CHAPTER 1

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Of DARK GENESIS by Jack Alucard
Available from http://www.lulu.com/content/2599258
(c) Jack Alucard

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January 26th

Mary’s soul was shattering again under the onslaught of pain felt by another’s death. But this was far worse than the usual anguish. This was not the agony of one tormented soul seeking the escape from their life of hell to whatever lay beyond. Not the crimson wave that washed over her as the soul finally flew free. This was an overwhelming tide of blood, drowning her and seeking to drag her sanity into its scarlet depths.

Shocked into lucidity by this pain worse than anything she had ever felt, Mary woke screaming. Her eyes shone with a light that would have seen her burned as a witch in days gone by, but then so would her psychic abilities. Glancing around frantically she tried to focus on the source of her pain. Explosions and gunfire! She heard the screams and pain of death unasked for, a slaughter of the innocent. Suffer the children, she thought, as her sanity teetered on the edge of a chasm, and fell.

Mary’s fragmented consciousness failed to register the chaos spreading outwards from her. Pillows flew off her bed and hit the walls, driven by her uncontrolled telekinesis as it sought victims. The green LCD display of the clock embedded in the wall shattered and sent shards of Perspex through the room. Physical pain brought her survival instincts back to the surface, just in time to hear the footsteps from the hall outside.

***

‘Christ it’s a war zone down there!’

‘Get us down there now!’ Cutter was in no mood for shocked pilots, driven by motives he wouldn’t share with anyone, even Joe. As the helicopter hovered above the burning ruins of the country house, Cutter and his team abseiled down the ropes and ran into the carnage. Cutter noted the burning wrecks of the three enemy helicopters dispatched by the army gunships he had seconded, and the bodies of a number of enemy troops strewn about the lawns.

‘Blue team secure the perimeter, red team on me.’

As he spoke Cutter fired a short burst from his Ingrams, dropping the two men who had burst through the wrecked doors in front of them. Scanning the ground floor he detected only one life sign. Recognising the signature as the director of the institute he sent one of his men to get her out to safety. The absence of psychic static told him the inhibitors had gone down with the generators when the attack started.

‘Hostiles are below ground, stay sharp. Joe stay on me. Standard hostage recovery procedure. Recover at least one hostile for interrogation, all others to be terminated.’

***

Mary’s nerves were shredded further by a woman’s scream as the door erupted inwards. In her disorientated state she failed to realise it was coming from her own lips. She stared in horror at the shadowy black-clad figure in the doorway pointing a gun at her. A male voice saying ‘Primary target located’ as her survival instincts kicked in, her wild telekinesis focusing on this threat and hurling him backwards into the hallway. A second black shadow followed him into the doorway and was hurled into the hall on top of his colleague.

Seconds later another dark figure rushed into the room, spraying bullets from his submachine gun. He received the same treatment, being hurled into the nearest wall with a sickening thud and collapsing in a heap on the floor. A streak of blood stained the white wall behind him, evidence of his imminent death. Mary started whimpering and curled into a ball on the floor in the centre of the room.

Through tearful eyes Mary registered another figure in the doorway, aiming his gun at her. As she looked up pitifully, his head exploded in a burst of red and grey, and his lifeless form collapsed forward like a falling tree. A huge dark figure, face masked, rushed into the room.

‘She’s still alive and unharmed, Red Two cover my path.’

A deep male voice as the figure reached down and threw her unresisting over his shoulder.

‘She’s going into shock, I’m putting her out.’

Mary felt the touch of an immensely strong telepath brushing her mind, and then blackness.

‘Red Leader these two are alive.’

‘Okay Red two, we’ll take them in for interrogation.’

Voices came from his headset confirming the area was secured and all other hostiles terminated. Switching the frequency on the microphone, he made the essential call.

‘All hostiles terminated, bar two we have for questioning. Everyone in Redfields is dead apart from Sarah Cartwright and Mary Davis.’

‘Confirmed Red Leader. Bring them in.’ The calm aristocratic voice of General Sir Peter Rawlins, his commander, filled his ears.

‘Roger that, ETA fifty mikes.’

Switching back to his original frequency, Cutter made the necessary arrangements.

‘Blue team maintain position and hold location for the cleaners. Red team return to FRV for extraction in two mikes.’

***

Four hours later, debriefing over, Cutter sat in one of Peter’s antique leather chairs with a brandy glass in his right hand.

