The Lost Soldier

by Jen Talty

And not just because he loved Savanah.

  But because he knew deep down his destiny was to be reunited with his brothers. He shook his head. What an odd thought to have about people he had never met and really, it was a wild story.

  However, that story was his reality.

  “How are you feeling?” she asked.

  “I’ve been worse,” he admitted.

  “I don’t like the sound of that. We know the location. Go back to your body and catch up to us here.”

  “No,” he said sternly. “Once you make camp, enter the view. Then I’ll go back to my body. We can’t lose Hunter and Homer now.”

  “I’ll let you know right before I run to my waterfall.”

  “Talk soon.” He stood, stretching, which made him chuckle because his body sat in a hard metal chair back at the cabin. Alone. The longer he stayed disconnected, the harder it would be to snap back. He waved his hand in front of his face. His hologram was still strong, but he could tell it faded.

  Just another fifteen minutes, he told himself. Then he could rejuvenate himself and work on the same plane as the action would be.

  He walked the perimeter of the house, inching closer to the back. A few groans and screams echoed in the night.

  He cringed.

  They needed to get inside and get his men before they died.

  He tried to project his thoughts to Hunter, but it felt like they literally bounced off a wall.

  “Willow?”

  Nothing.

  Hazel hadn’t seemed to develop telepathy, but maybe his other brother had.

  “Brett? Can you hear me?”

  “Barely. What’s going on?” Brett’s voice tickled his brain.

  “Waiting for Scottie’s team to set up and Savanah to come back into the view.”

  “Why didn’t you let her stay and you go with the team?”

  “I didn’t want her alone in the cabin, for one. But also, she wasn’t looking good. She crossed bodies with Hunter, and it affected her negatively.”

  “Yeah, touching organic material in a view can be painful, and it depletes your energy. But man, you can’t stay much longer without losing your ability to get back.”

  “She should be here any minute.” Chad moved from the back of the house to the road. Scottie and his team were setting up camp only three miles south, dangerously close, but necessary. “Then we’ll switch places. It’s only a fifty-minute drive, and Scottie will brief me while we make the trip.”

  The plan thus far had been to ambush two hours after dusk, before the first changing of the guards. Scottie had managed to pull in an Army A-Team that had been stationed just a few miles away waiting orders for another mission that had been nixed just an hour ago. They had twelve men, not including Scottie, and Chad and Savanah would pull out of the view the second the action started.

  “Did she tell you that you, me, and Hunter all have the same birthdate?”

  “Yeah. It will be interesting to backtrack our birth certificates.”

  “My adoption was closed, but you and I were born at the same hospital.”

  “If we believe all this shit, which it seems we do, it’s a safe bet, so was Hunter. Speaking of which, how is Alexis?” Chad had no idea who screamed out in pain from the house, but he suspected it was either Hunter or Homer. He contemplated entering the house, but what could he do to stop them? All it would do was remind him how utterly helpless he was at this particular moment. Being able to remote view had its advantages.

  But it also had some major drawbacks.

  “The pain comes in waves. She can’t pinpoint the source. The last time someone remote healed with her, it was me. I was nearly dead. Had it not been for her, I wouldn’t be here.”

  “I don’t know what to make of this barrier around Hunter, other than we’re surrounded by psychics. They have people looking for viewers, but so far I’ve been able to block them.”

  “Stay out there much longer, and you won’t,” Brett said. “I’m in country, and enroute to Scottie, so call on me if you need me.”

  “Will do.”

  The waiting had always been the worst part of any mission, and ninety-five percent of his job had always been waiting.

  And half of that time, they waited for nothing. Many missions were never executed, for whatever reason.

  This was an op that not only had to be completed, but it had to go off without a hitch.

  Shouts from the Koreans stole his attention. Men with automatic weapons ran yelling across the yard.

  Chad took off toward the road. His heart racing. When he came to the end of the dirt road that led to the house, he came to a screeching halt.

  “Savanah,” he projected, staring at her with her hands over her head, and a Korean operative pointing a semi-automatic weapon at her chest.

  “What happened?”

  Nothing. Total silence from Savanah.

  Scottie walked next to her, his gaze darting around as if he were looking for Chad.

  “Brett? Are you still there?”

  “Yeah. What’s up?”

  “They have Savanah and Scottie.”

  “Get out of the view and get to the basecamp where Scottie’s men are. I’ll jump and keep an eye on things.”

  Chad walked right up to Savanah, waving his hand out across her body. His fingers burned and immediately he felt as though he would vomit. His energy depleted, and he dropped to his knees.

  He glanced up and one of the North Koreans peered into his view, staring down at him. “You’re all going to die.”

  Chapter 9

  A CRUSHING PAIN in Savanah’s chest squeezed her lungs, closing them off to any attempt at a deep breath. Her heart pounded erratically as the man who called himself Eun Jung shoved her through the front door of a farm house.

  Scottie lunged at Jung, but the guards forcefully yanked him back.

  “Stupid,” Jung yelled, ramming the butt of his gun into the back of Scottie’s head. He dropped to his knees, blood trickling down the back of his neck. When they’d been ambushed two miles down the road, Scottie had done everything possible to protect her from harm, taking a beating that left him bloody and bruised.

