The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Roulette wheels spinning. Where the ball keeps jumping around until it settles in one of many possible slots. Waves at the beach seem to be predictable only to have them roll in ways I didn’t expect. Reading about history initially gave me the sense humanity followed patterns, but in the immediate here and now I could hardly predict more than a little further than most people.

I felt like the subject matter for a statistics class. Sure, we can map the information we have but there will be outliers on the scale, the unpredictable.

Fate? I never really believed in fate. I believe still that I make my own destiny. I liked the idea of making other people’s destinies.

I had been gifted mysteriously for no reason I could guess. Was that fate? It sure wasn’t the result of my own free will, though I seized on it for my own benefit. Does anyone have free will really? Was I trapped by the sequence of prior events to react the way I do simply because of all that went before?

If it was in fact fate, what point is there in thinking about it at all? I wanted at least the illusion of making my own destiny. I can provide myself that illusion. Or reality.

The abyss cried out its own vision of my reality.

Looking at the clock he saw it was almost midnight. Why would the detective or special agent be knocking on his door at this hour. Ben reached out and only found one mind outside the door, Detective Shaw.

“I thought you were being investigated for the shooting,” he said to the detective as he let him in.

The detective looked around the room without saying anything. He found the one chair by the windows and settled into it.

“Yes indeed.” Shaw smiled. “But my partner doesn’t trust the uniforms we could call on to baby sit you. It seems the people who kidnapped your girl came from the local precinct. I don’t think he really trusts the guy from the feds either.”

“If I said that doesn’t surprise me, would you be upset with me for impugning the police department?”

“Oh hell no,” replied Shaw. “I’ve seen enough bad eggs in my time. I disliked the stain they leave on the rest of us though.”

Ben sat on the edge of the bed where he’d be close to the detective to talk.

“You know, I do think you know something you haven’t told Cain,” the detective folded his fingers into a tent in front of him. “You really shouldn’t be hiding stuff from us. We only want to help you, really.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Oh, gee. Let’s see. Whoever it is tried to kidnap you in a public place first. They put a grab on your girlfriend the same night. And they don’t ask for ransom, just for you to show up. Sounds like they are going to try grabbing you again. It sure seems apparent you’re somehow very important to them.”

“My guess is whoever they are, they’re no longer looking to grab me.” Ben sat still, more grim perhaps than Shaw expected.

“What makes you say that?”

“The woman you shot. I’m guessing she was important to the guys out to grab me. I’m sure they’ll be looking to get even, thinking I had something to do with it.”

“Yeah, about that. I still can’t come up with any ways she’d have gotten you out of the restaurant after she tranq’d you. That made no sense. There were too many people around you. This way you end up walking right to them. All the effort they made to grab you and a hostage, why would they want anything different now?”

“um. Yeah.” He was drawing a blank. He’d run out of ideas. “Maybe they do still want to grab me. I suppose. It’s not as if they’re telling me.”

On his own, Ben thought. It’s entirely a matter of being totally on his own. He thought about what the plans of the tall Eastern European guy would be if they just wanted him dead now. He pinched the bridge of his nose and looked down.

One floor above Ben’s room was another almost identical to it. On the bed was a hooded coat and the occupant of the room was tweaking knobs and buttons on a box the size of a toaster. On his head he had a set of sound canceling headphones.

It had taken time to set up but he could hear every tiny sound in the room below. He’d heard enough to know about the appointment at Grand Central. He just didn’t know what precautions Ben might have in mind. Someone might just walk up to him at the information booth and shoot him on the spot. That certainly fell in the realm of possible and not where he wanted any gun play to happen.

Shaking his head, he turned up the sound level just a bit.

Her parent’s house was just as she remembered it. A white colonial with a large fir tree out front. If anything, the tree had taken over more of the ground foliage. She could make out the red shutters through the branches though. The six steps up to the front door looked worn from use, but sturdy as ever.

Celia strolled up to the door and just tried it first. Locked, of course. So she put down the small duffel she used as a day bag then fumbled her keys out of her purse. Unlocking the door brought on barking, her parent’s two schnauzers yapping up a storm. Once she’d opened the door and stepped inside they quieted right down.

Shadow was trying to jump up her leg for attention, the gray furball trying to lick her hands where she could reach. Bandit was sniffing around her feet, the beard like appearance of his snout so very serious looking to her.

“Hi there you two. Miss me?” She partially knelt down, being nuzzled immediately and her face licked where it could be reached. “No, no. I don’t have any treats.” Bandit was trying to stick his nose in the pocket of her jacket.

“What brings you home?,” her mother asked. She was drying her hands on a red and white striped apron as she peeked out through the dining room at Celia. “Your father will certainly be surprised.”

