The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Closing my eyes I could feel the clatter of the metal on metal as well as the roll of the car in the tunnel.

I was becoming angry again. I could feel rage that had been building since I found the apartment empty. Not letting it control me was difficult but possible. I needed something I could control.

Helpless. I’d learned some people like feeling helpless with someone else in control. Darkness inside me said I was not one of them. Anger came up from my darkness because I couldn’t manage this situation. I’d done so once before.

Best laid plans and all that. I had no plan this time. All I could do was wait. See what happened. Wait. Wait some more.

Hearing Master’s voice was a relief. She had heard just enough of the tinny conversation to know for certain it was him. Knowing he wanted to be sure she was alive meant a lot to her.

The boat seemed to be bobbing on waves now. They’d lain her down on some kind of padded bench. Then they rebound her legs. The change from the chair was enough to cause her to doze off a bit. It wasn’t long before her thoughts drifted into her subconscious corners.

Her dreams were vivid and about being with Sir.

Francie had been at the diner before she arrived. A wave from her at the booth she’d claimed was all Celia needed to locate and join her.

“Hi!,” Francie rushed to her feet and gave her a hug. Francie still looked slim as she had in the days of high school cheer-leading. She too had put on jeans for getting together, running shoes, an a blouse that accented her small chest since she had no bra. Francie just plain never saw the point to bras as Celia remembered. She had grown into her size a bit, but they were still little hills at best.

“Hello,” Celia answered, putting her purse down, removing her coat, settling in opposite her friend. “What’s new in your world?”

Francie brandished her hand in front of her. A pretty diamond ring adorned her ring finger. Celia took hold of her hand and pulled it closer to look.

“No way. No way. And you didn’t call me?”

“It just happened this weekend.”

“Do I know him?”

“You sure do. You dated him at least once or twice. Jaime Altenar. Remember him?”

“I thought he was going into the army.”

“He changed his mind and got a job selling cars. He managed to do well enough to become a manager.” Francie grinned. “I think he’s going to be looking to get a franchise somewhere eventually. He’s been very successful building up the bank account and we live together in an apartment in Hartsdale. It’s a little small for us. But I love being there.”

“I’m amazed. I never thought he was particularly ambitious.”

“You always did hold people up to measure against standards they rarely met.”

“Hey.”

“What? You know you do. Or did. I don’t know what you’re doing now.”

“I’ve been avoiding relationships. I’m taking classes towards my masters in economics. I’ve been bored to tears in a marketing class this semester.”

“You’re still at Columbia and haven’t found a man to hook up with?”

“hmm. You could say that.”

“Not a woman, you never really seemed the sort to be interested in women.”

“Oh, hell no. Though there is a sweet lady upstairs from me who is sexy as hell. It has more to do with her demeanor than anything else. Liberated would be absolutely the wrong word but free of care.”

“So you are interested in women?”

“She comes attached to a guy.”

“That doesn’t tell me anything.”

“No I’m not interested in women but if I were she would be one I’d be interested in?”

“Is that a threesome kind of deal?”

“um. So, what’s on the menu?”

Francie laughed. She picked up the menu and signaled for the waitress.

The IRT station for the number seven at Vernon Avenue is underground. When he came up the stairs he was next to a place called the Donian Cafe. Fiftieth Street and Vernon Avenue. He wondered to himself what the Cat’s Pajamas across the street sold.

He stepped over to the corner and found there were some newspaper boxes on the Fiftieth Street side. He sat-leaned against the one on the end. He waited.

Anyone could be watching him. He did his now almost habitual full circle scan for threats. There were a couple of people watching him after all. One from the pub across the street, another just standing at the exit from the IRT at the opposite corner. Plumbing their minds only got that they were to call a number and tell whoever that he’d showed up. Then watch until called again.

At the widest of his sweeps he wasn’t sure he’d be able to find the LEOs who were trying to keep up. Sure, he thought, they were going to stay real close to him. That tech must tell that to all the boys and girls. All that did was make him remember the words of Detective Shaw about not trusting the uniformed officers, possibly not the FBI agent.

He shook his head, checking the time. They’d show up about the time he started moving again, he bet.

Shaw got the text on his phone. Cain was updating him on where they were. He was looking over maps to see if there was anyplace nearby they’d be going. The location in Queens didn’t make much sense. It was open, busy, and pretty easy for police to respond quickly. The bridge nearby made that even more likely.

Queens. Where in Queens could they be directing Ben to go? He thought perhaps they had someone nearby to sweep him for the wire. Not to mention checking him for weapons. He wondered if Cain had thought to provide Ben a vest. Probably not since it’d make him stick out like a sore thumb in most public places he might have to go.

