Psion Omega (Psion series Book 5) (19 page)

BOOK: Psion Omega (Psion series Book 5)
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Sammy watched the Tensais work together, or try to,
pointing and screaming and one even pulling his own hair. It might have been
silly if not under the present circumstances. His leg throbbed again as he
thought of his own imprisonment and the things he was forced to experience.

“Most people we bring to the showroom enjoy the
Psions,” the director stated. “They find their abilities astonishing. It
reminds them of comic books … superheroes. The four of you seem unimpressed.”

Sammy didn’t like the edge in Fabian’s voice. He
looked at the director, but found Judy staring and smiling at him with that
same nervousness as before.

Byron spoke. “We’re well briefed. I admit it is
fascinating, but nothing outside the realms of science. Now if those Zions
start flying—”


Psions
,”
Fabian corrected. “With an
s
sound.”

“My mistake,” Byron said, even managing to blush a
little.

“The Psions’ exercises are quite lethal,” Judy added
in a breathless tone, her smile a little too wide on her face. “Projectile
attacks from multiple angles force them to use creativity and elevation to
defend themselves. It coerces them to work as a single unit and protect one
another. Then we add floor sections that move about randomly, some abstract
sound bursts, and things can get tricky very quickly.”

Sammy wondered if this type of training worked
better than what Byron had done at Beta headquarters. Then he noticed something
odd. One of the Psions was bleeding.

“The holograms are harmless, aren’t they?” he asked.

“Oh, of course they’re not. Without the sense of
danger, they don’t push themselves. Exercises become too routine. But the
agents aren’t allowed to participate in these exercises until they’re deemed
ready. The danger level gradually grows with their experience. The ones you are
watching now are our most talented.”

Sammy’s attention turned to the Ultras. One of them
caught his eye. A girl, no older than him, probably younger. Her dark hair and
eyes seemed so familiar to him, though he knew he had never met her. “And the
Anomaly Fifteens? What about them?”

“The Ultras’ challenge is vastly different,” Judy
continued, her eyes lingering on Sammy in the same creepy way that Fabian
watched the female agents. “Appearing and disappearing targets, vanishing floor
tiles, and random assaults from deadly holograms. Keeps them on their toes,
forces them to multitask, tests their accuracy in action. Ultras are the most
vulnerable agents, but also the most deadly. Such a beautiful paradox.”

Sammy had seen enough, but he didn’t want to leave
quite yet. He needed to know what it was about that Ultra drew him to her. As
they walked around the S.H.I.E.L.D. area, Sammy waited until he got a chance to
speak to Fabian in private, and said, “You mentioned you can arrange … informal
visits with the agents.”

Fabian’s oily grin returned and he cleared his
throat. “I can. Of course, if I arrange something I expect a favor in return.”

Sammy fixed him with an easy stare. “If it’s my
evaluation you’re worried about, let me set your mind at ease. Do this for me
and you’ll receive my highest praise in the reports. Each of us gets an itch
scratched.”

“Good. Good. Which one caught your eye?”

“An Ultra. The younger girl.”

Fabian winked and tapped the side of his nose. “You
are a devil, aren’t you? Not only is she a rising star in their ranks, but
she’s well trained, I assure you. Are you staying in town tonight? If so, give
me the address, and I’ll send her to you.”

Sammy made the arrangement. He’d never felt more
like a steaming heap of filth than in that moment. Hours later, Sammy’s team
left the underground facility for the day and waited on the curb for Jeffie to
retrieve them. While waiting, Sammy informed his team of the deal he had made.

“That is disgusting,” Kawai said.

“Yes, but it gets us what we want much sooner than
we hoped,” Commander Byron said. “Good work, Samuel.”

Kawai shook her head, a mask of revulsion on her
face. “He kept undressing me with his eyes.”

“So what’s the plan?” Li asked. “Grab the girl as
soon as she appears at the door and take her home?”

Sammy shook his head. “We have to make sure it’s not
a trap.”

