and you can’t tell them what this is about?” Carly’s voice echoed in the cavernous space.

Dr. Anton, who hadn’t said a word up until this point, only nodding when we first walked in, held up a hand. Even though it was summer, he had on a suit coat over a button-down shirt and creased trousers. The bow tie he wore today was polka-dotted, a fun accessory to a serious outfit. “Carly, I understand your reservations, especially in light of what happened to David Hofstetter. I have my concerns as well, but I have an inkling of what this is about, and I can assure you they will be safe. I spoke to someone at the top just last week and this mission involves national security. I was told that there is a major threat to the office of the president.”

Carly’s mouth made a grim line. “And that threat would be?”

Dr. Anton said, “The Praetorian Guard has reason to believe that an assassination attempt will be made at the Presidential Black Tie Bash. The target is most likely the president, but may include her daughter, Layla, as well.”

“So you’re sending these kids right into the middle of something deadly? For crying out loud.” Carly spat out the words. “What’s wrong with the Secret Service? Are they on vacation or something?”

Mitch said, “The Secret Service will be doing their usual exemplary job. We’re not worried about weaponry brought into the Bash; that’s impossible given the safeguards in place. The kinds of things we’re worried about involve superpowers and that’s where these three come in. Any superpowers utilized by the Associates can’t match what these three can do. Having them there is an added security measure. We very much hope that their skills aren’t needed.”

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Carly said, sighing.

Will said, “Carly, I know you mentioned being unemployed. We wanted to let you know that if you get a job in the interim, we have a substitute available to take your place on the trip. While we think it’s admirable that you want to be with your brother, we don’t want you to miss out on any opportunities.”

Carly’s laugh came out in one quick, explosive burst. “Yeah right.” She gave him a withering look. “Well, I have to tell you that while I think it’s admirable that you’re thinking about
me
and
my
opportunities, I
will
be on this trip so there will be no need for a substitute. Thanks for mentioning it, though. I appreciate your concern.” I knew that Carly had been working for a temp agency—her solution to making some money between now and the end of summer. It was an agency she’d worked for before. This time around she was doing office work for a manufacturing firm that distributed fishing lures and hunting supplies. She hated it, but it was, as she said, better than nothing.

Will nodded. I had the feeling he knew it would go this way.

“Moving on. You will be fully briefed at a later date,” Mitch said hurriedly. “Until then they don’t want to disclose too much for security reasons.”

Before Carly could object again, Will launched into what we’d be doing during these meetings. “We have two goals,” he said. “Number one concerns fine-tuning your powers, and increasing them if possible, and the second involves the logistics of the mission.” Each session at the warehouse would be considered training, he told us. We’d be practicing anything we might encounter on the trip. “This includes protocol for a formal event, ballroom dancing, understanding event security, and using your powers as needed. We want you to be over-prepared, if possible, so that you can handle anything you encounter.”

“We’ll begin by working with your powers,” Mitch said. “Who wants to go first?”

Jameson stepped forward, both hands in his pockets, like he was one cool guy. “No point in saving the best for last. You might as well start with me.”

Mitch reached down, opened the plastic container at his feet, and pulled out a red rubber ball. Will then pulled out an electronic tablet, and started fiddling with the keyboard.

“We're playing dodgeball?” Jameson asked, his voice all snark. He pointed at Will. "And he's keeping score?”

“Not exactly.” Mitch walked toward the pallets stacked with burial vaults on the far side of the room. He stopped thirty feet away from us and set the ball on the concrete floor. He called out, “We want to test the power of your telekinesis, both for distance and force. Do you think you can make the ball roll from where you're currently standing?”

Jameson sighed, the same way he did when he thought someone was being stupid. I'd been the target of that sigh more than once. “Yeah, I think maybe I can.”

"Okay then!" Mitch rubbed his hands together eagerly. “Let's see what you can do.”

Jameson rubbed his palms back and forth, mimicking Mitch, then wiped his hands on the front of his jeans. He held an arm out like he had Harry Potter's wand. “Move that ball!” he yelled.

In the past, I'd seen Jameson make a salt shaker slide across a table, lasso a man with a leather cord, make a cell phone float in the air, and get pieces of paper to levitate in a circle, so I knew he had the power to move objects with his mind. But being tested on it was different. How was he going to do under pressure? The group’s eyes locked on the ball as we all watched for movement. Slowly, very slowly, it inched forward in a jerky, almost imperceptible motion. Mitch's face fell; he was hoping for more. Just then, I glanced Jameson's way and saw a glint in his eye; and that’s when I knew he’d been holding back. A second later the ball picked up speed, barreling toward us as if it had been kicked. Mallory shielded her face when the ball approached, but it stopped right before it hit her, changed direction and headed for the ceiling. It zigzagged up and down and then circled around us, going so fast that the air whistled as it went past.

Mitch's eyes widened in amazement. And then the ball went straight toward him, struck him in the head and knocked him unconscious.

Russ

Mitch’s head hitting the floor made a loud thunk, amplified when the sound echoed off the high ceiling. “Oh my word!” Rosie said. Instinctively, we all rushed forward.

“I can’t believe you hit him that hard,” Mallory said to Jameson, as we stared down at Mitch who lay face up on the floor, his eyes closed.

