The Psionic Directives - Preview

"Mum. Mum!"
Linda Bentworth could hear the cries faintly through her sleep. She forced herself to wake up and quickly moved to her son's bedroom, carefully avoiding knocking over a dark lamp in the hall.
As she expected, her son was sitting up in bed, the covers brought up tightly under his chin.
"What's wrong Benny?" she asked.
"I had a scary dream." he answered. "Can I sleep in your bed?"
Linda smiled as she picked up Benny and carried him out of the room.
"Oh, wait!" he said before they'd reached the door.
She put him down and he ran back to his bed, grabbing a stuffed bear and a book before returning to his mother.
Linda took him back to her bedroom and they climbed into bed.
Benny was six years old. He was the son of Linda's former boyfriend, Tim Sharpel. Tim however, had gone insane shortly after the 'extraction'....
Linda didn't even think about it any more. It was too painful. She'd been so instrumental in the destruction of Tim's mind that she just couldn't think of him. But she could never completely get away. Every time she looked into her son’s eyes, Tim Sharpel was there. Staring straight back at her. Asking her if it was worth it. Just so that they could get their 'Codex’ – their ‘solution.’ A quick fix to their mighty organisation’s inadequacies and failures.

The Overseers had left her alone these past six years. She ran a convenience store in a quiet Birmingham street. Her son was happy. That was one small consolation. One day she'd have to tell him what happened to his father. She could lie, but if he ever found out the truth then it could do more harm than good.
"Mum, can you read to me?" Benny asked, passing his book over his mother.
Linda opened the book of bible stories she'd bought her son. She didn't really believe in what it contained herself, but she knew that if Benny grew up with these stories, which filled him with hope and optimism, then he might be able to have a happier life than her.
"Okay, which story do you want?"
"Joseph!"
"You mean Joseph and Mary?"
"No. Joseph, the man who talked about the dreams."
"Come on Benny, you had that one last night...."
"Yeah well I like it!"
Linda gave up trying to debate with her son, and began to read. She enjoyed reading the stories herself really. She'd never heard them when she was young, having been raised by The Overseers, who were strictly atheist.
When she'd reached the end, Benny asked her a question that confused her.
"Mum, why did the king of Egypt have dreams?"
Linda decided to have a crack at answering the question.
"Well, so Joseph could tell him what they meant. That way, the king would make Joseph a very important man and let his family live in Egypt."
"Why do I have dreams?" her son asked.
"Everybody has dreams Benny. But they only come when you're asleep. They're nothing to be worried about. What do you dream about?"
"Everything."
'Everything?' What did he mean by that?
"Goodnight Mum." her son said, turning over.
"Goodnight." she said quietly, still turning what he'd said over in her mind. In the end, she gave up trying to sort it out and turned out the light, letting her boy fall asleep.
But what he’d said had disturbed her, and she felt unable to simply slip back into unconsciousness. It was probably nothing, but a few extra moments awake wouldn’t hurt. A few moments to think. Benny was a beautiful boy, who’d inherited his father’s deep chocolate coloured eyes and hair. She hoped that was all he’d inherited. Linda was almost disappointed she couldn’t see much of herself in him, but that could change as the boy grew, and Linda was determined to see him do that as a normal, happy, healthy kid, with no Overseer bullshit getting in the way.

The clank of a chain outside resonated through the apartment, jerking Linda wide-awake with a start. Her eyes darted from the window to the bedside clock. Half past two, a whole 45 minutes had passed since Benny had come to her bedroom. It hadn’t seemed like so long. But there was nothing outside the window, nothing to suggest…
Then, several more faint clanks of metal against metal crept into her room. Gently checking Benny was okay, she pulled the covers up so only the boy’s head was exposed, then crept out to his room, her bare feet silent in the hall, but if the intruder was in the mood for a fight, she was hardly dressed for it in her thin singlet and loose track pants. At 34, she was still fit, and her Overseer training had never failed her, even in her life since leaving that hellish organisation. But if the intruder had been sent by them…
As she reached the doorway of her son’s room, she gently slid open a cupboard in the hall and took a tiny handgun from the top shelf. She had never had to use it before, but always kept it loaded, her last momento of her former life.
Brushing a lock of her long blonde hair off her face, Linda peered to the window of her son’s room. It was open, the curtain flapping in the cold wind, and as she’d feared, a thin but strong chain hanging down… that scratched the Overseer theory. Her former colleagues would never use such primitive equipment, preferring their own blend of nylon and aluminum fibre ropes.
Linda carefully raised her gun and made her way to the window, looking out.