“How could it be a trap?” Li asked. “If they knew we
were spies, we’d be dead. They had fifty opportunities to kill us.”

“Kill five spies, get five dead bodies. Track the
spies to their hideout, get hundreds more. There was something off about those
people … especially Judy. She was nervous. Beyond nervous. Almost paranoid.”

“Maybe the fact that they are all freaking psychos
is what tripped your sensors,” Kawai suggested. “I can’t believe what I saw.”

“All the more reason to pull this off tonight,” Anna
said. “Do this right and we won’t need to go back tomorrow and finish our
evaluation.”

Jeffie pulled up to the curb in the SUV. As Sammy
climbed in and removed his nose filters, he said, “Nothing would please me
more.”

“How did it go?” Jeffie asked.

“Ask Sammy,” Li said with a grin.

“Why? What happened, Sammy?”

“Sammy has a hot date tonight.”

“Is it a date?” Anna asked. “More like a quick and
dirty—”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Sammy said.

The team made preparations as soon as they reached
the hotel. Since they’d planned on staying in Mexico City for two to three days
for the evaluation, they had booked decent lodgings downtown. Commander Byron
spoke with Sammy as they arranged the room in preparation for the Dark agent’s
arrival. “She could attack you at any moment. Keep that in the back of your
mind.”

It’s always in
the front of my mind
, Sammy thought.

“One thing I regret not doing in Beta training is
teaching you how to fight against Ultras.”

“What do you mean?”

“Psions are excellent against Thirteens and Aegis,
but Ultras? They have different strengths and weaknesses than Thirteens. Have
you ever fought an Anomaly Fifteen?”

Sammy thought about that and shook his head. “I
punched Toad once or twice on the way to Wichita. Does that count?”

“Be careful, Samuel.”

Room service had been ordered for two: a veal pasta,
bread, mushrooms, asparagus, and wine. Sammy dimmed the lights and put on soft
music, things Anna and Byron had instructed him to do. He wore a gray
three-piece suit with a dark blue shirt, the collar unbuttoned. Kawai and
Jeffie had dressed him, grinning as they did so.

“I’m glad you two think this is so funny,” Sammy
moaned.

“Your first date.” Jeffie giggled. “And it’s a blind
one.”

That was an interesting thought as Sammy reflected
on it. He had never spent any money on Jeffie, never taken her out to eat, nor
gone to the theater or a concert. He’d never taken anyone out before, despite
all the times he’d hung out with Jeffie.

“Some day,” he told her, “when this is all over.
We’re going to go out on a real date. Dinner and dancing. You can dance and
I’ll dine.”

Jeffie kissed his nose. “I like the sound of that.”

“You look
really
good,” Kawai said. “Does Jeffie tell you every day how good looking you are?”

“I told him how hot he looked this morning,” Jeffie
stated. “Now, Sammy, you’re not exactly the most suave guy in the universe. How
do you plan on going about this?”

“What do you mean?”

Anna rolled her eyes. “What’s your angle?” she
asked. “Judging from Director Pedophile’s behavior, these agents are used to
being pimped out for favors.”

“That’s so messed up,” Jeffie said.

“We can’t worry about that right now,” Anna said.
“Our top priority is for her to receive the anti-solution so she can’t be
traced and doesn’t blow up when we take her back to Glasgow.”

“And me having a … suave personality will do what?”

“It’ll relax her,” Jeffie said.

“Get her to trust you,” Kawai added.

“All right, ladies,” Anna said, “shut up for a
second so I can talk to Sammy. We’re dealing with a girl who’s been
brainwashed, hyper-sexualized, and traumatized through her training.”

“So I need to remember I’m walking on eggshells,”
Sammy said.

“No, I’m saying you’re walking over eggs that have
been trampled, scrambled, fried, and turned into soup. You need to be on your
toes, watch for signs of … anything. Improvise and still be delicate. And above
all, she needs—”

“To get the anti-solution,” Sammy finished, checking
to make sure the table was in the right place in relation to the chandelier
hanging above him. “I know.”