“I needed to think a bit away from the city.” A few steps took her to her mother and a familial hug. “Also, I’m far enough ahead in my classes that this week seemed a good time to visit.”

“Your room is as you left it. Even the dirty laundry. You might want to take care of that this time around. So what’s the big think about?”

“Nothing terribly important.”

“If you don’t want to say I won’t pry. You know your father though. Your younger sister will want to snoop too. She’s got that Senior in high school mindset about gossip and poking her nose into other peoples’ affairs right now.”

Celia laughed. Yes, Judith was like that even when she had been younger. Celia had almost needed to put a deadbolt on the door to have any privacy. She thought her sister might know more about her romantic liaisons than she did at this point.

“Wait. You’re not pregnant or stuck with an STD are you?,” her mother tilted her chin down with a hard concerned look in her eyes.

She laughed again. “No mom. Nothing like that. I haven’t been dating since… well, a while now anyway.”

“Okay, so long as it’s not something like that, I guess.”

“I’m going to get my things put away and take a quick shower if you don’t mind. The train ride and the cab were a bit uncomfortable.” She picked up her bag. “Shadow, if you don’t want me to trip over you, you will have to move.

Scolding dogs simply did not have the effect she wanted. They did scurry away as she made her way upstairs to her old room though.

Detective Cain sat with Ben early in the morning. Shaw left when he showed up. Together they all went to the nearest bagel shop, gotten bagels and coffee, then brought them back to the hotel room. It was a little odd to Ben walking past a slightly effete clerk to the elevators though.

“You know, we could just invite him up to join us. I’m sure he thinks we’re a couple at this point.”

“Not a chance,” reproved Cain, “He’s probably straight as you or I. Affectations don’t mean anything.”

The unexpected censure caught him off guard. Ben shut up. Going to this meet was going to be tough already. He didn’t need to alienate anyone. Even for a mildly politically incorrect light hearted comment.

He was shaken already. Just thinking about what other telepaths wanted put him on edge. If they just wanted to try to recruit him why hadn’t they just approached him up front? Unless maybe they thought they were strong enough to… it occurred to him suddenly they might want to adjust him to work for them. If they had someone strong enough to overwhelm him that is. That would fit the attempt to kidnap him.

His hand was trembling as he used the card key to open the door.

“Don’t let yourself become too scared, Ben,” the older man said.

“They’re after me. Why shouldn’t I be scared.”

“There really has to be a reason. The FBI has their van downstairs with the listening gear. All you have to do is show up. We’ll swoop in and grab these guys.”

“Yeah, right. I am interested in Ginny’s safety. She’s been gone since Saturday. Three days without any proof she’s alive even. So far anyway.” The thought he had of enlisting by-standers mentally would freak the FBI agent and the detective out. Though, he could adjust their memories afterwards, he supposed. One person with an unseen gun and it could end in a hurry. He wasn’t getting any closer to any ideas to get Ginny out of this.

“I wish you knew what they wanted you for. It might make this a great deal easier to prepare for.”

Ben agonized at that point. How do you explain to someone who isn’t telepathic that you’re telepathic and can use it to control someone else? Especially someone with a gun you didn’t want to actually exert control over?

He sat down in the chair and turned his head to look out the window. Tilting his head he looked back at the detective. None of this was going to go well. Something was bound to go wrong. The telepathy thing really had isolated him from anyone he chose to control. Talking about it, would that change the sense of isolation and give him an outside viewpoint? Perhaps talking about it might help his sense of being so trapped.

Cain stood near the door, his beard giving him a bit more of the appearance of age. The streaks of gray in the beard didn’t help. If anything, everything else about Cain made him look disheveled. The suit he wore looked slept in, the tie like it hadn’t been removed for a week or just slipped over his head for appearances. Could this man be trusted with his secret, Ben asked himself.

He struggled. Wrestling with his own inner demons was not something he’d been prepared to do. He already had decided he would put his life out there to save Ginny though. If he was willing to risk his life to save her, it wasn’t any different taking risks to get an ally or, allies. His fears versus his responsibility to Ginny after having so drastically changing her life. Yes, she’d been submissive before he had controlled her. It was still true she hadn’t done so of her own will originally. He could not let her be endangered by his actions without trying to save her. Even if it meant he failed and perished as a result.

That outcome scared him and had him shaking. He looked at the floor. There were no other allies he could think of that would be better than the detective. Unless the detective himself were telepathic. Which of course would make it easier and better, but if the detective were telepathic, Ben would know by now, he was certain.

He looked up at Cain, meeting his gaze directly.

“Okay, let’s say…,” he started. Cain tilted his head and listened. He did nothing else.

“Let’s say,” Ben continued, “I think I know what this is about. It’s very difficult to explain to you though.”

“Try me. I’m a good listener if nothing else.”