‘Well done Cutter, you made the best of a bad situation there.’

‘Thank you sir, it was a mess.’

General Sir Peter Rawlins looked appraisingly at Cutter as they shared his vintage brandy. He was an imposing figure, standing several inches over six foot with a Herculean physique. His attractive dark features and cobalt blue eyes were framed by thick dark hair closely cropped to his skull. Four very faint parallel scars marked his right cheek. As his most successful and deadly operative, Cutter had a freer hand than almost anyone else within Peter’s clandestine organisation.

Cutter returned his gaze, looking at the slender figure of his boss, his black hair peppered with silver streaks and a slender moustache on his top lip, looking every inch the senior officer and gentleman he was.

‘No complications?’

‘Just the fact that Sarah Cartwright being unharmed stinks, and that the security breach cost us almost all of the potential psi talent we have. She must be working for Majestic, nobody else could have inserted teams in southern England so quickly.’

‘Cutter I watched in on your debriefing and heard your comments. Apart from your personal dislike of the woman, we have no proof she was involved in the attack. I agree the circumstances are suspicious, but the powers that be think very highly of her. You’ll need more concrete proof to get her dealt with.’

‘I’ll see what I can do.’

‘No vendettas Cutter, we don’t have the time for them.’

‘Understood sir.’

‘What about Mary Davis?’

‘Where does she come from, that girl must be around P15. Certainly not Redfields material.’

‘I’m looking into that Cutter, I’m as puzzled as you about her. On to more pleasant matters, my wife asked if you would join us for the opening of the new opera a week on Saturday. She always feels safer going out with you on hand as our cover.’

‘I’d be delighted sir. I’ll bring Mandy as usual if I may.’

Peter nodded his agreement. The honeypot in question, apart from being well-versed in bodyguarding, was also blue-blooded and thus the most appropriate choice for the task.

‘With your permission sir, I’d like to go and check on Mary and see how she’s doing.’

‘Taking a personal interest in this one Cutter?’

‘She’s a talented psi sir, they always interest me.’

‘Unfortunately that’s impossible, Cutter, she’s already been moved to a safe location for testing and assimilation. She has to go through basic training before she’ll be ready for your game.’

‘Understood sir.’

‘Fine, dismissed then. I’ll keep you up to date on anything relevant we learn from the prisoners.’

‘Thank you, sir.’ Cutter stood and made his way from Peter’s office towards his room.

After Cutter’s departure Peter made a call to his chief researcher, instructing her to let him know if any of the precogs came up with any visions concerning Cutter and Mary Davis as a matter of priority. Cutter might be a respected friend, but nothing interfered with his plans. Sitting back in his chair he sipped his brandy and pondered the twists and turns of fate.

***

Half an hour later Peter’s gaze was split between the medical report in his hands and the view through the two-way mirror of Mary’s unconscious figure restrained on the bed. Despite what he had told Cutter, Mary was still in the ICU wing of the installation.

‘Give me a brief summary of the key points.’

The doctor looked up at him and began in brisk professional tones. Her usual bored and superior tone had disappeared the moment she saw Peter.

‘Mary Elizabeth Davis. Aged 17. Psychic rating P15. Suffering from severe shock and trauma. Minor scratches and bruising. Blood type AB with rare antibodies. The same as Cutter and Joe in fact.’ She gave him a curious look that spoke of the desire to put things under microscopes and analyse them, to find the answers to conundrums as yet unsolved. She continued speaking.

‘Maybe it’s a psi thing. Scarring on wrists consistent with attempted suicides, approximately two years ago. System shows traces of Prozac and telepathine-17, no needle marks so obviously given orally.

Shall I continue?’

‘No that’s enough, thank you doctor.’

Peter stared at the beautiful young girl, looking childishly innocent with her dark hair and almost porcelain white skin, as she lay unconscious. A P15, when Redfields was supposed to only deal with psychics up to P8. He needed answers to a lot of questions, and he suspected he wouldn’t like them.

***

January 27th

Mary awoke from drug-induced sleep and tried to study her surroundings. Restraints around her arms, legs, body and neck prevented her from moving. In the haze induced by painkillers and tranquillizers she tried to focus her mind. She remembered gunfire and explosions, or had it been a dream? Had she had another breakdown and tried to kill herself again? In her confused state no other solution to the restraints presented itself.