Desk duty sucked. His partner was out there with people he didn’t fully trust. He had a thought. Opening the browser he started to search for GPS tracking software specifically designed for parents. After a few minutes he texted Shaw to download, install and send him the account number with the password for a thing called Teenwatch.

If all else failed, he could go to his partner without having to get a street address. That is, if only Cain went along with the idea.

It was a long ten minutes before he got the text back from Cain. “App installed.” The next text gave him the information he needed to be able to track his partner’s phone.

He wished he’d thought of that last night. It might have saved on a lot of texting. Maybe.

A rusted gray van pulled up at the opposite corner, blocking his view of the guy watching him. The guy didn’t move to watch around the van. Then the van pulled away again and the man was still there. Some kind of leather jacket and black pants made him stick out a bit.

“Jeeze, I hope you guys are close.” He was starting to wonder if the phone in his pocket would ring.

Another five minutes went by and no call yet. He knew the kidnappers were aware he was where they told him to be. The two observing him had already called their boss. Something had to happen soon.

He was getting a bit tired of doing scan sweeps. Nothing different was coming up. Though, he had added in any interest in him at all for a bit and that got store owners, bus drivers, hack drivers, a few women walking by, some of the more neanderthal guys who looked to see if he had tats they could see, a uniformed cop that drove past, and so on. He was set to give that up soon. Too much useless feedback in the effort.

The rusted gray van was coming back. Looking at the van he scanned the occupants. Doing a deeper pass at them, he found six guys all focused on him. It was a pickup instead of a phone call this time.

“A bunch of guys in hoods are coming in a rusted gray van,” he said. “uh, I cannot read the plate.”

The van screeched to a halt next to him. One man piled out of the passenger door, two others from the sliding door on the side. The three he had a good look at were bulky with their bare arms. They had tattoos all over. The closest one wore a bandanna, a dark red thing. His hands were large enough to look like melons. One of those clenched into a fist. The other two were carrying knives. The fist started towards him.

Ben had enough. He reached out mentally. The fist dropped to the man’s side and the knives disappeared as quickly. Two of them took his shoulders and pushed him into the back of the van but by then he was smiling.

Damn but the floor in the back of the van was hard, he thought. Now though he had control of all six men. He was sure the kidnappers knew this would happen. A quick check told him these guys were part of the Skull of Tarantula gang. He’d never heard of them before but there were plenty of groups out there.

At his direction they tugged off their masks. The driver had scars all over his face and was bald. They all had short van dyke beards. There were a couple bags in the vehicle he knew contained automatic weapons and a couple grenades. He was very glad to know they decided not to just drive by and shoot. Apparently they’d been hired to knock him off. The person who hired them paid the gang for the hit. How they were to do it was up to them.

Ben sat up against the side of the van. All the seats other than driver’s and passenger had been removed. Death squads were not worried about comfort when approaching. At least one of the two watchers were theirs. The team itself only knew about one watcher. Who was the second one talking to. It could be the leadership of the gang hadn’t trusted them to know about another watch.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and thought. Dammit, who had did he pick that habit up from? He had the driving going in large circles in Queens. What did he do now? They were telepaths running this plan. This was just a first shot from these guys. They had to believe he was out of his comfort zone being out of Manhattan.

He pulled the burner phone they’d planted from his pocket. He checked in its memory for the last number that called. There was a number. It was likely another burner phone but maybe they still had it.

There was a number there. There was. He read the number aloud. The techs listening in had brains enough to try to track it down. Probably they could find the closest tower to it pretty quickly. Counting on that wasn’t his best option though.

He struggled with how best to resolve this without giving away to the feds his talent. Yes. It bothered him that he had two adversaries at the same time, one allegedly helping him. If the feds got wind of his skill he really believed he’d end up as a lab rat in no time. He had no clue how they’d overcome the telepathy but he was certain they would. Trusting Cain was a huge risk. Trusting the feds was another thing altogether.

Power was turning out to be a very difficult tool to wield. It never bothered him before when he had manipulated minds The marketing work he did for a living since school was every bit mentally manipulating people on a grand scale. They twisted people’s mind for even a five percent benefit in sales. What he had done to date might be more individually effective. No. He wasn’t going to try to fool himself. What he could do was more directly damaging with carelessness.

Power usually came from one person giving it to another. Or a group of people giving it to someone. The marketing activities of politics was just that, an exercise in selling one man or party in such a way that people gave power over to them. He saw that.

Aptly enough his relationships with Ginny and Janet reflected the use of an ability that was beyond mere persuasion. Ginny was one extreme of what telepathy could do to control someone. Even though she really was looking for someone to be her dom she’d not chose him from her choice. Much of what he’d learned about dominance and submission had come from her own ideas and ideals. Without drawing those thoughts from her, he’d have been thinking it was all just a kink, not a state of emotional connection. With Janet all he’d done was the nudge. The nudge was what made her release her own inner wanton thoughts and because they were already directed at him, she gave him a power over her he simply had not exerted yet.