“Do you know what telepathy is?”

“You mean the amazing Kreskin kind of thing? I have seen his act. It’s all done with signals from a shill in the audience.”

Ben smiled, pretty certain Cain was in for a little shift in his world view. He didn’t really want to talk about this but there had to be someone to trust.

“Yeah, he’s a stage act. No, I mean real telepathy. Genuine mind reading. Actual mind to mind ability.”

“I know what it’s supposed to be. Ain’t no such thing though.”

“First of all, the kidnappers believe it is, even if you don’t.”

“Granting that they believe it’s real, how does that play into wanting to kidnap you?”

“I’m telepathic.”

Cain let out a serious guffaw. For a few minutes he just couldn’t stop laughing. He finally sat on the bed and caught his breath with some little difficulty after one of the heartiest laughs he’d had in a while.

“That’s ridiculous. No one is telepathic. That’s all World News, and News Globe tabloid shit. Maybe I should get the padded truck to come pick you up. How exactly do you believe someone can be convinced you’re telepathic?”

Ben smiled, knowing the truth.

“Pick a number.”

“oh that trick. From one to a hundred I suppose?”

“No. Any number, real, negative, integer, irrational, any number at all.”

“okay, I’m thinking of a number.”

“Eight, no, now you’re thinking of pi, no, now you’re thinking ninety-eight point six.”

Cain looked at him. “Okay, how about...”

“You live on 118th street between Amsterdam and Broadway, number 1532, apartment 2114.”

Cain’s jaw dropped. “You could have found that on the web somehow. Maybe.”

“You have two bottles of Jack Daniels, a partial bottle of tequila, a red ceramic cookie jar shaped like a teapot, and at the moment there are two pots, three plates, and a pile of silverware in your sink waiting to be washed.”

“Enough!”

“and a potato peel…,” trailed off.

The detective settled and rubbed his beard.

“Just. Keep your mouth shut a minute.”

He got up and paced to the door and back to the bed a few times.

“Accepting it’s real. Because I damn well can’t figure out how you’d know about the pile in the sink, but accepting it’s real telepathy… I can imagine reasons any of a number of people would, hey. Is that how you were able to parlay your bank account into such a treasure trove?”

“uh, yeah.” Ben tried not to turn red. “I didn’t actually meet anyone but I went to some of the after hours places in the finance district where brokers and investment guys hang out. It’s. It’s like eavesdropping on conversations and hearing slips of insider information. I tried to keep the individual trades small, but it did add up quickly.”

“Shit.” Cain just stared at him. “Just, holy shit. That’s more convincing than the parlor tricks.”

“First time I’ve heard you cuss detective.”

“Oh, believe me, I do enough cussin’.”

Ben looked down, “there’s more to it.”

“Reading minds isn’t enough? Do you have, what do they call it,” he paused, “telescop..., no, that’s not it, telekinesis, that thing where objects can be moved by the mind?”

Ben looked up sharply. “No. I never thought to try that. Interesting thought but I don’t think even if I can that I’d learn to use it well enough to be helpful today.”

“What then?”

“Er… please try not to overreact.”

“Overreact? How can I overreact to knowing I can’t have private thoughts, much less anything else!?”

“I get that, I do. I’ve been trying to keep it from anyone at all, or use it much. For exactly the reason you are thinking. That people would feel their privacy is totally gone. That the government would want me to do cloak and dagger for them. That someone who just hates the idea of telepaths would just kill me.”

“Right. What exactly is this more you were going to tell me about?”

Ben wanted to pace but didn’t think it was a good idea. Dropping bombs on the detective already made this difficult.

“I can control people too.”

“Control people?”

“Yes, like… for instance, I could make the clerk downstairs check me in under a different name than my own and believe he’d seen ID proving my identity.”

“Did you?”

“Hell no. It leaves a mental footprint another telepath may be able to pick up. I can tell when someone has been manipulated that way. I figure they might be able to as well.”

Cain had had his jaw dropping moment. He wasn’t going to do it again. The implications were staggering.

“So the two officers who kidnapped your girlfriend, they could have been controlled by you or any other similar telepath?”

“I’m betting they were.”

“You’re saying the people who are after you are telepaths too.”

“I believe they are. I’ve been followed a while. I found someone had modified Janet, the woman I was on a date with Saturday night. I was trying to catch one of them that night. It didn’t go so well.”

“If you can do this shit,” the word dropped again, “why aren’t you just doing it to me now?”

“That’s hard to explain,” Ben responded.

“I doubt at this point I could be more interested in what the hell is going on than you’ve already gotten me.”

“It’s a matter of what I have already done. Ginny for instance. My girlfriend…” Cain interrupted him there.

“GOD DAMMIT! you’ve been raping women with this thing, haven’t you?”