Examining the evidence she tried to assess her situation. She seemed to be wearing a medical gown, which suggested the ICU, but she felt no pain in her wrists, so she hadn’t tried to kill herself. The lighting wasn’t the harsh strip lighting she was used to at Redfields; it was a muted radiance from side lamps that illuminated pale blue walls. No, this definitely didn’t feel like Redfields.

Trying harder to gather her thoughts, she remembered figures in black. Then memories of her psi going wild and things flying around the room came back to her. Had something happened to her psi, causing them to lock her away somewhere to study like a lab rat? An image from her memory burned itself onto her consciousness. She remembered a black-clad figure firing a gun at her, and her telekinesis throwing him into the wall. The image of the red smear of blood from his smashed skull filled her awareness, and tears started to pour from her eyes. She had killed someone. She had ended a human life! Mary’s mind rebelled at this thought and her body shuddered. She felt her consciousness disappearing into a red fog. Her mind had retreated into itself away from the pain and suffering of the world she lived in.

***

January 28th

The sounds of activity and conversation woke Mary from her disturbed sleep. She kept her eyes shut to try and get an impression of what was going on without giving anything away.

‘Hello Mary, I know you’re awake, your ECG just changed. I’m Dr Belinsky.’

Mary opened her eyes, there was no point in pretending now she had been caught out. She saw a petite, hard-faced woman in her thirties looking her over with professional detachment. Trying to scan her and the area gave nothing but grey static.

‘Hello doctor. Am I going mad?’

‘Mad, no. Suffering from severe shock and trauma; yes. You had a very bad experience and were brought here to deal with it.’

‘Will you take the restraints off me?’

‘Not yet, I need to ascertain that you won’t try any self-injurious behaviour before we do that.’

‘Will I go back to Redfields soon?’

‘No Mary, you won’t be going back to Redfields ever. This is your home for now.’

‘What, a bed in a hospital?’

‘This is just a small part of this facility. You’ll see more of it when you’ve recovered. Just concentrate on getting better and I’ll do my best to get you out of here as soon as possible.’

Mary found the doctor’s brisk professionalism refreshing. She wasn’t being treated as a helpless child like she was at Redfields. Best to play along and show willing, she decided.

‘Thank you doctor.’

Dr Belinsky’s tight lips curled at the corners in a small smile.

‘You’re welcome Mary. I’ll drop by again in a few hours. I’m going to give you another sedative. At the moment the best thing your body can do is rest and heal itself.’

With this she pushed the plunger on the hypodermic she had at Mary’s arm.

***

January 29th

‘What’s your assessment of the situation Peter?’

A small figure in a charcoal grey suit spoke out of the videophone at Peter Rawlins.

‘Something about the massacre at Redfields has bothered Cutter sir. I’ve known him for ten years, and he has never requested leave after an op. I’m concerned he might go on a vendetta against Sarah Cartwright. If he hadn’t put in a request to go to Japan I would have said he was planning on digging for dirt.’

‘Let him go. Unless there are any ops coming up that require his special talents?’

Peter smiled to himself. His superior would be more aware of that than he would. Still he appreciated the courtesy of pretence implicit in the words.

‘No sir.’

‘Then approve it but keep him on standby. How about Mary Davis?’

‘The infra red footage clearly showed extreme telekinetic ability. Not only did she throw grown men around, she also seems to have deflected bullets!’

‘Yes that was quite extraordinary; she could be a valuable asset if she can be assimilated into the organisation.’

‘As I reported Cutter seems extremely interested, but that might be because she’s a P15. He’s still keen to create a psi team and he may be planning ahead.’

‘Ah yes; the Dark Angels project. The PM has given the go ahead on that one, but I still want Cutter available at all times for long range terminations. Unless we have anyone else coming through who can match him?’

‘No sir, I’m afraid not. His kill record is exemplary.’

‘Keep him sweet Peter, and I’ll keep you informed on anything relevant in the corridors of power.’

‘Thank you sir, out.’

Peter turned off the video link, returned to his contemplation and signed the holiday form in front of him.

***

In the bar Mandy was talking to her closest friend, Gretchen. The contrast in the two women was striking. Where Mandy was tall, elegant and sensual, Gretchen was shorter and oozed raw sex appeal. Mandy had been to all the finest schools, Gretchen on the other hand had come from the streets. They shared certain common interests though, including sex and more specifically Cutter. Both were very competent honeypots, specialising in sexual entrapment.

‘I tell you G, something happened on that last op. Cutter won’t say anything, but something is bothering him.’