Before she could check how far up the chain had come from, she heard a sound behind her. Raising a hand, she blocked a shattering blow from the intruder behind her. She nimbly flipped her body over his arm and the mercenary whined with pain as his hand twisted in her grasp, but Linda quickly raised her gun once more as she looked at her attacker. He was roughly her height, with long, shaggy black hair and a well-kept beard, dressed entirely in black. A classic member of The Vulture Consortium, a relatively small time mercenary syndicate compared to larger rivals such as the WASPS or the Overseers’ own children of the dark, The Latrocinium Order.

“What do you…?” Linda began to demand.
But before she could finish, the room was filled with a blinding flash of light, and she doubled over in shock, guarding her eyes. Linda had no idea what that could possibly have been. It certainly wasn’t a standard trick from the Vulture’s book. But she’d have to think about it later. The mercenary made a break, but Linda was now fighting for her family, and was quick to block his entry to the apartment, sending him to the floor with a roundhouse kick to his chest. The intruder regained his feet instantly, delivering several punches that Linda was able to block. But her skills were not as sharp as they had once been, and her gun was sent flying. The man picked up the weapon but the movement gave Linda enough time to grab his shirt and throw him up against the wall, landing punches to his face and stomach. Lifting a leg, the mercenary pushed her away and raised the gun, but landing on her son’s bed, Linda rounded and kicked the gun from his hand. She watched, dismayed as it sailed out the window to the street below. It was a mistake. She didn’t see the switchblade that the attacker was now taking out, until he had already thrown it. His aim was low, but it was enough to swipe her leg before she could get out of the way. Linda screeched in pain as the blade tore her flesh, and she could hear her son calling to her, terrified, wondering what was going on.
“It’s okay sweetie, just…” she tried to reply, but the mercenary was on the move again. This time, Linda leaped after him and tackled the man to the ground, her movements clumsy as she tried limping her way to a point of advantage. She was able to roll and come up standing between the intruder and the rest of her apartment. Linda delivered a strong kick to his face, wincing as her weight shifted to her wounded leg. But the attacker was not held off for long and came at her again, this time met with a bracing swipe of the mother’s nails to his throat. Clutching his neck in pain trying to stem the flowing blood, the mercenary quickly began to retreat, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on Linda.

“Okay! Okay!” He pleaded, raising a hand helplessly.
Linda shook her head as she advanced on him. “You fucking son of a bitch.” She muttered. With that, she lunged forward at the attacker, who managed a punch across her face sending her back across the room. They were now, back in Benny’s bedroom and Linda could no longer hear the cries of her son. Not a sound, except the breathing of the two combatants, who were now staring each other down with murderous rage.

Suddenly, the mercenary’s eyes became glazed, and before Linda could say another word, the man ran for the open window and leaped out. Linda darted after him, looking out the window to the street below, hearing a desperate scream before seeing the intruder’s body hit the pavement. Her mouth hanging open in awe and shock, she cautiously looked back into her apartment, stepping silently into her living room, checking the door to her bedroom as she passed it. She was amazed to find Benny had fallen back to sleep. But the boy seemed fine, and Linda peered into the dark of her lounge. And there, atop her kitchen bench, a dark figure sat, watching her intently. It was impossible to tell much about the man in the dark, but what was clear were his dark sunglasses, black leather over jacket and serious expression, his gaze never leaving her. An Overseer.

