Wallace frowned at his partner, trying to slow down Riff’s attacks on Jonas.

  Riff shrugged back at Wallace. “I’m still not convinced that one of Jonas’s bosses isn’t involved in this. Governments being what they are and all,” he added, with a hard look at Jonas.

  “I know you’ve got this problem with governments in general because of your own government,” Jonas pointed out, “and trust me that I wouldn’t have brought you in on this, except that obviously something’s happened.” He shook his head. “Typical that you would turn it around and make it sound like it was me.” And, with that, he stormed off, leaving the two men standing here, staring at each other.

  “I don’t think Amy’s disappearance has anything to do with Jonas,” Wallace noted.

  “No, unfortunately I don’t either.” Riff turned to Wallace. “Didn’t you say you had some directional kinds of abilities?”

  “Yeah, I do—to a certain extent—but nothing like we need here.”

  “What do you mean, nothing like this? She’s missing. So can’t you just pinpoint where she is?”

  “Of course not,” Wallace replied, as he groaned. “She’s been gone too long for us to track her by the energy left at the hotel. It’s dissipated already. Short of your hacking into MI6’s surveillance tapes, we’re still waiting for the CCTV cameras. I don’t understand what’s taking so long.”

  Just then Riff’s phone rang. He looked down at the screen and answered it. “Terk, what’s up?” he asked. “Did you guys get anywhere on the cameras?”

  “No, of course not.”

  Riff listened in a little bit longer and nodded. “I just braced Jonas about it, and, as far as I’m concerned, he could easily be involved in this. … Yeah, I know. I know that you don’t seem to think so. That doesn’t mean I’ll believe you just because you say so.” He groaned and listened to Terk for a moment. “I know. I know. Fine.” When he ended the call, he turned and glared at Wallace. “What would you do for MI6 if you came on board here?”

  “They were looking at me running the team,” he shared, with a shrug.

  Riff stared at him. “Does that mean you have skills equal to what Terk has?”

  “Nope, sure don’t,” he admitted. “I don’t think we even know what Terk has for skills, much less MI6, which is one of their main problems. They’re fishing for anything they can get their hands on, but I don’t know what they’re really looking for.”

  Riff snorted. “That I can believe. I can’t figure out why they didn’t go to the source in the first place. No offense.”

  “I think Terk probably turned him down, not trusting governments in general anymore.”

  At that, Riff nodded. “That would make total sense, but it still doesn’t make any sense to bring in somebody green.”

  “I didn’t say I was green,” Wallace corrected in exasperation. “I just don’t have the same level of skill that Terk does.”

  “So, what do you do?” Riff asked.

  “I’m a precog and can see … some things in the dark. Unfortunately I can’t control it.”

  “Of course not. That’s the problem with precogs. Don’t mind me, but I think they’re fairly useless.” Riff turned and headed out of the MI6 building.

  Following quickly behind, Wallace asked, “Where are you going?” And then quickly changed his question to, “Where are we going?”

  Riff glanced at him and shrugged. “Unless you’re a precog who can come up with any answers as to where Amy is, I suggest we do it the old-fashioned way.”

  Wallace followed him back to the rig. “Why is it I feel as if you’re not telling me something?”

  Riff shrugged. “I do well at finding things,” he muttered, “gathering intel. So I’ll need my laptop, which is in the rig. I’ll access some MI6 secret files myself. It would have been much more fun to use Jonas’s own equipment to infiltrate their system, but I figure I’ve pricked his ego enough today. Also, lately I’ve been a little off my game in some ways. It’s a personal problem,” he muttered. “Unfortunately we are creatures of moods and emotions, and, when things went wrong, … well, it set back a lot of my world.”

  “That’s all very cryptic.”