Ben closed his eyes and planted the heels of his palms in them. He let out a deep sigh. He had to look inward on that comment deeply. His own dark places where his anger had lain were not fully sated, but he knew it was a curse he could no longer afford to appease.

He felt his chest clench at the thought of how he was literally violating people. Power corrupts, he thought, am I that deeply corrupted? Probably, but he also had been in the process of doing without the talent to interact with Celia. He liked the power. Consent had become very important to him recently though. The scales tipped both ways in his mind.

“Answer me you son of a bitch!”

“Since I’m trying to be a hundred percent truthful, yes, I have raped a number of women by altering their mental interest and their libido to be highly attracted to me. I had my reasons. I admit it was not ethical behavior and wrong. I’ve already made myself stop. While more than a little tempting, I’ve been pretty restrained for a while now.”

“DAMMIT. DAMMIT. DAMMIT.” Cain crossed the small room in a heartbeat grabbing Ben’s collar “You’re a monster.”

“I suppose I am,” Ben tried to remain calm yet was shaking. “Have been. Mighht still be one. That doesn’t help Ginny, nor does it stop other telepaths who are probably doing something worse.”

“I can’t know that. For all I know they’re trying to rein you in! You little fucker, you’ve been violating people left and right. I should arrest you right now!”

Ben felt a bit cowed by the detective. He also was determined not to mess up by doing anything to lose probably his best ally in the coming hours. With effort he tried to pull himself together. He looked down at Cain’s fist holding his shirt. Cain reluctantly, still fiercely angry, released the collar.

“You could do that. It wouldn’t fix anything. Plus it would leave Ginny in danger. The other problem with that idea is pretty obvious.”

“Obvious? What’s so bloody obvious?”

“You’d never be able to hold me. There’s only two options with someone with my kind of telepathic mental power. Either you kill them or you sedate them. I’m not sure if the talent can be turned off even. In a court I’d easily be able to sway the jury, the judge, even the prosecutor. Even you, if you decided the only path open was to arrest me, you know now I could fix that too.”

Cain was stepped back a bit, realizing it was true. No one could ever arrest him and hold him for more than a few minutes. Amazing, he thought, how he went from believing telepathy was possible to the terror of thinking his will was not his own.

“Cheer up though detective,” Ben smiled. “There’s at least one non-telepath I can’t control. Celia, the woman who lives two floors down from me. There are probably others.”

“And your girlfriends? Ginny and what’s this other one from Saturday? Janet?” The glare remained.

“You want a detailed history?”

“Maybe. You’re telling me you took control of them without consent.”

“Ginny was the very first one. At first it was a very unintentional act. I had her do something sensual in front of me. Then stopped and I asked her phone number without controlling her. She went on a date with me, I pushed her interest then. I got entangled in a lot of different ways with her that night. I thought to try to undo things. I didn’t though, didn’t know how and still don’t know how for her. There’s too much of what she is inside my head and what I am inside hers. I take full responsibility for her and her future. It actually brought out something she had in her all along. So I became the focus of her kinky side. An acute focus. But yes, the first night I did not consider her specific consent at all. I agree. That’s all on me. That’s water under the bridge though. Even trying to undo it could harm her far more than what’s been done already.”

Cain was not the least bit mollified. His fingers twitched, wanting to beat the hell out of Ben. Fuck it, he thought. Clenching his fist he buried it in Ben’s solar plexus. It sank in deep, crushingly so.

“errkk,” Ben doubled over and gasped for air. He fell forward off the chair onto his hands and knees. His lungs burned for air. Angry now he wanted to hurt Cain back. It was difficult to hold back. He did though, not seizing control of Cain, but listening for another random fist so he could try to roll with the punches a bit.

Another punch wasn’t coming though. Cain had relieved his immediate desire to punish Ben. He was angry, yet knew this didn’t help the woman, or other women. He could punish this miscreant all he wanted after they’d saved the woman at risk.

“And the other?”

Ben was still choking. He did not respond. It took a couple minutes of gasping for oxygen before he could crawl back into the chair.

“Answer me, you shit.”

“Detective,” he managed finally. “Janet, I only made her kiss me. Twice. It turned out she already had an obsession with me and had been holding it in check. She is pretty fixated on her career. But then someone else,” he drew another deep breath to keep speaking, “programmed her to trick me into a place they were going to lay a trap. That was the restaurant. Finding out about her programming, I removed those changes. But I did make it so,” and yet another deep breath,”she would pass out when the ambush triggered. To get her out of harm’s way.”

Cain ground his fist into his left palm.

“So you let her go into the...”

“ambush anyway. Yes. She was supposed to lead me to them then pass out. I wanted to find them. To know what the hell they want. So yes, I let her lead me where they had planned. If I didn’t show up, they’d just find her and she’d be more than a little at risk anyway. She’d have been kidnapped by now too.”