Celia. Now Celia he’d made every effort to display the abilities he’d learned with all the time with Ginny. She already showed sides of giving him her power from the ties of emotion he’d learned to demonstrate. All by using normal human methods to persuade her of his ability to safely hold her power.

Yes, the telepathy was useful for things he didn’t give a damn about. The six gang members in the van with him he was programming to slowly turn out their own criminal associates to the authorities. Once he was done with them.

The phone still in his hand rang.

“I’ve been waiting for your call,” he said.

“What do you know, you’re not totally incompetent,” came the Russian sounding accent.

“I want proof of life again and more than a short sentence this time.”

“There’s no reason for me to do more than I have already.”

“You guys are scared of me for some reason. If I start to think she’s not alive and won’t be turned loose, I have no reason to just go where you tell me.”

Silence followed. The silence stretched out longer than was comfortable.

“Ben? Is that you Sir?” Her voice sounded raspy but not too distressed.

“Yes Ginny. I’m doing everything necessary to get you to safety.”

“Oh Sir. I’m just glad to hear your voice.”

“Keep good thoughts and I will do what I can. Put the Russian back on the phone.”

A moment of rustling and the man said. “Satisfied Mister Madison?”

“Yes. Where am I going?”

“Brooklyn. I will call you with specifics. Head towards the Marine Terminal.”

“Brooklyn, Marine Terminal.”

The phone clicked off.

With the hood over her head, her captors could not see her smile. Ben, her Sir, he was trying to save her. It no longer felt like she was tied up being kidnapped. It now felt as though she was bound to please her Sir. The person she thought closest to understanding how she felt about him was the woman she’d been trying to get to share him with her. Celia would be a wonderful sister to share Sir with.

“South Brooklyn Marine Terminal” the text said.

Shaw slipped his backup piece into his pocket. He may be benched officially, but he wasn’t going to leave his partner without emergency backup.

He stopped at the front desk where Toomey was.

“Hey. If anyone asks, I got called by my wife who has an emergency.”

“Is she okay?”

“She’s fine. I’m… er. You know.”

“ah, Yes sir. I’ll tell anyone who asks.”

Georgiy was not surprised the gang failed. If he told their leadership, they’d escalate the effort to get Madison but by then he’d know to look for them. They had no defenses against a mentalist. They’d just end up back on his doorstep for him to clean up. No, he thought, might as well go to the next step.

He peered through the field glasses again, looking for unwanted witnesses. There had to be one of course, a fisherman. That was easily fixed. He prodded the man’s mind to decide it was too chilly out here to be casting his line, even if he was all wrapped up in a down jacket. The fisher started packing up to leave.

That hadn’t been any challenge at all.

The gerla was asleep. How provident he thought. Soon enough she could stay that way. Or, peering at her curves, he could make use of her even if he couldn’t control her mind. He hadn’t had the fun of taming a spirited woman in some time. How had this Madison fellow protected her mind like that, he wondered.

He was sure the Skulls had been programmed to proceed Madison in anywhere he was told to go. When he showed up at the terminal they would have another little phone call about who could come out onto the jetty. There would be the cops following after him as well.

Whichever of them was ascendant, they’d be easy enough to manage the remaining sheep.

Cain watched as the driver sped towards Brooklyn now. First they’d been on the way to Queens, now to Brooklyn.

Looking at the map of the Marine Terminal he could make out plenty of empty buildings. Saying Ben was right though and all they wanted was his corpse. Would they want a closed in space with warrens to hide in, maze like passages, and plenty of cover? The detective was sure they would want something with open fields of fire.

He had memories of what it was like to be moving from building to building trying to ferret out someone well armed. Doing it with grenades and automatic weapons, with night vision goggles, with plenty of people behind you providing cover and over watch. Over watch. Where would he put someone with sniper experience?

If they had a sniper, they’d want this large jetty, he calculated. How do you flush out snipers with from buildings across the water barriers? He wished he could communicate with Ben. He now had a clue where the ambush would be. Or the exchange, which he doubted was the intent at all.

Shaw at least knew now where this was all heading. He could alert the local precinct. The only problem with that was Shaw had no clue about the telepathy thing. The uniforms could be walking right into a situation they simply could not control.

Detective Cain shuddered. He’d realized how intensely this depended on Ben’s ability working better than his enemies’.

Empty dishes were being taken away from the table by a busboy as Celia looked at how Francie looked. Her features seemed a bit more stark than they’d been in school. She’d re-applied the red lipstick she had been wearing when Celia came in.

“You watched while he blew off in her mouth?”

“It was… amazing and emotional strangely enough.”

Francie shook her head. “You’ve become wilder. Maybe you shouldn’t be living in the City but commuting to classes instead.”

