Brenna carefully covered Blair with her O’Neill shield, blocking him from using any of his Gifts. Cindy began dribbling pheromones, and Brenna followed her lead. Using Influence and Empathic Projection, combined with the efforts of the other women around them, Blair soon became so distracted that his companion became upset at what she took to be him ignoring her. One of the O’Donnell Protectors noticed that and entered the woman’s mind to calm her.
Brenna began seeking weaknesses in Blair’s shields. It took her fifteen minutes to work her way through, but she found soft spots on all nine levels. With great care, she enfolded his soul and took control of his mind.
Cindy, Rebecca, Carly, I’m in, she announced. Reaching outside the restaurant, she sent, Jeremy, come into me. I’m through his shields.
Being male, Jeremy was banned from the restaurant. Brenna’s and Cindy’s pheromones would have made him as brainless as Blair. Over the next hour, multiple people sifted through Blair’s thoughts and memories. They came away with a pretty clear picture of operations in the U.S. that were supporting the war in South America.
One of the tidbits they gleaned from the operative’s mind was the answer to a mystery that had been bothering Brenna for months. When she first met Carlos, he told her that CBW knew a redheaded succubus was responsible for the disaster at Spencerville, and they suspected Brenna had been the redhead, operating in disguise. No one outside of O’Donnell should have known that. Even within O’Donnell, Brenna’s sojourn as the redheaded succubus Samantha was under need-to-know security. But after her escape, bruised and battered, she had convalesced at the Baltimore compound for several days before going to West Virginia and dying her hair back to black. The leak had to be someone at the Baltimore house.
Brenna sent a spear to her cousin Jared, who was in charge of security in Baltimore, telling him to gather all the staff. She and Rebecca took a van full of Protectors and headed north. Walking into the sprawling Baltimore house, Rebecca sent a broadcast message informing all personnel to drop their shields.
Scanning the house, Brenna detected someone who still held her shields. Heading to the kitchen, they found a young woman named Tilly, a long-time employee, running toward the back door.
Jared leaped forward and reached for her.
“Jared, no,” Brenna shouted, kicking out and knocking Jared’s arm away. In doing so, her leg brushed Tilly’s arm, and a painful jolt ran through her leg. Brenna screamed and fell to the floor, lashing out with her own Rivera Gift at Tilly’s legs. The woman likewise screamed and fell.
“Drop your shields, Tilly. It’s a general security check,” Rebecca told her.
“I don’t have to do that. I’m not a slave. I have rights,” the slender blonde panted, her face grimacing in pain.
“Ah, lassie, in that you’re mistaken,” Jared responded. “Drop them, Tilly.”
She stubbornly refused. Brenna shattered her shields. Tilly screamed, grabbing her head and flailing about on the floor, convulsing in pain. The construct was evident when they entered her mind. Rebecca collapsed it, captured it, and copied it into her own mind. Tilly was a CBW operative, working inside O’Donnell for the past five years. Her knowledge of her employer’s operations went far beyond that of the operatives captured in Washington. She didn’t belong to the same Clan as they did. Instead, she reported to CBW central intelligence, working for their High Council. One of CBW’s top operatives was a mole inside O’Donnell. They truly had found the keys to the kingdom.
Healers arrived and began immediately to work on the two women’s legs. Having the O’Neill Gift, Brenna had partially deflected the Neural Disruption energy Tilly had directed at her. But Tilly had been in physical contact with her, and the neurons in Brenna’s leg were firing randomly at an incredible rate. Pain, heat, cold, numbness all raced through her, and she was forced to block all input from her leg.
The healers did the same thing to Tilly’s legs, but through her pain, Brenna heard one tell Jared and Rebecca, “It will be a miracle if she ever walks again. The damage is localized but extensive. We had to lay a Comfort on her. We can’t stop the degeneration that’s still ongoing.”
“How is Brenna?” Rebecca asked.