“Why wouldn’t they anyway?”

“Why would they? As far as they know, she’s still programmed though their ambush failed. So they grabbed someone they thought for certain I cared about. Ginny, who lives with me.”

There was an uncomfortable silence. Cain still glaring at Ben. Ben no longer allowing himself to feel cowed by the large man.

Finally, Cain sat again. With less rage, “Have there been others?”

“Yes. I was for a time after I’d discovered my telepathy… very angry. At women.”

“Fuck. Most men are angry at women. They don’t go around raping them.”

“Sure. It isn’t an excuse. It is only an explanation.”

“So you got even. Violently? Did you make them stand still and beat on them or something?”

“Violently? Hell no. I may be a monster. I’m not that kind of monster. Not at all. Most were those so utterly disinterested because I wasn’t wealthy or very bitchy, mostly. They enjoyed emasculating the guys they rejected. And they were usually already out to get laid. Just with someone they could use and cast aside. In the end it was remarkably…”

The sentence dangled in the air incomplete. Ben was grasping for the explanation. Why did he stop, really? Not because it was the wrong thing to do, which, admittedly it was. More because getting even with random women didn’t fix anything.

“Remarkably what?”

“In the end it was unsatisfying. I didn’t want to be that person. Even if they were just treating other people like objects themselves. I could have just stuck with randomly screwing women I found attractive, but … I wouldn’t be able to keep track of who and where and when and... And by then I had been with Ginny a while and er…”

“And what?”

“Ultimately? I felt responsible for her. It’s an emotional connection that can’t honestly be described as being in love, but it is akin. I do care about her. Before I met her she’d been looking for someone to fill… kind of… fill the role I am to her. So I don’t really feel bad about her at all. The only problem is I didn’t get her prior consent.”

“This is supposed to make me feel better about the other women?”

“No, it’s supposed to give you context. I said it wasn’t an excuse, just an explanation.”

“So you’re a serial rapist.”

“Yes and no. As far as they’re concerned they consented.”

“Of their own will? I think not.”

“You’re the only person who knows different. They won’t think of it any other way unless I do something to make it otherwise. Which would also require considering consent issues and crap. I can’t fix it. I am not going to try either.”

“I can.” Cain pulled out his gun and pointed it at Ben.

Ben winced, squished his eyes closed. This was the point he no longer could put off deciding to control Cain or not. To stick to his intent to enlist aid without controlling. Should he? He could. Should he? It strained his own will between wanting to and wanting to stick completely to his decision about Cain. He didn’t want to die. He had already taken this path knowing it was possible. The fear was like a fist around his chest.

He waited. He waited several long minutes without making that reach to the detective’s mind.

“Shit. Are you controlling me now?”

“No. Though you wouldn’t know if I was. I made a decision when I started to explain and I’m sticking to it. Either you trust me or you kill me.”

The chill in the conversation lasted with silence a bit longer.

“I don’t trust you. I ought to just kill you. I won’t but I don’t trust you. I believe you just think of this as a convenience until you get your playmate back.”

“Be that as it may,” Ben let go a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “I’m trusting you. Attempting to rescue her may get me killed anyway. Which scares the living fuck out of me.”

The bearded man let out a small chuckle at that. “Control freak without control? Yeah, that sounds pretty scary.” The gun went back to his holster, perhaps a bit reluctantly.

Janet answered the door. She stood still. Looking about she didn’t see anyone. Looking at the clock she realized she’d have to hurry now or she’d be late to work. Certainly she had thought there was another twenty minutes to get ready.

Her phone rang. Dammit, she thought, a delay she didn’t need. She saw it was a call from Ben and smiled. Feeling a bit of excitement immediately, she took a deep breath before she answered the call.

“Hello Ben.”

“Good morning lovely lady.”

The familiarity gave her a bit of a brief thrill. She wanted more but really needed to get to work.

“I’m running late, couldn’t it wait until we get to work?”

“I’m not going to make it in today.”

“What? Are you still having problems from Saturday?,” concern laced her tone with disregard for all else now. She strolled over to the window as they spoke.

“Kind of. I have to spend some time with the detective today.” It wasn’t actually a lie. Certainly it wasn’t the entire truth. “I’m very sorry. Please, I’ll try to be in after lunch time if I can shake myself loose, but I don’t know how long it will be. I know you covered for me yesterday but please record it and today as personal days. I don’t want you to be covering for me and get in trouble.”

“Okay. You just let me know later that you’re doing okay, right?”

“I promise. I’ll let you know,” ‘barring unforeseen circumstances’ he added mentally. The phone went quiet as he hung up.