“To Columbia? From here? Do you have any clue what the trip is like when the trains have problems?”

“Dad told me one winter he had two days in a row it took him six hours both direction. So yeah, I have a clue.”

“Well then, I can’t commute for school.”

“I suppose. I’ll give you a call about the wedding.”

“Please do. I look forward to it.”

Throughout the conversation she hadn’t reveled her concerns about Ginny’s safety. She wasn’t entirely sure why she had come home while a friend was at risk and another frantic. The timing though. Looking inside herself she found a hunger to be free the way Ginny was with Ben. Now Ginny was kidnapped. She wondered how her neighbor was doing. Fear for Ginny’s safety became far more substantial than before. Being helpless about Ginny’s situation made her anxious.

After they’d parted, Celia felt her lunch with Francie felt odd. Hollow in a way. She felt she should be somewhere else. She remembered the words from Ben more than anything in the lunch conversation, reassuring her, of course she had a choice.

The morning had passed rather slowly for Janet. She was certain Ben was off at some police station getting or giving details to their internal investigators.

She kept going over what she could remember about events Saturday. All she could remember was seeing the woman with the gun. Then she was in the back of an ambulance. It had been very pleasant being out with Ben until that happened. She never fainted before, so that seemed out of place to her as much as the woman with a gun.

Picking up her phone she put it down just as quickly. Checking on him while he was with the police was clearly not the best idea. He’d promised to call.

Unable to focus, she did try to get some of her work done. Emails, phone calls, contract reviews… it could back up if she let it.

Shaw was there first.

It wasn’t clear to him where the kidnappers would be waiting but he could try to scope out some of the buildings. The unmarked car he had pretty well blended in with others in the area. He had no worries he’d be spotted as a cop without doing something obvious.

Whatever traffic impediments Ben and Cain were having getting here, he was glad of the time to get the lay of the land, to scope out things. Several of the buildings were clearly marked for demolition. He saw no indications of any presence there, but he wouldn’t if the kidnappers were hiding in wait.

After looking at buildings missing half a wall, or simply with smashed windows, knowing the others were on the way he parked his car, illegally by a fire hydrant but in a central location.

And waited.

The FBI van, nondescript as it was, couldn’t simply drive around in the open doing nothing. Someone would notice.

Cain’s conclusion had been kept to himself about the likely location of the meet. He didn’t have enough good reasons to offer the techs or agent Spencer. They all were studying the available overhead imagery from old photos. He wished they’d been able to get a helicopter allocated to this. He wondered why with all their resources the FBI had chosen not to bring a helicopter into this.

“There,” Spencer pointed to the jetty Cain had thought likely. “In the parking among those trucks and vans, get us in there. The tech closes to the driver turned to get instructions passed on as the special agent had directed.

Cain nodded. “Good choice. We should be able to respond from there quickly.”

One handed he sent a text to Shaw where the FBI van would be, warning they didn’t know where the meet really was yet.

Ben took his time. He had the gang’s driver take the trip as slowly as possible to give the LEOs time to get in place. Knowing he couldn’t have it look like the gang was answering to him, he would have to just have them dump him in the right area when he got there. It would look suspicious if they gave him a hand getting out of this old gray van.

Lifting the phone, he selected the number that had called him. After he dialed he listened to the number of rings before it was answered.

“You must be close.” The Russian accent identified the man he’d talked to before.

“The Marine Terminal is a large area, you’ve got to give me more detail.”

“Come along First Avenue, when you reach forty-second street, turn towards the water. The jetty there, that’s the one you’ll be wanting.”

“She better be safe and unhurt when I get there.”

“You better walk out here alone or I won’t guarantee that.”

“You don’t get me until I see her walk away safely.”

“Just get here Mudak.” The phone went dead.

“Mudak? What does that mean?” He let out a sigh and gave verbal directions aloud to his alleged captors, wanting the FBI and Cain to know where the meet was.

The tech next to Cain said “It means Asshole. Only with worse connotations than asshole does in English.”

“We’re in the wrong place.” Cain said.

The van started moving, the driver having heard which of the jetties they really needed to be at. Spencer sat at the back as impassive as Cain had seen him so far.

Ginny had woken up, hearing the phone conversation. She wondered to herself if she could get the hood off. The kidnappers didn’t want her to see them, probably to avoid being identified later. There might be a way to get free though while Ben had them distracted. Should she?

The cabin was filled with useful items. Things she couldn’t see. If she’d been able to see, there was a paring knife sized blade tucked in next to some of the charts in a pigeon hole cabinet across the small space. Unless the mask came off, there was no knowing that though. Just as she didn’t know the kidnapper she was dealing with had no intention of letting Ben live.