“In a lot of discomfort, but nowhere near as bad. I don’t think there will be any permanent damage. But she won’t be wearing any high heels for a while,” the healer answered.
Brenna locked down Tilly’s mind, or rather Greta von Koppinger’s mind, covering her with a projected O’Neill shield that completely cut off her ability to use her Talents. A spear thread to Seamus brought immediate action. She and Rebecca conducted their captive to the Baltimore airport where an O’Donnell corporate jet awaited them. Two hours later, they were at the manor in West Virginia. Greta and Brenna were unloaded on stretchers.
Tilly’s intelligence expanded what they already knew. Seamus and Rory, the kindly stable master who had been O’Donnell’s security chief for a hundred years before he retired, mobilized their resources. Within a week, over one thousand Protectors had fanned out across the country, assaulting CBW secret teams and facilities.
~~~
CHAPTER 20
I hate war as only a soldier who has lived it can, only as one who has seen its brutality, its futility, its stupidity. - Dwight D. Eisenhower
Brenna sat in a restaurant having lunch with Cindy, worrying and fidgeting. Rebecca was leading an assault on CBW’s main U.S. headquarters in Washington. She and Brenna had been in the facility the previous year when Cindy was kidnapped, and O’Donnell had threatened to shut them down then. Today, Seamus pulled the trigger. The plan was to take all CBW’s personnel into custody, convert its ownership to O’Donnell, and send the message to Europe that if they wanted war, it would be conducted on O’Donnell’s terms.
Brenna didn’t expect they would surrender without a fight. Intelligence reports indicated CBW had strengthened their security force and moved more powerful telepaths to DC in the wake of O’Donnell’s assault the previous year.
“That’s your third drink,” Cindy pointed out. “You have a link with her. You’ll know if anything bad happens.”
“Yeah, I know. That’s what I keep waiting for, a jolt that tells me she’s been hurt. I’d rather be there with her.”
“You’re the heir. You risked yourself once. No one wants to go through that again. She’ll be all right, Brenna. She’s smart and she’s powerful.”
“And she’ll take chances if she thinks someone on her team is in danger. Things happen. It scares me.”
“I’ll tell you what, to take your mind off it, let’s play a game. Have you ever tried to Influence a man to pick up someone else?”
“You mean, direct him to get the major hots for someone other than me? No.” The thought made Brenna smile. “You can do that?” She thought about it. “That could be funny. But I don’t want to humiliate anyone, or be cruel.”
“Of course not. Harmless fun, and maybe put two people together who would have never met. Psychic matchmaking,” Cindy laughed. “Okay, find two people who are alone, lonely, and have some things in common. We don’t want to sic some ogre on a nice woman.”
For the next fifteen minutes as they ate their lunch, Brenna scanned people in the restaurant, trying to imagine each man’s match with the women who were there.
“Take a look at these two,” she showed Cindy the people she had picked as likely candidates. The man was an accountant, a very good catch actually, but painfully shy. The woman was a secretary for a congressman, not a beauty, but she dressed nicely and had a sweet personality. She was also very shy. He was forty and she was thirty-seven. Neither had ever been married, though they weren’t virgins. They just hadn’t ever found the right person.
“Oh, they would be perfect for each other,” Cindy exclaimed. “What a wonderful pairing.”
The two succubi proceeded to try and direct their targets’ attention to each other. The rules of the game, as Cindy explained it, was not to use telepathic compul
sion, but rather to project succubi Influence through the other person. It was a technique that had never occurred to Brenna.
Cindy scored first, the man noticing the secretary and becoming increasingly attracted to her. Brenna had more trouble, having a hard time switching her perspective and figuring out how to make a man attractive. Finally she tried fantasizing about what attracted her to a man and projecting it through him. That brought results, the woman making eye contact with the shy accountant, and then smiling at him. The succubi continued to work on the pair through dessert and coffee.
They were rewarded when the man paid his check and approached the shy secretary. Verbally stumbling a little, he managed to tell her that he found her attractive and asked if she might be available for lunch the next day. Surprised but pleased, she agreed to meet him.