  Savanah had tried to call out to Chad, but someone with shockingly strong, and well-developed psychic abilities had managed to block her.

  “Where is the rest of your team?” Jung bent over Scottie, the muzzle of his weapon pressed against his temple.

  Scottie narrowed his eyes, disgust seeping from his gaze.

  “Silence will just get the girl killed.” Jung waved to one of the men on the other side of the room who stomped over to where Savanah stood.

  He yanked her by the hair, shoving the nose of the rifle under her chin.

  She gasped. A sharp pain radiated through her head.

  Scottie let out a short breath through his nose like a bull. “Three hundred yards past the junction and access road,” he said behind gritted teeth.

  “How many?” Jung asked.

  She continued to try to punch through the psychic block. All she needed to do was either contact someone or remote view somewhere near Chad. He’d see her, or at the very least sense her, but each time it felt like someone reached inside her throat and ripped out her lungs in one swift motion.

  “Twelve men,” Scottie said.

  “When will they attack?” Jung demanded.

  “One hour.”

  Savanah swallowed. Scottie had lied about the time of the ambush.

  “What is their goal? The Americans?”

  Scottie nodded.

  “Get him out of here,” Jung yelled, waving his hand.

  “What about her?” Scottie asked, twisting and turning his body, trying to break free of his restraints. “What are you doing with her?”

  “None of you concern,” Jung said.

  “She’s a civilian. My government isn’t going to cover her up. You’re fucked if you touch her.”

  Jung laughed. “Ah, but you know I have no problem killing her, or
you wouldn’t have given up the information so quickly.” He leaned in, sneering. “If you’re lying, neither of your deaths will be quick and easy.”

  A couple of his men picked Scottie up from the ground and dragged him across the foyer and into another room. From somewhere upstairs, she heard a muffled scream. The lights flickered.

  Her muscles trembled, and tears stung in her eyes.

  Jung grabbed her arm and hauled off in the other direction. They passed a staircase and another gut-wrenching wail smacked her ears. A few seconds later, Scottie cried out.

  “We’re going to find whoever is blocking your powers.” Jung shoved her to a sofa in the middle of a what appeared to be a family room. Old hardwood floors were partially covered with a white, shag rug. Animal antlers lined the walls.

  “I don’t understand?” She blinked a few times, taking mental notes of everything in the room, including the only exit and the three windows on the far wall. The room itself wasn’t much to talk about with its brown sofa, matching chairs, and bland accent colors. A couple of the wall decorations could be used as weapons, if she could rip them down.

  “Don’t play dumb with me,” Jung said, sitting in a wingback chair, lighting a pipe. “Someone is protecting your talents. Hiding them from me. When I find out who it is, I’m going to kill them.”

  “What are you talking about?” She concentrated on trying to punch through the barrier, realizing that the force of the shield wasn’t projecting from the outside, blocking her from using her skills, but coating her body, keeping anyone from penetrating her senses and exposing her gifts and tapping into them. This wasn’t about blocking her, but about unlocking her.

  But why?

  And was it even possible?

  “Preventing me from using my psychic ability only keeps me in harm’s way, so it has to be you or one of your men.”

  Jung shook his head. “I want you to use your gifts. You’re special,” Jung said. “I knew that the second I sensed you coming down that road.”

  At least he didn’t know she’d been in the compound. Or hoped he hadn’t sensed her there.

  “So special, I had to risk having you, but the second I snatched you up, someone clamped down on your powers so quickly and precisely that even you don’t know what is going on. But whoever it is, I’m going to find him and kill him.”

  Another muffled scream from upstairs.

  She cringed.

  “And about whoever that is? Are they special?”

  “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about them.”

  “But they are why I’m here,” she said. If someone was protecting her gifts, she needed to find out who, and why, because it didn’t make sense. Keeping her from calling for help only crippled any chance of getting out alive.

  Unless there was a double agent doing this to her protecting her until he could help her make her escape.

  “You’re not military,” Jung said.

  “No. I’m not. But I was hired by them.”

  He smiled. “Because of your precious gifts.”

  “I was brought in to help find the two men you have upstairs.”

  “You’re only half good at your job.” Jung let out a hearty laugh, his large belly bouncing. “You found them, but you won’t be able to save them.”

  She leaned back, crossing her legs, trying to act as though she wasn’t utterly terrified. “Why are you torturing them? Not a good way to extract information.”

  “Who says I’m extracting information?”

  “Why else would you torture someone?” If she kept him talking, she might be able to communicate with whoever was holding her abilities back, or hiding them, or whatever. She really needed to reach Chad. She knew without a doubt he’d be able to get her out of this mess.

  And save his men and Scottie.

  “There is a plethora of reasons. None of which I’m feeling like I want to discuss.” He took a long drag off his pipe, sending the smoke toward the ceiling. “I’ve worked for years to develop my gifts, but they halted in their growth many years ago. But you.” He shook his head. “You seem to be cultivating abilities left and right.”