Scanning about him, Ben sensed the men in the FBI van. As the van he was in pulled into the parking lot next to a building with the words “Studio 21” on it, he was starting to form up a picture in his mind of which people out there mattered and which didn’t.

Pretty much as he’d instructed the thugs with him, they unceremoniously hefted him to his feet and pushed him out the door onto the pavement. One of them went so far as to give him the finger. Fuck, he thought. He’d skinned one of his elbows and probably bruised a knee.

The rusted gray van zoomed away as quickly as the driver could manage. Ben momentarily took time to congratulate himself. Those six would soon be helping cops roll up some of their gang. Whether they survived or not didn’t worry him. They’d been out to kill him.

Imagining the area around himself like a thin rubber sheet, he was trying to prioritize importance of the people near him. There were about twenty so odd people in the two buildings to either side of him. All of those could be disregarded. They were busy. Who knew Studio 21 made furniture?

It took only a few moments to find Cain and Spencer were pushing out the back of the FBI van. Also he detected Shaw slowly moving his car up First Avenue. His immediate concern was the two minds he could detect of men with sniper rifles. A thousand yards or more away from the target jetty, he wondered to himself if the Russian had a much shorter scanning range than he did.

He also spotted Ginny’s vibrant soul out on the water. With her there appeared to be a mind that was like a rock. It wasn’t hidden but touching it to scan was like walking into a wall. He staggered while he walked forward. He expected the Russian to be a telepath but had no idea how it would be meeting mind to mind with him.

There was a probe trying to slip in his head but the little maze like traps he’d laid earlier were occupying that effort. While that was going on he put his voice in Cain’s head.

‘There are two police snipers, they are being controlled. I’d like to avoid hurting them,’ he sent. He also sent a visualization of where they were.

Cain did not physically react but he did mentally. For a moment he believed he’d been violated and then took a breath pausing.

Spencer, walking along with him stopped also.

“Nothing. I just saw something. Give me a minute.” He turned his head back and forth between the two sniper locations, trying to spot anything to support what Ben had sent him.

Meanwhile, ignoring the probe sent at him, he slipped into the mind of first one of the snipers, then the other, triggering somnolence and then sleep. They both slowly had dropped to the floor unconscious with their rifles now pointed skyward. After he’d done that he swatted a thought he tried to imagine as a sharp blade across the mental probe sent against him.

Georgiy grunted as his attempt to slip into Ben’s mind was cut short. He believed he had only just made contact, didn’t realize his effort was gliding off small barriers as though they were Teflon. The mental shield he had up had taken a solid thud it easily deflected. The Madison telepath was not breaking through and had used a brute force attack to cut off his probe. He probably had no shield to speak of.

Georgiy smiled. He could keep the mentalist busy while bringing him into the trap. If the snipers didn’t get him, the claymores would. All that was necessary was to keep Madison’s thoughts occupied with trying to wrestle mentally.

Ginny, in her struggles and writhing, finally managed to slip the hood off. They tied the draw string that closed it under her chin so all she’d really had to do was loosen the string. What had happened though was she found a pipe with a faucet hand-wheel on it. She’d slipped the bottom of the hood over it and put her entire weight into pulling back and the string finally broke. She thought for sure the vibration from the pipe would give away her activity.

But now, she could see the insides of the cabin. The door was open though. The man out on the deck looked very focused at the moment with a pair of binoculars.

“Did you put snipers out there?,” Cain asked Spencer before he realized how silly the question sounded.

“We only just found the location, so they couldn’t be ours. What did you see?”

Cain pointed to the two locations Ben had sent him. “There. And there. I saw what looked like someone in those windows with rifles.

Spencer looked at both disparate locations and wondered what in the heck Cain could have seen.

“I think we’d better go check them out. I’ll take the one to the south. You get the other one.”

Spencer’s eyes narrowed. “It sounds like a plan but how will we keep an eye on Mr. Madison?”

“He seems to be taking this slow, we probably have enough time. Get going. I’m off to get mine.”

With firm intent, Cain started to sprint towards the building he’d indicated. He was going to stop any assassination from happening if he could. Besides, if anyone was going to shoot Ben, it would be him.

Shaw pulled into the parking area where Ben had been pushed out of the van. He spotted Ben walking out onto the jetty. He appeared to be in no rush. Offshore there appeared to be a small boat. He’d bet the kidnappers were out there with a plan to use the water route for an easy getaway.

Then he spotted Detective Cain heading towards a building to the south of the jetty. Maybe to get a better view, he wondered? Shaw thought it odd his partner seemed alone. Where was the FBI during all this?

Dueling mentally was turning into a learn on the job activity for Ben. Georgiy was still trying to worm his way into his mind. Ben was unable to slam his way through the other man’s mental barrier. There had to be a way to change the balance.