~~~
Rebecca sat in a van a block from CBW’s five-story headquarters in downtown Washington. It was a cold March day and it was cool inside the van, but a trickle of sweat ran down her ribs under the bulletproof vest she wore under her bulletproof jacket. The combat helmet and face shield made her feel a bit claustrophobic. Checking her assault rifle for the hundredth time, making sure the clip was properly seated and safety was on, she looked around at her team.
Jeremy was in overall charge of the operation, with Carly, Edwin from San Francisco, Peter from New York, and herself in charge of the four combat companies. Thirty men and women divided into three teams were her responsibility. Rank hath its privileges, my ass, she thought. She’d follow after Carly’s team cleared the way. First up the stairwell, first on the fifth floor where the opposition’s leadership and strongest telepaths would be waiting for her.
She knew the plan inside and out, not only her section’s responsibilities, but also those of the others. She’d never worked with Edwin or Peter before. Carly was her best friend among the Protectors and would lead the assault.
The year before, when O’Donnell had taken the building looking for Cindy Nelson, CBW had thirty-five Guardians on duty. Since then, intelligence information indicated that the security force had been boosted to two hundred Guardians. Not trusting that, Rebecca had her own people watching the building for the past week. They reported a small but steady number of Guardians entering, often in the middle of the night. Rebecca and Carly speculated that escapees from other O’Donnell operations across the country were making their way to Washington.
Carly walked down the street toward the front door of the building. Dressed in black pants and open jacket showing a blue blouse, she wasn’t armed or wearing a vest or helmet. The smooth execution of the plan depended on Carly.
Approaching one of the two guards standing outside, she engaged him in a conversation. He stepped away from the entrance and pointed down the street. Carly continued to talk, looking away and pointing in a different direction. The first guard turned to the second, and he joined them. She suddenly moved, her actions fast and efficient, and both men reeled, falling to the pavement. A black van pulled up to the curb, hiding the three from the street. A few moments later, Carly sent a spear thread to Jeremy and the other section leaders, The door is breached, we’re in.
Rebecca tapped the driver of her van on the shoulder, and it lurched into motion, driving down the street and pulling in behind the three vans of Carly’s section. As Rebecca jumped out, she saw one of Carly’s men rush up the steps and hand a helmet and weapon to his leader who was holding the door.
Standing next to Carly as she waved her own troops inside, Rebecca turned to her friend and zipped up her jacket. “You have a vest on under that blouse, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I’ve got it on,” Carly answered.
“Be safe,” Rebecca said. “I’ll kick your ass if you get hurt.” She wheeled low through the door and headed for the stairwell.
Creeping up the stairs, she left two of her soldiers at the doors on each floor to secure them. Carly’s troops should have opened the back door and the loading dock by now. Edwin’s teams should be heading up the rear stairwell followed by Peter’s. Carly’s teams would secure the main floor and basement, Edwin’s the second floor and rear exits, and Peter’s the third and fourth floors.
As Rebecca reached the fifth floor, she heard gunfire from the floor below her. She burst through the door, projecting an air shield into the hall in front of her. A CBW Guardian standing there fired a burst from his assault rifle. She sent a stream of neural disruption. He jerked and fell twitching to the floor, his rifle discharging wildly into the wall and floor. Rushing past him, she left two of her troops to guard the elevators, then sent one team down the hall to her left. As the next team emerged, she sent them right.
With the third team, she forcefully projected the air shield into the glass doors in front of her. The doors shattered inward and she led her force into the executive offices. Her team’s orders were to fire their weapons as a last resort. Most telepaths could be disabled using straight mental force, a mind fist. That was also the only weapon most telepaths could use. It wouldn’t cause permanent damage, but would disable them, causing a painful headache for a day or two.