“No,” Anna said as she handed him nose filters to
put back in. “Well, yes, but she needs to feel safe. You need to talk softly
and truthfully. Don’t be afraid to show your natural self. And certainly don’t
try to pretend to be someone you aren’t.”

At ten minutes before the scheduled time, Anna
whisked everyone out of the room. Jeffie gave Sammy a quick kiss. “Be safe. And
… you know …”

“Don’t worry,” Sammy assured her. “I promise that
I’ll keep my word.”

“Any questions?” Anna asked before she left.
“Feeling all right?”

Sammy shrugged. “I’ll be fine. Just update me as
soon as you know if she’s bugged or tagged.”

Five minutes later, the hotel staff brought the
food. Steam rose off the covered dishes, the glasses were chilled, and once
Sammy got the music playing, the ambience transformed into something serene and
classy. He sat on his bed and clasped his hands, then got up and went onto the
balcony. A light breeze brushed his face while the sounds of Mexico City
floated up and promenaded around his ears. He stared down to the streets. Not a
year ago, Sammy had gazed at the city lights of Orlando and wondered how
different his life would be had he not been born with an anomaly. Now he didn’t
care.

I’m in a hotel
room pretending to be a john for a fifteen-year-old girl, which is somehow
going to help end a war.

Almost right on cue, a knock came at the door. Sammy
closed off the balcony and peered out his peephole. A girl stood outside
wearing a single-strapped gold cocktail dress showing off ample thigh and
cleavage. In her left hand was a small purse, as gold and sparkling as her
dress. Her hair and makeup looked professionally done, and she stared into the
peephole as though she could see Sammy through it.

Her eyes were brown with gold flakes, wide and
inviting. He had to admit she was extremely pretty. But also somehow familiar.

Where have I
seen you before?
When he didn’t answer right away, she waited patiently
rather than knocking again. Finally he unlatched the lock and opened the door.

“Hello,” he said, giving her his best smile.

She smiled back, part sweet and part sultry. Her
eyes fixed on his in that same welcoming stare he’d seen through the peephole.
“Hi, I’m Jane.” They shook hands. “It’s a pleasure. May I come in?” She spoke
with just a touch of an accent. It was slight enough that he couldn’t place it,
and her voice sounded much older than fifteen. There was a maturity to it that
reminded Sammy of himself.

“May I?” he asked, pointing to her handbag.

Jane handed it over as if she’d been expecting the
request. From his coat pocket, he produced a scanner, which he used on every item
in her bag, including the bag itself. Once he was satisfied everything was
clean, he stepped aside and let her pass. She stood several centimeters shorter
than he, but walked with a grace and polish that made him think of ballet
dancers. He watched her eyes as she entered, how they scanned the entire room
at once, noting, thinking, perhaps even planning.

Maybe she’s
always like this. Maybe they train her to be paranoid.

No. There’s
something more. She’s wary … on her guard.

Sammy offered her his arm as he walked her across
the room. Her skin was soft and her grip firm. “Call me Jared,” he told her.

“Jared,” she said. “I like that name.”

“Are you hungry?”

“I am.” Her gaze traveled over the food. “Is all
that for us?”

Sammy laughed. “I hope you brought an appetite.” He
pulled her chair out, waited for her to sit, and then pushed the chair back in
for her. It was placed directly underneath the chandelier where another, more
powerful, scanner had been concealed. After she placed her napkin on her lap,
he served her salad and offered her wine.

“I don’t drink,” she said. He saw a knowing glint in
her eye that told him the choice had nothing to do with her age or morals, and
everything to do with trust and wanting to keep her wits about her.

Sammy set the wine back in the ice. “Neither do I.”

They ate a few bites of salad in silence before
Sammy spoke again, “So … do you prefer to talk—um—make
conversation?”

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