Focusing on walking forward at the edge of the jetty, he had to split his focus between walking and sending tendrils out to find weaknesses in Georgiy’s wall. At the same time, Georgiy was sending sharp needles at him as well as the tendrils to penetrate his own maze barrier. He’d have to stop his opponent from being able to poke at him at the boundaries better.

Ben started to imagine for himself a great ball of metal around himself. Big enough to contain him and close enough to put his energies into. He wanted to think of it as solid, but realized it would have to be hollowed out since he could not sustain a solid to the core barrier.

His odd rubber surface scan was still picking up but he was unable to pay much attention to it. The effort to pinch through to Georgiy’s mind, the ball barrio he’d established, trying to scan was just one more thing he couldn’t put a lot of energy into.

Statistically, less than five percent of the population are capable of multitasking. Ben had the ability to multitask but it meant focus to each activity wasn’t the same. He was so busy seeking new ways to use the telepathic powers he had that there really wasn’t much he could devote to focus on anything but fighting Georgiy at the moment.

Georgy’s pillars of penetrating force were now slamming against the barrier Ben had put up. He felt them as if they were chipping away the surface of his security. He felt compressed in the onslaught, having to add effort to the defense periodically.

So he flung energy into pile driver like probes to meet Georgiy’s effort. The blows were striking each other in the mind space they seemed to occupy between the two combatants. At this point, Ben started to wonder if this wasn’t more like fencing than trying to club each other. So he extended his next mental force with less energy to simply redirect Georgiy’s sledge hammer strokes to the side and away.

The building was a large empty warehouse like structure. Detective Cain had pulled his weapon out before entering the building, but now that he was in, he saw mostly rubble strewn about the open space and a few gangways along the second story windows. Steps on either side led up. He started to walk towards the one on the right, the north side of the building. That’s where the sniper was, up there.

“Stop where you are Cain.”

The voice was easily recognizable. Spencer had not gone to the other building. Turning around, he saw Spencer had a gun pointed at him. The weapon was clearly not the FBI service weapon, but something else. There was a flash suppressor on it too.

“You’re too close to being a problem. I can’t let you go any further. Drop the gun and kick it over to me.”

“You’re involved with this?” Cain let his pistol fall to the ground, kicking it about two thirds of the way to Spencer.

“There’s no need to explain myself to you. You don’t have to die but Madison does. You aren’t going to interfere with the shooter upstairs.”

“Does the FBI even know about this kidnapping?”

Spencer laughed. He had one of those grins displaying he thought he was clever.

“The call was received at the Bureau, but I managed to suppress the entire thing.”

“And the techs and the high tech monitoring van?”

“Well the idea was to have you witness his murder, not to have you trying to prevent it. They’re part of my special team. Guys I work with on the side for a little bit of juice. A touch of the green.”

“All for a little money?”

“All for a lot of money. Where’s your backup piece?”

Dammit thought Cain.

“Right ankle.”

“Slowly, take it out and kick it over here too.”

Cain knelt down slowly on his left knee. He pulled the cuff up on his pants so Spencer could clearly see the revolver strapped to his ankle. Snap, he unbuckled the leather strap that held it in. With two fingers he drew it out by the handle, putting it on the floor. Slowly, with both hands open palm towards Spencer he stood up.

There was a loud but dull crunch sound.

“I’m stuck with desk duty and you can’t help but get in trouble,” said Shaw standing over the crumpled body of Spencer before him.

“No time,” was the response.

Cain scrambled for his guns, tucking the backup in a pocket but holding his regulation weapon in his right hand. “Get him hooked up and check for keys so he can’t get loose. There’s another sniper in the building to the north of the jetty. I don’t know that we can get them both on time.”

As Shaw bent down to search Spencer for keys and other weapons, Cain leapt up the stairs two at a time to get to at least this sniper. He ran along the gangway fast as he could and started shouting “Police, freeze.” An instant later he realized the SWAT sniper was out cold.

Ben was sweating from the effort but had found parrying the strokes from Georgiy was far less energy consuming. He’d been able to put more effort into seeking out any cracks or seams in the other man’s defensive wall. The Russian’s wall had already drawn back a bit to avoid the tendrils and fine threads of thought he had trying to push into him.

Being aware of the mental assault clearly was making it difficult for either man. Georgiy was sweating profusely by now and no longer bothering with the binoculars. He’d drawn his pistol but what he really wanted was for Madison to get into the kill zone from the mines.

Ginny had spotted the knife in the pigeon hole shelf. It took a lot of twisting to get her hands close to it and she really couldn’t get a grip on the handle. It kept sliding deeper in the slot making it harder for her to reach. She kept trying.

After the effort had frustrated her enough, she grabbed hold of the charts in the slot and tried to use them to sweep the knife out of the pigeon hole. In a couple tries it finally dropped to the floor. Being bound up made it hard to position herself to pick it up off the floor, but that had to be less of a struggle than the pigeon hole had been.