The receptionist went down, then a man stepped out of his office. Rebecca downed him with a mental blast, delivered with the power of her Dominance Gift. Spreading out, her force captured everyone they encountered. The two flanking teams came into the executive suite through doors at the end of the halls, squeezing the opposition between her three teams.
When Rebecca had been here a little over a year before, the top executives had been in offices behind the reception desk. Signaling her team, she headed through the short hall into that area. Her air shield would stop any physical weapons or Gifts with physical manifestations, such as Pyro or Electrokinesis. It wouldn’t stop Neural Disruption. Sweat washed over her body and dripped into her eyes. She was tempted to bathe the entire suite of offices with such neural energy to ensure her safety and that of her team.
Donny Doyle, her second in command and Collin’s cousin, came up behind her. “We’ve secured the rest of the floor, Rebecca.”
She nodded.
“You don’t have to lead point,” Donny said. “I’ll take it.” He started to edge past her.
“No,” she stopped him. “I’d rather be dead than live with the guilt if you get killed.” Taking a deep breath, she wheeled around the corner, pushing the air shield in front of her.
A man stood in the doorway of an office pointing a pistol at her. He squeezed off three shots, then three more. She slammed into his mind, hammering at his shields and he fell back into the office. Her Protectors fanned out and she headed for the office of CBW’s top official in the U.S.
Stepping through the shattered door, she smiled at the man behind the desk and raised her face shield.
He shook his head and calmly said, “You again. Miss O’Donnell, you have the rudest way of making an appointment.”
“Herr Mueller, your organization has a knack for pissing off my grandfather. Believe me, there are a lot of places I’d prefer to be right now. Will you please drop your shields, or do we have to be savage about this?”
The previous year, Brenna had shattered his shields with her Domination Gift. On that occasion, they had led everyone to believe Rebecca was Brenna while Brenna stayed in the background, incognito.
“What are you going to do with me?” he asked.
“That’s not up to me. At the very least, you’ll be shipped out of the country and told never to return. If you’re complicit in the arms buildup in South America, then I don’t know.”
“No, my Clan isn’t involved in that.”
He dropped his shields and Rebecca cautiously entered his mind and took control. She ordered him to key his intercom and order a ceasefire and surrender.
~~~
Facility secured. All personnel in custody. Casualties, two of ours physically wounded, three with psychic wounds. Five hostiles dead, seven wounded, three physically. Request healers prepare for incoming casualties. R
ebecca’s broadcast cut through Brenna’s mind like an electric shock.
Are you ok? Brenna frantically sent.
I’m fine. We need you at the compound, was the reply.
“Come on, we need to go.” Brenna grabbed her purse, threw a hundred dollar bill on the table and limped for the door. Cindy rushed after her.
The scene at the compound was a bit chaotic. Casualties were being brought in the back door and Dorothy was directing triage. Her brother Mark and Moira were there also.
“Change clothes,” Dorothy told Brenna. “We have gunshot wounds and a head trauma. Mark is setting up a surgery, but this isn’t Washington General. I think we’re going to need you on the head.” She shoved a set of hospital scrubs into Brenna’s hands.
The Protector had been clubbed with some sort of heavy object. His assailant had knocked off his helmet and the blow caught him just above and behind the ear. Having the Healing Gift and her PhD in neuroscience, Brenna had assisted the doctors with head injuries before. Entering his brain, she found fractured bone compressing the right temporal lobe and pooling blood. With a horrified sense of déjà vu, she set to work.
Five hours later, exhausted and sick to her stomach, she stumbled out of the surgery. For all her efforts and the healer/doctor operating on him, her patient had died. The damage was too great. Perhaps a skilled neurosurgeon might have made a difference, but they didn’t have one available, and they couldn’t call in an outsider. Mark told her that even if they had initially transported him to a hospital, his chances would have been slim. But that didn’t make Brenna feel any better.
Rebecca sat outside the surgery and looked up at her hopefully. The expression on Brenna’s face gave her the news and a tear leaked down her cheek as she understood she had lost one of her team.
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