Linda’s breath became quick and nervous, despite her attempts to hide it. If this guy decided to start trouble, there would be nothing she could do to resist him. Indeed, if the display she had seen in her son’s bedroom was any indicator, she would be helpless for as long as her new companion wished it, which was exactly the way The Overseers had always operated.
“What do you want?” she asked quietly, trying to keep her manner polite.
The Overseer tilted his head slightly, still staring at her, like a bird sizing up its prey.
“Gratitude… is not your strongest…” he began, his quiet tone matching hers.
“I am sorry.” Linda replied, trying to stay calm. “Thank you, now may I ask what…”
“Linda, Linda…” The Overseer interrupted. “No need to interrogate old friends surely?”
Linda peered into the dark, trying to discern the man’s identity. With his jet-black hair and choice of clothing, he could have been any number of Overseers she had once known. It couldn’t have been….
“Marcus?” she asked, now almost timid.
The Overseer laughed at her. “With respect to Marcus, I would like to see him pull off a trick like the one you saw in there.” He laughed, pointing to her son’s room.
Linda was now even more confused, but the man kept her in no further suspense, nimbly hopping down from the marble bench. It was now Linda realised he was several inches shorter than herself, and as he removed his glasses, his bright blue eyes radiated a warmth that almost made Linda relax.
“Oh my god… Matthew?”
The Overseer smiled broadly as he approached her.
“How are you Linda?” he asked.
The ex Overseer couldn’t help but laugh at her own nervousness. Sure enough, Matthew was an old friend, and one of few Overseers she still had time for. As he came close, she embraced him in a warm hug, breathing a sigh of relief over his shoulder.
“I’m sorry I scared you.” He said. “I did not think you would appreciate an overt entrance.”
“I’m just… my god, what are you doing here?”
Matthew backed off and looked at her. This time, he was the one between them feeling nervous.
“Well, apparently saving your son’s arse.” He replied. “And probably yours, you seem a little out of practice.”
Linda smiled, letting the comment pass over her.
“Coffee?” she asked.
“No thank you. I don’t touch it.”
Linda moved across to her kitchen and started making herself coffee, switching on one of the smaller lights over the stove. Matthew crossed to the couch and sat down, looking over the apartment.
“I’m assuming this is not a social visit.” Linda said dryly.
“You would be correct.”
Linda didn’t bother urging the conversation on. She was not really in a hurry to get to the point.
“You’ve set yourself up rather well here.” Matthew complimented her, indicating the room and its furnishings. “Love the use of colour. Black and grays can get so tedious after the first few years.”
Linda laughed as she finished making her coffee and brought it over to the lounge.
“You could say I’ve been keen to get as far away from… the past as possible.”
“That’s understandable. I’m sensing the trauma still haunts you.”
Linda stared at Matthew for a moment, her eyes wide, worried that…
“Oh stop it!” she laughed, giving him a friendly push away.
The telepathic Overseer burst out laughing. “Did you really think I’d come all this way just to scan your thoughts when your actions make them so clear?”
“Alright Confucius, that’ll do.”
“I didn’t mean to be patronising, you just tend to wear your heart on your sleeve.”
Linda took a sip of her coffee and gently set the mug back down.
“So how did you… you know… with the Vulture?”
Matthew shrugged. “Weak minds are easy to take over. Besides, I’d never sent an enemy to his death by mind control before. I wanted to try it out.”
“And my son?”
“Won’t remember any of it. He’s out like a light in there right now, dreaming peacefully.”
“You’re a sick puppy. You couldn’t have dealt with him a bit faster?” she asked, rubbing her cut leg.
“No, I needed to extract some information first. You don’t think I’m going to go back to Marcus empty-handed do you? He’s going to want to know about this.”
Linda got up. Marcus was not a topic she wanted to discuss. Matthew shifted in his seat with slight discomfort.
“Linda, I am sorry but I really don’t have much time.” he began.
“I was afraid you would say that.” Linda sighed. “What does ‘Oz the great and powerful’ want now?”
Matthew smiled. “That, my dear, is a piece of news I think is best taken sitting down.”