When he’d finished with binding up Spencer in a pair of cuffs to a three inch thick pipe, and removing everything including his phone from the man’s pockets, Shaw looked up to see Cain. Cain had shouted but then appeared to have holstered his weapon.

He walked to the nearby dirt covered window and wiped a clear spot to see through. Across the jetty was another building to the north. Where did Cain think another sniper would be in there? Looking at the jetty he saw that Ben had made it about fifteen yards and was ever so slowly moving forward. Maybe he had time to go to the other building.

He walked out the door doing everything to look as though he wasn’t in a hurry. Just another man walking along the pavement. Not interested in anyone’s business. He didn’t look up at the building or out at the jetty. If anything he looked only at the cars.

He noticed the FBI van as he walked at the unpleasantly leisure paste towards the other building. He didn’t have time for those guys. Not if there really was a sniper up there.

Every heartbeat seemed like a struggle now. Ben didn’t care. Even if he somehow lost this, he had to keep trying. It was his fault so it was his job. He was dead set on …

It seemed like Georgiy had doubled his efforts. The effort to parry the onslaught away from him required faster and faster reactions. He almost stopped walking but the closer he got the more it seemed he might break through the other man’s seemingly shrinking defense. He wondered briefly if he was sending lance like probes if it would crack the wall, but he doubted it. By now his opponent had to grasp some concept of how he was parrying his bold strokes. The effort to squirm through the edges of his mental wall was showing slow but steady progress. All he needed was to improve his proximity.

Ben almost took a knee from the effort of both the mental battle and walking. If he’d had a millisecond to think about it, he might be worried about one of the snipers waking up.

By now Georgiy was unaware of his physical surroundings. All he was had become embroiled in this mental melee. The only exception was the little piece he was saving for Ben entering the kill zone.

Inch by inch it seemed Ben was coming close to the part of the jetty that would ensure him being at least wounded if not killed. So Georgiy kept himself focused as much as he could afford, to see the moment he could trigger them.

Once her hands had been cut free, it was just a simple matter of cutting the ropes binding her feet. Her Sir was coming for her and she was going to greet him properly.

Shaw found the sniper. Just as sound asleep as though someone had cold-cocked him. Next order of business was the FBI van. He cuffed the sniper and moved the weapons he had well out of reach. Along with the contents of his pockets. Then he started the trip back towards the street.

Ben had an epiphany.

Sure, most of those moments of brilliant insights failed to happen in the moment you most need them. This one did. His frantic desire to free Ginny brought out a memory from Saturday that hadn’t fully registered. The woman with the dart gun wasn’t there. Not as in she was physically not present, but he’d never detected her. He hadn’t seen her with his eyes until she shot him with the dart, but also he hadn’t seen her with his mind. Even while she was in plain sight.

All he had to do was to not be here. Inside he decided to be invisible, to mentally vanish. He didn’t stop probing the Russian, but his defense ceased to consume his energies. He just was. Not. Here.

Georgiy staggered. He was still being pounded mentally. Even more than before if that made the least amount of sense. The last time he’d had any problem with another telepath was with the Wizard. It wasn’t like that though. His probes, attacks, tendrils launched towards Madison found no traction. There was no target. He couldn’t find him at all. It was as if the other telepath had simply disappeared.

At least he was making progress towards the target area. Georgiy figured, if he could just hold out until then, it would all be just fine.

Until everything suddenly went black.

Standing on the deck where he’d been, Ginny held the thick wooden post like object, about two feet long, in her hands. Admittedly, she thought it much nicer that he was asleep now rather than her.

She grinned seeing her Sir out on the jetty.

In less time than it took for Ginny to smile at him, he’d slipped controls into Georgiy to shut him down. The man would eventually wake up. Answering to Ben instead of this wizard character.

He paled a bit when he found the thoughts about the claymore mines.

Cain slipped up to the driver side window of the FBI van.

“Hands where I can see them.” The driver was stunned. Hands raised he looked at the detective.

“Hey, I’m FBI. You’re making a big mistake.”

Cain smiled. “Test me and we’ll see who is making the mistake.”

He stepped back. “Get out here and put your hands against the side of the truck.”

The two techs heard the shout from Cain. They both drew weapons and opened the rear doors.

“That’s far enough. Drop the weapons,” came Shaw’s voice. “I’m done playing sap for you guys.”

About a mile away in an old yellow cab, the man let out a breath he’d held for a while.

“Back to Manhattan. 102nd and Broadway if you please.”

The driver nodded and started them back from Brooklyn. None of this seemed the least unusual to the hack driver.

It was a little bit of a struggle. Ginny was anything but helpless. With a little bit of self orienting she worked out how to steer the boat. She managed to turn the engine on, move forward, point it to the side of the jetty.