She saw a man in a hooded coat crossing the street below. It meant nothing to her other than she had to hurry her own preparations to head out.

The FBI man Spencer stood ready at the door as Ben and the detective came down to the street. A panel truck was at the curb along with a pair of standard police cruisers and a large SUV. The SUV seemed very out of place.

Unsurprisingly, people stared at the activity but no one seemed to slow down their business, or travels for it. Spencer led Ben and the detective to the truck. After they’d climbed in the back he pounded the side of the vehicle. He climbed in as the truck jolted into motion.

Ben had been directed by a pair of men already in the back of the vehicle to a fold out seat which was opposite computer panels, monitors, speakers, gear of all sort. He had no clue what he was looking at but felt as though he’d made it into the set of a spy thriller.

“Don’t get too excited. Mostly it’s just communication equipment. The actual tracking and reception is provided by receivers, antennae, and repeaters all over the city. You probably can’t be out of range without going two to three hundred miles from the city.”

One of the two technicians opened a panel underneath the monitors, then pulled out a box about the size of a lunch basket. Opening the lid he started to pick out a couple disks the size of a nickle. He pulled on the collar of Ben’s shirt then somehow pinned the little device to the clothe. He tucked one into Ben’s pants pocket, and a other he attached under the laces of his walking shoes.

“Seriously? You’re going to hear everything with those?”

“These are a generation or two behind the best equipment. The CIA is using chips the size of a grain of rice now. Here, hold still,” and he slipped another one into the cuffs of his pants. “If they find a couple of them, it won’t matter. If you are told to lose the wire, just pull the one under your collar out and hand it over to them. The amount of metal in these is so little they aren’t likely to find them easily.”

“Okay. I got it,” he looked over at Cain. “Whatever else happens, please rescue Ginny. I don’t want anything to go wrong, but it is most important to me she is freed.”

“I know that Ben. I got that message clearly upstairs.”

Ben nodded. The special agent patted his shoulder in an attempt to be reassuring. Every bump the truck hit seemed to hit him particularly hard on the tailbone where he was sitting. Reassuring him with a pat on the shoulder wasn’t making this any easier.

“Are you sure you guys aren’t filming a spy thriller?”

The techs laughed. “Relax,” said the one that placed the devices in his clothing. “We’re going to try to stay as close to you as we can. We’re not the only ones either.”

“Sure you say that now. But will you call me for a second date?”

This time even Spencer laughed.

Footsteps. Not one person, but a few. Ginny was thirsty, hungry, tired, and more than a bit scared. She’d peed herself though because they never once took her to use a bathroom.

The hood was lifted just enough so her mouth was outside it but her nose was still covered. Something was pressed to her lips. The mouth of a bottle it felt like. She opened her lips and greedily drank the water she was offered until the bottle was empty. Then someone pulled the hood back down again.

Her arms and legs felt the easing pressure from the ropes she’d been bound by. Weak from thirst and hunger, it was difficult to stand when they pulled her to her feet. Feeling started to return to her fingers. They walked her along clumsily because she was not yet able to get her balance well. It took a bit to keep her from falling over when her feet clumsily stubbed against something that stuck up from the ground. It could have been a titled chunk of sidewalk, a door sill, or anything. She was shoved into a car seat and pushed to the center while two people, men she assumed from their size, squeezed in to either side of her.

There were starts and stops that could have been traffic lights. Bumps in the road, the sound of heavy vehicles, the occasional siren in the distance. After an indeterminate time the vehicle came to a halt and the engine stopped. She tried to listen, so badly wanting to hear Ben’s voice, knowing he wasn’t there. She was scared but something was at least going on.

Someone pulled her to get her out again. A voice she hadn’t heard before told her to help herself stand. The guiding hands on her arms led her along a wooden path of some sort. Shortly they stopped and there were voices. She wanted to cry out for help but was seriously too exhausted to do that right now.

Suddenly she was lifted off the ground from behind and then set down again. It had to be a boat she was put in because she could feel a slight rolling movement when she was put down. She was dragged back to her feet, hauled a bit further and through a small doorway of some sort. Pushed from behind she fell uncomfortably onto thin cushions. In moments she was being tied up again.

The boat was in motion. She could feel the slapping jolts of waves as the hull pushed forward through the water. It was her fervent hope Ben was able to get the ransom they were asking. She had a huge urge to call him about feeling… something. She wanted nothing more than to go home and have him hold her tight for a while. She feared she looked too awful for him to want to hold her.

With the hood on all this time she felt sure they weren’t planning to kill her.

Celia rolled to her side on the bed. It somehow seemed smaller than she remembered. After all this time, the bed at her parents’ was still a place of comfort. But it wasn’t home anymore.

