Talented (30 page)

I flipped the note over and over in my hands.  I straightened the intricately folded paper triangles that threaded into one another – securing Erik’s secrets inside.  I couldn’t muster the strength to smooth the crinkles and read their contents; I guess I wasn’t ready.

Laying his letter on the pillow next to my head, I stared at the small shape until my eyelids were too heavy to hold up.

I woke up with the sun the next morning.  I tried to fall back asleep since I had no reason to get up so early, but the morning sun had kicked up the temperature in the apartment, until it was uncomfortably hot.  Dragging myself to the bathroom, I turned only the cold water knob in the shower.  The bite of the frigid water abruptly woke my senses.

I fished a purple dress, much like the blue one that was still crumpled on the apartment floor, out of the small closet and quickly dressed.  I wanted to leave my curls loose around my face, but knew I’d be too hot.  I settled for piling my hair into a messy up-do on the top of my head.  Today I selected the camera eye lenses, and popped them in one-at-a time.  I debated
strapping a knife belt to my waist, just in case, but decided against it, opting for just one blade fastened to my left thigh.

Today my goal was to get ground images of the outside Crane’s compound.  I had all of the aerial images and floor plans that the Cryptos had compiled, but I figured that more
intel could never hurt.  There was always a possibility that I’d learn something new.

Crane’s residence was set several miles back from the strip, surrounded by yards of metal fencing.  There wasn’t much around the home, so I needed to be careful to remain unseen.

My dress clung to my sweaty skin as I approached the gates to the Crane place.  There were no guards stationed outside, but the fence surrounding the property was likely charged with electricity.  I blinked furiously as I strolled the length of the metal cage, my eyes trying taking in every inch of the exterior.  The house itself was a stone architectural masterpiece.  It stood four stories high and stretched the length of three average-sized houses.  Ornately carved double wooden doors marked the main entrance to the home, and large glass windows with dark curtains dotted the front face.

I opened my mind as I walked and felt a buzz of activity from within.  There were so many people inside that I couldn’t get an exact count, but I estimated somewhere between twenty and thirty.  I was able to determine that no humans were patrolling the exterior, but I could feel animal minds.  I’m not as good with animal minds as I am with human ones; I could determine the general location of the animals but nothing exact.  Pretty much all that I knew was they were behind the back of the house and they were all real animals – no Morphers.  I wanted to get images of the back and sides of the house, but the animals might give me away.

Heading back to my apartment, I felt somewhat dejected.  The images that I’d actually been able to get didn’t give me any new or different information.

I flopped onto the uncomfortable blue couch in the living room/kitchen area with several handfuls of dried beef jerky and crystallized purple plums.  The food was dry and unappetizing, but I was starving and would have eaten twigs if they were put in front of me just then.  I uploaded the images to my communicator, only to confirm that none were useful and my morning had been a waste.  I groaned in frustration.

After I ate, I still had several hours until I was supposed to meet Kyle.  I spread out on the bed and tried not to move too much; I didn’t want to sweat any more than absolutely necessary.  I pulled out Erik’s letter again.  Staring at his familiar handwriting, I felt a little less lonely.  My sweaty fingers smudged the ink as I traced the letters of my name.

An hour before I was due to meet Kyle I showered again, partially to calm my nerves and partially to get the salty layer of sweat off my body.  The sun had already set, and the temperature had cooled slightly, but it was still warmer than I was accustomed to.  I opted for another dress, even though I knew that if things went south, the dress was likely to hamper my movements.  I selected a relatively short, loose-fitting dress from the closet, in the hopes I wouldn’t get tripped up in the skirt part.  I elected to go with the weapons belt this time, feeling immediately safer once it was slung across my hips.  The dress had pockets in the folds of the skirt, and I cut the lining open, so when I reached into the dress through the pockets, I could easily grab the blades from my belt.  I still had the camera lenses in my eyes, but just in case I needed the others I stuffed them in the small bag I’d carried last night.  Erik’s letter, still sitting on the bed, caught my attention. 
On impulse I grabbed it and threw it in too.  Having it close to me almost made me feel like he was here with me.  I took a last deep, calming breath before heading out the door to meet Kyle.