When the boat got close enough for Ben to grab the rail, she tossed him a rope. It took him a few minutes to find something to tie it off to that was unlikely to be pulled along with the boat. Once he had it tied up well enough, he helped her step off to the rocks making up shore line where they were.

“Master...” he simply shut her up by kissing her. She felt she looked like a total mess at the moment. Hair all frazzled, unwashed, smelling of urine from having peed herself. He clearly didn’t care. All he was going to do was hold her and kiss her a couple minutes. She relished it.

“You were amazing pet. Just amazing.”

She giggled. “Can we go home now?”

“Well, almost, but there’s some loose ends to clean up.”

Georgiy stood up with all the wherewithal of a zombie, unfocused eyes, head rigid in place.

“I have to fix him for one thing. I can’t let him walk around with telepathic powers.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. So, I have to root around in his head a bit and excise the part that lets him control others mentally.”

“Why couldn’t he have controlled me?”

“Because I fixed your mind in a way that kept him from being able to touch it.”

She giggled again. “I belong to you.”

“Yeah. You’re mine.”

Ginny was sitting against the detective’s car. Cain and Shaw were standing with Ben. As for Ben, he felt significantly reassured after getting Ginny back.

“I’ll get the snipers safely back to where they rightly belong,” Ben said. “They never had any control over what they were doing.”

“I’m still not up to snuff entirely on what this telepathy thing lets you do,” Shaw said.

“This guy,” he jerked a thumb towards Georgiy, “was a telepath up to about fifteen minutes ago.”

Georgiy looked alert now but appeared to be completely disinterested in anything going on.

“He was a pretty strong one too, if I understand it correctly. Your FBI guys, they were just corrupt but I suspect someone in their office above them is reporting to whoever the ringleader is.”

“So what are we going to do with them then?”

“Well, I’ve fixed it so they think this entire kidnapping thing was their idea and we caught them out here with Ginny. You can bust them for kidnapping and start looking into their finances. I bet you find a lot more to charge them with than kidnapping. From what I get, the ringleader had someone tip them off to this so they could look after his interests. Who knows which people have been compromised? The same with one of the cops in the twenty-sixth precinct.”

“What are we going to do about him?,” Cain nodded his head in the direction of the Russian.

“This Russian guy? I’m not sure what to do. Ginny gave him one hell of a conk on the noggin with a belaying pin. He’s probably got brain damage, I imagine. I did erased his ability to ever be telepathic again. Apparently he was a pretty nasty dude.”

“Typical Russian mafia sort?”

“No, not quite. But he’s committed a long string of murders. Oh, and it might make you feel a little better Shaw, he knew the woman you shot on Saturday. She was one of them.”

“Another telepath? Why’d she let us shoot her then?”

“I think you caught her totally off guard just being there.”

“Can you make it so he thinks he was just another part of the plan with the guys who betrayed the FBI?”

“Um. I guess. And leave a memory of having worked with the woman? I’m sure they’ll trace her eventually by the way. She too had a string of murders in her wake.”

“Yes. That’d be ideal. That way an outside influence on the G-men corrupted them and it didn’t come from within. I think that would be easier on their Director, not to mention the field office here.”

“So. Control?,” Shaw looked over at Ginny by his car. Clearly the rape argument was going through his head.

“I’m not going to mess with you or detective Cain if that’s what’s worrying you.”

“No, I was thinking about your girlfriends.”

“Yes, I’m sure you are. Talk about it with Cain. He has dibs on shooting me first. Meanwhile the ringleader is still out there. Somewhere. You should call this in, almost everything is done though Frankenstein here should probably be put in handcuffs.”

Shaw pulled Georgiy’s hands behind his back and guided him to sit by the wall with their other four prisoners. He was still shaking his head.

“How is it you didn’t spot the pickpocket that dropped the phone in your pocket? All you had to do was read their mind.”

“I was looking for people who had been altered. They weren’t. They were paid to slip me the phone. You do know, don’t you, no one picked the two people up outside Grand Central, right?”

“Uh,” Cain closed his eyes. “Shit. I forgot about that and was totally fooled.”

“Nothing to worry about. They were paid, not part of the group out to get me.”

There was a deep breath and a pause before Cain spoke again.

“I’m a little more convinced. I still wonder if I should just shoot you.”

“I don’t doubt you still have trouble trusting me. I have arranged for the Russian to start letting slip about some of his murders. Those will probably lead to others. Spencer was all set to plug you if it was the only way for them to have me killed.”

“Yeah, about that...”

“He apparently didn’t want to be the trigger man. His words. It seems he was happier being a last ditch backup to keep you occupied.”

Cain rubbed his beard.

“You gotta stop doing that with your beard. It’s freaky.”

The detective laughed. They could hear the sounds of distant sirens approaching.