  They got into the loaner MI6 rig and both reached for their laptops. As Wallace opened his up, he checked for any messages, but there was none. “If MI6 isn’t playing some game themselves, … then somebody else is likely playing it for them.” He wondered about the options. “Or it could be that somebody was serious about wanting to utilize Amy’s skills, in which case they won’t know if she has any, not unless she puts them to good use. And they will likely have to force her to show them.”

  “Which makes sense,” Riff agreed, turning to look at him sideways. “But you know that it won’t be good for her.”

  “No, it won’t,” Wallace admitted grimly. “The only way they’ll force her to do something is if they put extreme pressure on her.”

  “And presumably she has a pretty high tolerance to resist their attempts.”

  “I don’t know about that, especially since she’s been very sick recently,” Wallace shared. “As in very sick. She wouldn’t give me the details, but she was obviously still under the weather slightly when she arrived here.”

  “That’s not good,” Riff said, “particularly if it’s affected her abilities.”

  “It definitely has. Terk mentioned that too this morning. Amy’s not even really sure what she can do.”

  “Which is even worse because she’ll make good testing material.”

  “Or she’ll make great testing material since she’ll be exploring what she can do herself.”

  “Right, but that’s not something any of us want her to go through with these unknown third parties involved,” Riff muttered. “Assholes like this really won’t care how things work. They’ll just want to confirm that they get the results they want when they want it.”

  “Regardless of what it does to her, I presume.”

  Riff nodded. Still sitting in their parked vehicle, but, with his laptop open, Riff pointed at Wallace’s laptop. “While I peek into MI6’s dark corners, why don’t you check the street cams again, this time for service vehicles around the hotel at 11:15 p.m. last night, or Ubers, or the like?” Wallace nodded, as Riff began his online search.

  Riff hacked into MI6’s protected files, some employment related, some ops related, some about this new psychic team. Then he jumped on the dark web, searching for Psychics Wanted ads and such. He even telepathically asked Terk if he had heard rumblings of anybody wanting psychics really badly. Even that ended in a dead end for the moment.

  An hour later Riff sat back in frustration and exclaimed, “How is that possible?”

  Wallace groaned. “You had no luck either? I didn’t see any service trucks until early this morning, like a bread delivery or whatnot. Either nothing suspicious went by the cams or the kidnappers rigged the cameras.”

  “Or,” Riff suggested, frowning at Wallace, “the kidnappers already have a team with people who can do this energy shit. Maybe some energy worker did something to the cameras or knows how to set up a camouflage.”

  “Oh no. That would be our worst nightmare, so I’m not going there.”

  Riff glared at him. “We have occasionally come across people with these kinds of abilities who operate outside of the law. … It’s never a good deal for anybody. And it doesn’t give us much to go on, if that’s what’s happened here.”

  Wallace frowned. “What if she’s still in the hotel?”

  Riff stared at him in surprise. “What do you mean?”

  “What if she didn’t leave—because we didn’t see a vehicle—and what if she’s still there somewhere? An awful lot of rooms are in hotels, and some are in places most people don’t even know about, like down in the basement or in the laundry area. Somewhere secluded, and who knows? Maybe it’s connected to those underground tunnels that Levi and his team already alerted me to,” he added. “They are sending me a tunnel map soon.”

  At that, Riff started to nod very slowly. “You could be right. A lot of service tunnels are under most of London,” he muttered. “Hell, there’s a whole city down there.”

  Wallace nodded. “Exactly. What if somebody figured it would be a whole lot easier just to keep Amy down there?”

  Riff suggested, “If they didn’t need to move her, that would be perfect. What we need then is to see where she could have gotten to, where the hotel elevator goes. Does it drop into the tunnels?”

  “Hang on a minute. I got a new email.” Wallace checked and found one from Levi’s team, attaching subterranean blueprints, plus the blueprints for the hotel building itself. A moment later he opened them and smiled. He pointed to one of them. “This hotel was built on top of an old building foundation, with tunnels running right below it all.”