The pub was crawling with Coalition men when I arrived.  I immediately went on high-alert.  Two Coalition men were stationed by the glass doors, searching everyone before they entered.  Crap.  No way could I let them search me.  I could convince them not to, but if other’s noticed, the situation could get out of control quickly.  I started to panic.  What to do, what to do?

“Anna!” Kyle called, walking through the door and pulling me out of the line.  “She’s with me,” he said to his cohorts.  The guards each gave me a curt nod, I gave them a thin smile in return, being sure to blink as I looked at each man.  Kyle led me to a small table along the wall farthest from the bar.  He even pulled out the chair for me.  His small, gentlemanly gesture sent a pang of guilt through me.  I hated using him; even if he was the enemy, he’d been so nice to me.  I surveyed my surroundings, blinking as quickly as I could in order to get as many pictures as were feasible.

“What’s going on? 
Why all the security?” I asked innocently.  I already knew the answer;  Ian Crane was either here or on his way here.

“President Crane is here,” he nodded to something behind my left shoulder.

Snapping my head around, I searched for him, seeking him out.  Finally, I locked eyes with him.  The room seemed to go silent, as if the only two people who occupied the room were Crane and me.  A tidal wave of rage nearly consumed me.  I felt rabid, and the only conscious thought I could form was “attack.”  I felt my nose twitch as my lips curled into a snarl.  Clenching my fists at my sides, I dug my fingernails sharply into the fleshiest part of my palms.  The pain brought me back to reality. 
Focus,
I ordered myself. 
Killing Crane in front of all these people is a bad idea
.

I
blinked slowly, hoping to get a clear picture of his face.  My eyes were dry from wearing the lenses all day, and I felt the one in my right eye slip.  I froze.

It was unlikely that Ian Crane’s sight was as good as mine so the rational part of me knew that there was no way he’d noticed from across the room.  Even if he’d seen see the purple iris, it didn’t really mean anything.  After all, the Coalition was anti-Talent and, while not all people with off colored eyes were Talents, many Talents did have distinctly colored eyes.  I was willing to bet that many people in Coalition territories wore lenses to hide their true eye color.

I opened my mind to make Ian Crane forget what he’d anything seen, but as soon as I opened it, I snapped it shut again.

When I first went to the McDonough School, Mac had taught me the sense-strengthening exercises that I still used today.  In return, I trained Mac’s mind.  I worked every day with him, teaching Mac to identify mental intrusions and, eventually, to block them.  I was willing to bet that, despite Ian Crane’s stance on Talents, he’d had similar coaching.

He held my eyes for a second too long to be chance.  When Ian Crane finally pulled his gaze from mine, he turned to the man on his right, careful to conceal his lips as he whispered in the ear of the shorter man.  The man gave a quick nod and took off towards the door.  Panic now warred with my fury.  Did he know who I was?

Gritting my teeth, I swallowed over the lump in my throat.  Crane thought that there was something not right with me.  I couldn’t be sure he’d been conditioned against mental intrusions, but I was positive that he could feel that something was different about me; the realization was written all over his face.

Mac had often said that most people can feel exceptionally strong Talents, and he’d explained that’s why most people have some sort of reaction to me.  For some, the power that I –or any other strong Talent – exude unnerves them causing them to shy away from me.  For others the power was like a drug, drawing them to us.  By the way that Ian Crane had just looked at me, I knew that he was a mixture of both.  I didn’t need to read his mind to know that he feared the power he didn’t, and couldn’t, understand.  Yet he also craved it, wanted to be close to it.

Crane knew just by my presence that I was exceptionally strong – that was the only explanation for his interest in me.  The Coalition, and Crane by extension, might reject the idea of
being Talented,
but with just one look, Crane had confirmed that his inner-circle consisted of strong, rare Talents.  He was clearly intrigued by them, drawn to them.