She’d called Francie last night. They chatted for an hour or so about high school. Francie had a boyfriend now and was hesitant to plan any time to get together, but they’d meet up for lunch anyway. That was good. It had taken her mind off how she felt about Ben. Also it took her mind off concerns Ginny was okay somewhere. She had accepted internally the two of them had become her best friends in the City itself. She liked Ginny’s company and had concluded she was very attracted to Ben. She just wasn’t sure yet if she wanted to explore the kind of relationship she would be committing herself to.

Looking at her closet she wondered if any of the dresses in there would still fit. She’d taken all of the clothing she’d really liked with her when she moved to her apartment. She was being too lazy to get up at the moment. Realizing that, she gave her body the command to sit up. Oh, of course. It never works that way. She looked down at her legs, willing them to move without acting on it otherwise. Pooh, she thought. She’d have to actually exert herself for that. Finally she managed to get the cooperation of her arms and legs to sit up.

The closet yielded itself to only being about a third full. Sliding the hangers from one side to another she examined the outfits. One with an extremely short skirt caught her eye. She used to wear that to distract teachers when she put on an act of being much less intelligent. An act she had done so she could get extra time for subjects she wanted to know more about. Or to get improved grades.

It had gotten her lots of invites for dates too. For some reason she put it aside to wear when she was back home. Around Ben perhaps. Jeesh. She took a breath and remembered Ben was probably struggling to resolve the disappearance of Ginny. She should probably be there as his friend in a supportive role but she had no idea how to do so. There was also the issue of how she wanted to interact with them. She had yet to resolve that idea.

Looking at herself in the mirror, she looked at her form. For having lunch with Francie, jeans and a blouse would do fine. There was no need for a short skirt.

Georgiy scanned the jetty with a set of binoculars. The jutting piece of land and stone had been used as a pier for large ships once. Now it was mostly cleared away with boulder sized rocks in place around it, a patch of unkempt weed grown section at the end and asphalt covered parking on the half nearest land. He saw only the parked vehicles with no one on it.

It was early yet, but he wanted to visit it for a few minutes before his quarry arrived. He looked down at the half dozen grayish boxes that read “Back M18A1 APERS MINE” and grinned. Contingency planning for all manner of steps.

It took a few minutes for the boat to dock against the rocks. Taking his time he sought out the handful of places covered with weeds to deposit the little boxes with the “FRONT TOWARDS ENEMY” pointing to the middle of the pier. He’d taken time to rig them to the same frequency though the triggering device in his hand was clumsy and large, almost the size of a baseball. He really wished someone had gotten it to the size of a key fob. Sadly, he hadn’t had time to rig it up as a deadman’s switch, but he slipped it in his pocket anyway.

Taking the glasses out again he looked around at the buildings on land or nearby piers. He knew exactly where the snipers were set up, but saw no indication they were there. Mentally he reached out to touch them, verify they were prepared. Finding them watching him through their own optics, he pulled back into his own mind. He nodded to himself, pleased each of these contingencies were in place. No one else was on the outcropping jetty so far today and he hoped to keep it that way.

No witnesses, at least, not yet anyway. It was unlikely to stay that way, since there were fools who came to fish here though they didn’t catch anything. They wouldn’t matter any though. As far as they’d know, there would just a loud noise.

Georgiy climbed back into the boat and nodded to his pilot. The motor kicked again, he had to hold on as it jolted away from the rocks again. He checked his watch. Still time before Madison showed up for the first call.

He took the time to contact all the people he had in place, making sure they were all set and ready. He’d arranged several methods to bring Madison here. Any one of them would do. The actual means of doing so depended on how much help Madison collected to himself.

Georgiy wasn’t a fool. He was certain Madison would have his own contingencies for this meeting.

Feeling the bouncing through the unpadded seat made Ben’s ride uncomfortable. Worse still was the habit the driver seemed to have of accelerating in a rush while hitting the brakes hard for stops. The techs were obviously used to it. Spencer seemed to be used to it. At least the detective appears to be as discomfited as much as himself.

They finally pulled to a stop. For a few minutes, the doors were not opened. The techs went over again with him what to do with the bugs if he was asked to give up any wire he had on.

“Okay, you have that. Now, one other thing. This isn’t like a normal ransom drop.”

“You got that right,” he mumbled.

“What?”

“Nothing, go on.”

“Because it appears the plan is to snatch you or trade her for you, we’re going to yank you back the minute anything seems to be going wrong. Got that?”

“Yes, I get that. But if there’s any chance at all of rescuing Ginny, that is more important than pulling me out. Do you get that?!”

The tech pulled back a moment. He looked at Spencer who simply nodded. “That’s what he wants most, so let’s try to go with it.”

Shrugging the tech continued, “What we need is a phrase you’d like to use for if you decide you need to us to rush in to get you. Something we’ll hear from the bugs but won’t obviously give away you’re asking for help.”