  “Yeah, they always do that here,” Riff noted. “As long as it’s structurally sound, they just bring down the old building and put the new building on top of the existing foundation. It’s too much work to dig it up, especially if they should be unlucky enough to hit an old burial site or something. That puts a halt to construction for a long time. So they often just go down as far as they need to and build back up again.”

  Wallace looked over the blueprints and nodded slowly. “Plus, they avoid damaging the tunnels not too far below all that. I see sewer connections nearby Amy’s hotel too.”

  Riff smiled. “So, it looks as if we’re going sewer hunting.” He looked over at him. “We’ll need some gear.”

  Wallace looked up a store nearby that would give them headlamps, flashlights, and better footwear. By the time they were decked out and heading underground toward the location they had chosen, Wallace noted that four hours had gone by. “That took way too long,” he fretted.

  “But we’re now geared up and on our way,” Riff stated.

  Wallace muttered, “Ask Terk to send out a telepathic message to Amy, if he can. Or you do it. I can’t seem to reach her. Tell Amy that we’re on the way, and we’ll get there as soon as we can.” With that, Wallace still sent off his own message mentally, still hoping that maybe the energy field, that sense of communication coming, would open up her senses and would give her some reassurance that help was on the way.

  Accessing the sewer system where they wouldn’t be noticed, Wallace and Riff navigated their way toward their target location and soon came up into some of the big service tunnels underneath the hotel. With their flashlights and headlamps on, Wallace realized that this underground ecosystem was not only big enough to house a massive hotel itself but, at this moment, it seemed big enough to house half the city. He stared at Riff. “It’s bigger than I imagined down here. How will we ever find her?”

  Riff grinned. “Hopefully down here I’ll do more of my specialty. Follow me.”

  And Riff led the way deeper into the tunnels.

  Chapter 2

  Amy woke, stood up slowly, and walked around, flapping her arms against the chill. She had no idea where she was, but, so far, the group had been friendly, coming in and out at regular intervals, bringing her food, tea, coffee, blankets, and seemingly whatever she needed. What she wasn’t getting was answers or a visit from the people who were supposedly on their way to explain why she was here.

  That part, above all else, really bothered her because now she was wondering whether anybody at all was coming or this was something completely different than all the scenarios going through her head. But, hey, she was prepared to do whatever she needed to do to get the hell out of here. When the door opened again, the same guard walked in, holding a cup of coffee.

  He noted in an undertone, “Sorry it’s so cold in here. We’re having problems with the heat.”

  She nodded. “It’s definitely cold, and it’s clammy,” she added, “as if we’re underground. No windows are here.”

  “No, not in this room,” he replied. “Something to do with the way the bylaws were written, with only so many bedrooms allowed. Since a room can’t be called a bedroom unless it’s got a window in it, building rooms without windows became a popular way to get around the rule.”

  It seemed to be a complete BS story to her, but, then again, when it came to city codes, she didn’t know much. She just nodded and accepted the cup. “How much longer?” she asked.

  “Hopefully, not very long at all,” he stated cheerfully, and, with that, he turned and walked back out.

  She stared at the door suspiciously, wondering if she really was a prisoner. They hadn’t come outright and said she was, but it had been implied from the start. She sipped her coffee as she stared at the door. If this was a test, she was certain she’d failed, and that was good. She didn’t want anything to do with a group that would do this to her. Whatever was going on here was just wrong. She figured, at some point, either they were afraid she would figure it out herself or they were waiting for her to use her energy skills.

  That’s the part that really worried her. She wasn’t exactly sure what she could do. She hadn’t lied when she had told Terk that everything was changing, since everything had changed. Plus, if she were underground—as she suspected she was—she was surrounded by thick concrete walls, which definitely hindered telepathy and other energy skills. Her abilities, which had always been similar to a locator, wouldn’t help if she were the lost one.

  As she considered her guard’s words, she realized he hadn’t specifically denied that they were underground. He hadn’t really told her anything. As a matter of fact, once she thought about it, she realized his answers had been more evasive than anything else.