Kyle was talking about something that I’d missed entirely, but luckily he seemed oblivious to my blank stares and lack of response.  I let him babble about nothing through dinner, being sure to insert the appropriate “oh really” or “you don’t say”, so he would think that I was paying attention.  In reality, I was plotting my next move.

I’d prepared myself to go into Crane’s place tonight, but I’d hoped that it was going to be a first, “get myself acquainted” kind of trip.  Now it looked more like it would be a quick and dirty, once-over kind of trip.  Mac was not going to be happy.

I ran through a mental checklist of the items in my bag; I had all three pairs of eye lenses and my portable communicator.  Once inside, I would be able to take as many pictures as times I could blink.  If all went according to plan, I wouldn’t come face-to-face with Ian Crane.  If I could manage to avoid Crane, tonight I would be able to use Kyle a little longer.  If things didn’t go according to plan, I would be forced to make a hasty escape from Nevada.  My only hope was that I’d be able to take Crane’s life with me.

The waitress arrived with our dinner, bringing me back to the present, and out of my head.  I forced myself to eat the chunky beef and vegetable stew that Kyle had ordered for me.  I was going to need all of my strength tonight and all I’d eaten today was the dried meats and fruits in the cabinets of my apartment.

Take me back to Crane’s house
, I ordered Kyle, as soon as I finished inhaling the stew.  Kyle immediately threw some money on the table, grabbed my hand, and began leading me out of the pub.  Several of Crane’s other men watched us wind our way through the crowded tables, but nobody tried to stop us.  I took that as a good sign.

Crane himself was holding court in the center of the room.  His eyes bore into my back as I walked past his table.  Holding my breath, I willed myself to act normal.  The urge to attack him was still
strong, I gripped fistfuls of my dress in my balled-up hands to keep from lashing out.

Kyle led me out the glass doors.

You overhead us saying that we’re going back to my apartment
, I directed to the guards as we passed by.  I wasn’t positive that it took in either man’s mind, since I didn’t make eye contact – not a necessity, but definitely a help – I did see one guard giving the other a knowing smile out of the corner of my eye.

I was firmly tuned in to Kyle’s mind; his every thought was filling my own head, as if he was speaking out loud.  His inner monologue consisted mostly of thoughts that simultaneously disgusted me and made me blush.  It was odd being connected to the
mind of somebody who didn’t know that I was there.  Sure, I sometimes read the minds of people around me, but I’d learned early on that I really didn’t want to hear every thought that passed through somebody else’s subconscious.

The connection wasn’t strictly one way; opening up my mind to connect with another person also made me extremely vulnerable.  I could usually control the thoughts of mine that the other person saw or heard, but not always.  Like with Erik.

Donavon, Erik, and Henri had permitted me to read their thoughts.  All three guarded parts of their minds that they didn’t want me to have access to.  In return, I didn’t dig around to find out information that they didn’t want me to know.  Well, I rarely dug around . . . in Henri’s mind.  I admittedly took some liberties with Erik’s, but in my defense, Erik could always tell when I was in his mind and he’d never told me to get out.  I thought my connection with Donavon had been more absolute but seeing as he managed to keep an entire affair from me, so I knew there were recesses of his mind I’d never penetrated.

I felt bad openly listening to Kyle’s mind.  It felt wrong and dirty, like I’d made him take off his clothes and sit naked while I interrogated him.  I had to keep reminding myself that I was one of the good guys, and he was one of the bad guys.  He was associated with the people who’d killed my parents, and tried to kill me, would have killed me.

Kyle drove us the short distance from the pub back to Crane’s temporary residence.  I took note of the passcode he entered at the gate, as the numbers flashed through his mind.  Once inside the barrier, he pulled around to the back of the stone house.  I blinked rapidly, turning my head from side to side, taking as many pictures as I could.  Kyle parked the vehicle in a small, relatively empty lot behind the house.  He turned to face me, one hand on the button that opened the vehicle doors.  His thoughts turned anxious; he was having misgivings about bringing a stranger into Crane’s home.