‘Ask him Mandy.’

‘It’s not that simple darling. He’s gone on leave for a couple of days, and anyway, would you ask Cutter a question like that?’

I take your point. Still no point in worrying about it, let’s go and have some fun eh?’

***

The water running down the plughole was stained red. Mary looked down at her wrists and saw the blood dripping down. But she was on a bed in this unknown facility, how could this be? With this realisation came the jolt to lucidity that often characterised her dream life. So was this a memory or a precog, or something else?

She examined her body in the dream, it looked the same. She studied the walls, white tiles. Cursing her stupidity she looked at her wrists again and willed the cuts to heal. That was better! Pulling back the shower curtain she continued to explore the dream landscape. The rest of the bathroom was of no particular interest, so she moved into the bedroom. It contained a single bed, a television and a wardrobe. She turned back to the mirror as a shiver ran down her spine.

‘Those who do not learn from the past are condemned to repeat it.’

She recognised the words written on the mirror in red lipstick, but their significance at the moment eluded her. Moving towards to the mirror to look more closely, it suddenly shattered, showering her in silvered glass fragments. As the glass punctured her skin she started, and jolted herself back awake.

‘You’re looking much better today Mary, if a trifle pale. Bad dreams?’

‘No doctor.’ Lies had become a way of life to Mary at Redfields.

‘We should have you out of here tomorrow if upstairs agree with my assessment. No sense in keeping you lying here when you could be moving forwards, is there?’

Not sure how to take this statement, Mary nodded her assent.

‘I know what will make you feel better, lay still.’ As she spoke Dr Belinsky untied the restraints on Mary’s limbs.

‘Lean on me Mary, don’t try and stand unaided.’

Mary had learned a long time ago that it was better to agree and go along with people in power over her, to seem compliant. The carrot was always preferable to the stick, life was easier that way. Raising her right arm, she smiled at the doctor encouragingly, trying to send a feeling of appreciation and camaraderie.

‘I shouldn’t do this with you, but I know I’d be going nuts by now tied up like that.’

Mary could not decide if the doctor was very clever or genuinely caring. She wanted to think the latter, but always preferred to err on the side of caution. Still honey rather than vinegar, she decided.

‘I appreciate this doctor, really.’

‘Just a few steps around the bed, you’ve still got those sedatives running through your system. No point in overdoing it eh?’

***

February 1st

By the end of the day Mary was still not convinced about her status. She felt like a prisoner in her new room. A ten foot square box containing a bed, a television, an empty wardrobe and a small en-suite bathroom. A realisation was dawning on her, about the nature of the psi inhibitors that had been around her through her life.

On returning from the medical Mary had found a pile of loose fitting clothes. Stripping off the hospital gown she pulled on a pair of tracksuit bottoms and a t-shirt. Feeling a bit more human, she threw the pile of clothes into the bottom of the wardrobe, and jumped onto the bed. Glancing around for a remote, she saw there wasn’t one. Grumbling she walked over to the television and turned it on. She flipped through the channels, pushing the button quickly, until she found News 24. What she wanted most of all now was to have an idea of what was going on. If nobody was going to tell her about her world, she could at least look at the picture in the global community outside these walls.

After an hour of watching television a short pretty brunette nurse came in with a glass of water and pills for her to take.

‘I don’t want more sedatives,’ pouted Mary.

‘It’s for your own benefit; your body still needs to recover from the shock you experienced.’

The nurse stood with her arms folded, tapping her foot. Mary popped the pills into her mouth and took a swallow of water.

‘Satisfied?’ she asked.

‘I will be when you take the pills out from under your tongue and actually swallow them,’ replied the nurse.

Mary swore. That trick had usually worked when she used it at Redfields. This nurse was in a different category to the ones she was used to though. She had a look of quiet confidence and determination, and an aura of calm about her that made Mary feel relaxed.

Cutting through the clouds that started to drift in her mind she asked, ‘What’s your name?’

‘Gretchen. You’ll be seeing more of me in the weeks to come, but for now rest and take it easy. Doctor’s orders.’

Mary lay back on the bed, sleep already drawing her in. With a smile Gretchen pulled the covers over her, turning off the light as she left the room.

***

February 2nd

Within minutes of waking in the morning, Mary had company. She had changed into a fresh t-shirt and bottoms after showering, and was just wondering how she could get out of this locked room when the door opened and Gretchen entered.