  Frowning at that, she walked over to the door and turned the knob. The knob turned under her hand, but the door didn’t budge when she went to pull on it. She stepped back and glared at the door. “That answers that question.” She stared at the room around her. “Can’t say I appreciate being a prisoner.”

  Knowing that they were probably listening in and laughing at her, she walked back over and sat down on the bed, pulling her knees up against her chest, wondering just what the hell was going on. She thought she heard a whisper, something subtle and faint, but something was definitely there. She closed her eyes and called out to the ethers. She couldn’t quite grasp who or what it was.

  She called out for Terk, and he came online immediately. The reception was staticky, clarity coming in and out.

  We have people looking for you, he told her. Have you learned anything useful? Anything about these people?

  No, just that they’re still waiting for someone, and I am still a prisoner.

  You know for sure you’re a prisoner? he asked, his tone sharp.

  At least that was her interpretation of the fading energy. Yes, I tried to open the door but no luck.

  That’s what we expected anyway, he replied.

  Yeah, maybe you did, but I didn’t, she snapped. I was still thinking that this was some test, whether MI6 or private.

  I’m not sure it isn’t, he noted. It could very well be that they’re checking to see if you do have any abilities and what it’ll take for you to use them to get out of there.

  Which is BS, she snapped. No way I would use my abilities in this situation.

  Why not? he asked curiously.

  Because, if they found out, if they got any confirmation that I am an energy worker, then, chances are, … they would never let me go.

  Terk agreed. That’s a good point, and I’m glad you realize it. They probably won’t release you anyway.

  She sucked back her breath. You didn’t have to say that.

  Right, and yet I don’t really believe in couching the truth. You and I both know that this is a serious scenario, and we’re doing everything we can to find you, but that doesn’t mean it’ll happen soon enough.

  She winced, trying to keep her expression calm in case she was being watched. She didn’t want anyone to know what she was doing in her head. If they’re expecting me to do something, but I’m not, do you think they’ll up the ante?

  A long moment of silence came from Terk, and then he whispered, I’m afraid so.

  When would that likely happen? she asked, striving for calm, but inside she felt the chills rattling through her soul.

  I don’t know how long they’ll give you. That’ll be up to them. Chances are, they won’t have too much patience. Someone has told them that you can do something, and they’ll be all over finding out what that is, how you do it, and what triggers are effective, he shared in a sympathetic tone. Unfortunately the process of getting to those answers, or the methods they are likely to utilize to get you to show them, won’t be fun. Giving her these nuggets of wisdom, he was gone.

  She sat here pondering what he’d shared, when the door opened again, and the man she’d seen earlier stepped inside and glaring at her. She looked at him blandly. “Hi. Back again so soon? Did you find whoever is waiting to see me?”

  He shook his head, looked around the room, then crossed his arms and leaned against the wall.

  “Problem?” she asked curiously.

  “You seem to be relatively calm.”

  “I wouldn’t say calm,” she clarified. “It does appear that I’m your prisoner, which isn’t something that’ll make anybody happy.”

  He smirked. “You tried the door, did you?”

  “You know I did,” she stated. “Obviously you’re watching me, though I’m not sure how or why, but it’s pretty gross. But, hey, apparently you guys are into that stuff.”

  Immediately the smile fell off his face, but he continued to glare at her. “Don’t even start with me on that shit,” he spat. “That’s not who we are.”

  “How do I know? You haven’t told me who you are, what you are, or anything else,” she declared. “So you can say anything you want, and it won’t mean shit to me. I’m working off your actions, not your words.”

  He stared at her and turned around to walk away.

  “You could just tell me what this is all about,” she added, striving for a conversational voice. But seeing the smirk on his face, she realized she’d failed. Even though it was the hardest thing to do, she shrugged. “Whatever.” And, with that, she leaned against the wall and relaxed on the bed.