  “I have only two psychic abilities. One is remote viewing and the other is telepathy. I can’t communicate with everyone. Just my sister and boyfriend.” She left out that she had three sisters, and she’d been able to communicate with Brett on occasion. “I think you’re the one who is blocking me.”

  Jung shook his head. “Tsk. Tsk. Blocking you would prevent me from harnessing your gifts, using them to achieve my goals.”

  “How do you harness my gifts, other than forcing me to use them?” This she really needed to hear.

  “Every time a true psychic uses their gifts, they emote an energy like an aura. Someone who can see and interpret those auras can help others recreate them, giving them new powers. We’re also developing techniques to synthetically create the auras, so all a person would have to do is drink a cocktail and next thing you know, they can read minds.”

  “That’s impossible.”

  “Nothing is impossible,” Jung said.

  She arched a brow. “Is that what you’re doing with the men upstairs?”

  “You’re persistent. I like that.”

  One of the guards walked into the room. “Sir, I need to speak with you for a moment.”

  “Excuse me,” Jung said as he breezed by; his musky cologne closed her throat, cutting off her ability to take a decent breath.

  “Okay, whoever is messing with my abilities, make yourself known.”

  She tapped her toe impatiently against the carpet.

  “Blocking me only prevents me from helping the men being tortured.” She knew Jung could be lying, since the entire idea of harnessing power was absurd, but she had to try to plead her case. If this person was American, or on her side, she needed to make them understand they were only making matters worse.

  “I will make myself known when Chad gets here, and things are safe,” an unfamiliar male voice rang out. “Until then, I’m locking your powers. You’ll know when it’s safe to use them.”

  A warm tingle spread across her body like a fleece blanket on a cool night. “Who are you? How do you know about Chad?”

  Suddenly, a chill crept into her bones.

  “Wait. Don’t go,” she pleaded, but she knew whoever had spoken to her was gone.

  ***

  Chad slammed the Jeep into park, jumping from the vehicle, barely snagging the keys as he bolted across the unpaved, makeshift road. If Brett hadn’t devised a game plan by now, Chad was going on both barrels loaded.

  A dozen men, plus Brett, stood around a table under a tarp. The sun had peeking through the thick jungle trees as the sun began its decent, giving way to the night sky.

  “Welcome to the party,” Brett said, extending a hand.

  “What’s the plan?” He took a spot next to Brett at the head of the table.

  “The house is protected from other psychics using their power. Not sure how or by who, but none of these men can penetrate it.”

  “I can,” Chad said, studying the layout of the house. He’d only seen it from the outside.

  “So can I.” Brett cocked his head. “Which makes me wonder if whoever is doing this is trying to draw us in.”

  “Yeah, but why?” Chad scratched the back of his head.

  “That’s the million-dollar question, and I’ve got plan to get the answer,” Brett said.

  “What’s that?” All Chad wanted to do was beat down the door and get Savanah. He should have never let her go. Staying in the view would have prevented her from being captured. She would have been safer alone in the cabin.

  “I’m going to remote view. If I can remove an object from a different plane, I can bring one in.”

  “Have you ever done that, sir?” one of the men asked.

  “Brought one in? No. But I know I can.”

  “That’s dangerous, sir,” another man chimed in.

  “So is ambushing
a North Korean hostile camp in hostile territory, on an unsanctioned mission,” Brett said, pressing his hands on the table. “None of you men have to do this. You are free to go.”

  “We’ve got nowhere else to be right now,” one man said.

  “Scottie’s in there,” another man said.

  “So, what do you want to bring in?” Chad asked.

  “For starters, we bring Scottie a handgun.” Brett tapped the drawing of the house. “He’s being held in the dining room. Tied to a table. Beaten up pretty bad, but still very alert.”

  “You viewed the house? Savanah?” Chad asked, staring at Brett. The idea that he was Chad’s brother slammed into his heart, exploding his pulse into a wild frenzy. Brett had the same eyes. The shape of their nose was identical. They way in which Brett leaned over the table, identical to Chad. The similarities too much to ignore.

  “She’s unharmed.”

  “How long ago?”

  “Snapped back about five minutes before you arrived.” Brett placed a comforting hand on Chad’s shoulder, giving it a slight squeeze.

  “So, a gun, and maybe a knife, too, for Scottie,” Chad said.

  “And instructions for Savanah once the raid starts.”

  “Just exactly how do you plan on getting these items in the hands of Scottie and Savanah without being detected?”

  “Remember when I took your knife off the desk?”

  “Yeah. It disappeared, sort of. I mean I still saw it, only more as a hologram than an object.” It was hard to believe that happened less than a week ago. Chad’s life had changed drastically in that moment. He could no longer deny who and what he was. Then Savanah came waltzing back into his life, making him want all those things he’d done his best to bury.

  “The same has to old true for the opposite,” Brett said.

  “But the object will come in plain view once you leave it, and in order to hide it on the person you’re giving it to, you’ll have to cross organic material.”

  “I know, which will probably make me useless for a bit when I snap back, but I can stay in the view and guide you until we have our men and Savanah out of there.”

  “I’m in,” Chad said, taking a deep calming breath, doing his best to restore his heartbeat to something remotely normal. He needed to keep his head in the game and focus on the mission.