“Oh, you mean like screaming ‘Help!’ at the top of my lungs?”

“You’re a wise-ass, ya know.”

“Yeah. I know. Do you have any good phrases people have used before?”

“It might be best to use something specific you can remember easily.”

“um,” Ben looked down a moment. “I know. ‘I’m just a copy writer!’”

Cain was the one that laughed at that. “You do keep saying that, don’t you.”

“It has the benefit of being true, being something I might say while protesting them grabbing me, and I’ve said it enough over the last few days I’m likely to think of it.”

Cain nodded to the tech, who took the time to make note of it. Ben watched, “writer, with a ‘w,’ not like someone making a turn or correcting a mistake.”

“It won’t matter,” said Spencer. “Either way will sound the same when said aloud.”

The FBI agent opened the back of the truck and stepped out. The detective followed him. When Ben stepped into the sunlight he felt both the warmth of the sun and the chill of the air.

“I’m anticipating a train ride. They could have asked me to be anywhere and this was where they chose,” Ben said.

“Until they contact you, we’ll have no idea.” Spencer started to lead Ben by the arm but Ben shook loose, walking on his own towards the entrance. He walked past the waiting benches and into the main concourse. The place was busy but not terribly so. Lines of people at the ticket booths, folk heading into the various tracks across from him.

He paused to do a mental scan around him. All he could think was either there were more telepaths around than he thought, or someone does an awful lot of meddling. He didn’t find any tell tale indications any of them were looking for him. He lost count of how many he’d looked at after he spotted more than double digits.

The clock showed he still had ten minutes so he expanded his scan, looking beyond the building and off to the various tracks and trains. People coming or going. Porters hauling luggage. Conductors turning in tickets, preparing to collect tickets, engineers off getting coffee. Men going home from work, coming in to work, women with children, women who’d had rough days at work, women who didn’t want to deal with men too close to them. Not a one that he perceived as a threat.

He looked at the clock. It was time. The hands moved towards the eleven o’clock position. He strolled over to the kiosk in the center of the great hall. Everything felt like it was in slow motion. Each step felt like he was hip deep in mud, slowly working across the hall. His head didn’t move but he was still trying to scan and spot either other telepaths or someone coming at him with a gun.

It turned out that what he wasn’t scanning people’s minds for is what actually happened. Every person he had tapped for threats was clear of actual threat. He couldn’t know he’d missed someone who merely had come close enough to him to slip an object in his pocket. There was no threat to a pickpocket leaving something instead of taking something. That somehow was not anywhere in his criteria for looking for threats.

Cain and Spencer were watching monitors. Four of the monitors carried video from the main hall were positioned well to watch Ben as he came in from the south entrance. The crowd had a moment of thick traffic that passed as he was walking towards the Information booth.

“There.” One of the techs tagged a person who had been close to Ben. “That one. Have somebody pick him up when he comes out.”

Then he tagged another. “Her too. She might have bumped him lightly. I can’t be sure but let’s run a check on her as well.”

The other tech was passing instructions to plainclothesmen outside the building, knowing it would be difficult to pick out the individuals as they moved through the crowd. With a little effort he quickly sent an enlarged image of each of the targets.

“What’s going on out there?” Cain pointed to Ben on the screen. Ben was standing stock still and not looking about to see what might be going on around him.

“The first one has been picked up,” said the second tech.

“He’s just waiting. It is interesting he’s not even trying to look around. Do we have anything from the mics?”

“Background noise.”

“The second one tried to run but has been picked up.”

The clock ticked off long minutes as they waited.

There was a ringing phone near him. His own phone didn’t make a sound like that. Ben looked around. It had to be … he reached into his jacket pocket. The object in there was definitely a cheap cell phone. He was puzzled how it got there. No one he remembered had been close enough to do this.

Not knowing how it got there wasn’t helping though.

“Hello?”

“If you want to see her again you will do as you’re told.”

“I get that. I still want proof she’s okay.”

“Just a moment,” the background noises on the phone were rustling sounds. The same voice, muffled a bit said, “talk to him.”

“Sir? Ben? They tied me up. I can’t see an...” She was cut off again. It was clearly Ginny’s voice.

“Get on a number seven to Vernon Boulevard. Stand by the entrance outside the station for further instructions.”

The connection was gone.

He spoke for the benefit of the men in the van. “I’m off to take the seven to Vernon Boulevard.” Then he hurriedly started to the subway entrance.

The tech pulled open the panel to the driver. “We’re going to Queens. Better hurry. We need to get to the Vernon Boulevard stop of the number seven.”

The truck jolted in motion and Cain had to brace himself so he didn’t fall over.

Spencer just sat there grinning.