“I thought he’d duck.” Jameson’s words made him sound uncaring, but judging from the look on his face he was a little shaken up. I don’t think he had as much control over the ball as he wanted us to think.

Dr. Anton knelt next to Mitch and checked his pulse, then searched his head for injuries. “I don’t believe that the ball was the problem. It was hitting the floor that did him in,” he observed dryly. “His breathing is fine.” Mitch’s eyes fluttered and he attempted to sit up. “Easy now,” Dr. Anton said, guiding him back down. “Why don’t you just lie still for a few minutes?”

“I have an idea,” Will said. With all the commotion, I hadn’t noticed that he’d held back and was frantically typing into his keyboard. “Why don’t we have Russ use his powers of healing to bring Mitch back up to speed?”

“Russ?” Dr. Anton said.

I shrugged. “I can try.” I saw Jameson’s smug look and immediately regretted not sounding more confident. Once again, he was going to turn this into a competition. Well, if that’s the way he wanted it. “I mean, of course I can do it.”

I knelt down across from Dr. Anton and let my hands hover over Mitch’s upper body to assess his condition. “The pain and injury are limited to the back of his head. It doesn’t feel serious.”

“Probably just a concussion,” Dr. Anton said thoughtfully.

I held my hands over the top of Mitch’s head and closed my eyes. I had done this before, but usually it was for far more serious injuries and I didn’t have my sister watching. Having her there made it feel weird.

“Man, it hurts,” Mitch said, probably to give me a nudge to hurry up. It had the opposite effect though. Knowing that they were all waiting for me made me nervous. I willed myself to shut the world out and concentrated on pouring all my energy and concern into Mitch’s head. I ignored the sound of Jameson clearing his throat and Will’s tapping on the keyboard. In a few minutes, something inside me shook loose and I knew it was working. Such a relief.

Mitch felt it too because he sighed and said, “I can feel the heat coming off his hands.”

When I’d finished, I opened my eyes and shook my fingers. “That’s it,” I said. I hoped it was enough.

“Mitch?” Will said.

Mitch sat up. He shook off Dr. Anton’s offer of help and got to his feet on his own. “That was remarkable.” He smoothed his hair and adjusted his T-shirt. “Two minutes ago my head hurt like hell, there was ringing in my ears, and I was seeing stars. Now I feel just fine.”

Mallory gave me a slow clap and even Carly smiled. “Not too bad,” Will said, going back to the tablet. “Not bad at all.”

Mallory’s turn was less harrowing, but still impressive. Mitch and Will brought in five different Praetorian Guard volunteers, two men and three women, all of them looking to be in their forties, and had them sit in folding chairs arranged in a straight row. Mallory was instructed to stand behind them, rest her hands on their shoulders and wordlessly exert mind control over them, one at a time. Will showed her the instructions on his tablet as she went to each volunteer. It was eerily silent. Just one teenage girl in a really short skirt, walking behind a row of middle-aged people, resting her hands on their shoulders as she went. Like a weird game of Duck, Duck, Goose without the chase. When she finished with the last one, she nodded to Will, who took over from there.

“Volunteers,” he said. “Do you have something you want to share with us?”

And just like that, all five of them popped out of their chairs and started acting like freaking lunatics. One of the men meowed like a cat, while the second one spun in circles. One woman flapped her arms, another sang the Star Spangled Banner, and the third made growling noises. It was so unexpected and ridiculous that I couldn’t help laughing. And I wasn’t the only one. Rosie and my sister couldn’t help giggling either. “It’s like a Las Vegas hypnosis act,” Carly said, her voice rising to be heard over the singing and growling.

“That’s why I’d never volunteer for those things,” Rosie said, shaking her head.

“Like hypnosis,” Jameson said to me. “Except she didn’t say anything out loud. Way to go Mallory!”

The five continued until Mallory said, “Enough!” She pointed to the chairs. “I want you back in your seats, eyes closed, and quiet.” Like trained German Shepherds, they obeyed immediately, sitting straight-backed in their assigned chairs, eyes shut, completely silent. Will nodded at Mallory, who went down the line, touching each one in turn. “Now open your eyes,” she said.

The five blinked and looked around like they’d fallen asleep on a long bus trip and been jolted awake at their destination. One woman actually stretched and yawned.

“How do you feel?” Mitch asked. In unison they all said they felt great! “Never better,” one man said.

“Excellent,” Mitch said, rubbing his hands together. “Thank you all for volunteering tonight. If you go back to the office, Tiffany will have a questionnaire she’d like you to fill out before you go.”

“Thanks folks!” Will said, as the group made their way to the door. “Much appreciated.”

“Will they remember what they did?” Jameson asked once the door clicked shut.

Will turned to Mallory. “What do you think?”

“No.” She shook her head. “They won’t remember any of it. They think they took part in a new form of meditation. They woke up feeling refreshed and full of energy. I gave them instructions for when they get home. One woman is going to go home and clean her refrigerator, another will call a friend or relative she hasn’t talked to in years.” She started to tick them off on her fingers. “The third woman will decide she needs to redecorate her bedroom. One of the guys is going to start volunteering at a homeless shelter and the other one is going to subscribe to the
New York Times
.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Carly’s words were a whisper but I was close enough to hear. “Unbelievable.”