‘Good morning Mary, time for a light breakfast and then it’s time for you to start your sessions.’

‘What sort of sessions?’ queried Mary suspiciously.

‘You’ll see soon enough.’

Gretchen led her down the corridor and into a dining room that was laid out for all tastes. The room was empty of people, so Mary grabbed a tray and started stocking it from the large table by the nearest wall, piling on orange juice, cereals and toast.

‘No coffee?’ she enquired.

‘No caffeine, but you might want some yoghurt, its good for your digestion,’ suggested Gretchen.

Mary added a pot of yoghurt to her tray and sat down at the table. Gretchen sat opposite her patiently.

‘Aren’t you joining me Gretchen?’

‘I ate hours ago Mary thanks.’

As was her habit Mary ate quickly, pausing between each different item of food.

‘Finished?’ Gretchen asked politely.

‘Yes thanks.’

‘Ok, time to meet Dr Steiner.’

‘His first name isn’t Rudolf is it?’ grinned Mary.

‘He is a she Mary, and she’s used to that joke,’ laughed Gretchen.

***

Dr Steiner was a tall and scary looking blonde amazon of a woman. Mary did not feel in the slightest inclined to try and joke with her, and suspected this was likely to be an ordeal she would not enjoy.

‘Hello Mary,’ began Dr Steiner.

‘Hello doctor,’ returned Mary.

‘I’m here to run some tests and talk to you about your experiences. You’ve been through a very traumatic situation and experience has shown these events need to be worked through to avoid leaving emotional scars. I know a lot of people feel uncomfortable about talking to psychiatrists, but it’s not a reflection on you in any way.’

Mary nodded.

‘Let’s start with some simple image association. I’ll show you some pictures, and you say the first thing that comes into your head, ok.’

The doctor pulled a pile of white cards from her case and placed them face down on her lap in front of her. She selected the first one and held it up. Mary realised she was going to be shown inkblot images and analysed on her responses.

The first image looked like a dying bird to Mary.

‘Dying dove.’

‘Ok next one,’ the doctor put the first card down and selected another.

‘Syringe.’

The sequence of cards went on.

‘Crown of thorns.’

‘Butterfly.’

‘Tree.’

‘Lightning flash.’

‘Tornado.’

‘Alien.’

The doctor raised her eyebrows slightly at this remark. After working through the rest of the cards she moved onto the next stage of the assessment.

‘Mary, we need to discuss the events around the destruction of Redfields. Do you feel ready to talk about them?’

‘Yes doctor,’ agreed Mary, realising there was no point in delaying the inevitable.

‘Can you tell me what happened?’

‘I was woken from sleep by a feeling of death and pain.’

‘Has this ever happened before?’

‘Yes, when someone committed suicide at Redfields, but then it usually didn’t wake me, it just manifested in my dreams. The extreme psychic distress jarred me awake. Then I heard the gunfire and explosions and realised something was happening.

‘What happened next?’

‘My TK went wild and the clock broke. Then all hell broke loose.’

‘What else can you can remember from that night?’

‘I remember feeling strong, stronger than before, when my psi was going wild. Since then I have realised there must have been some sort of inhibitor there, as I am picking up far more now than I ever did before.’

‘So I see,’ smiled the doctor. ‘Don’t bother trying to pick anything up off me though Mary, I am a natural psychic blank.’

Mary’s expression revealed her guilt.

‘Let’s go further back in time, to your training at Redfields. What would a typical day there entail for you?’

‘Get up in the morning, go for a run, have breakfast. Then classes ‘til lunch, followed by more classes in the afternoon. After dinner we had free time to develop skills or pursue hobbies.’

‘Ah yes, you were very keen on the flight simulator I see. Thousands of hours logged.’

‘Yes I love the sense of freedom it gives me being in the cockpit,’ Mary stopped abruptly, worried she was giving too much away.

‘Carry on Mary. You loved the sense of freedom. How did you feel the rest of the time?’

‘I enjoyed my runs and gymnastics classes. Some of the lessons were ok. Most of the time I felt uneasy. The kids there weren’t very good at hiding their feelings, they all hated it, it was a culture of repression.’

‘Was there anyone there you got on particularly well with Mary?’

‘No, you didn’t let people get too close, in case they died on you.’

‘How about people you didn’t get on with?’

‘Sarah Cartwright!’ The name burst out of her mouth like an expletive.

‘The director of the institute. What didn’t you like about her?’

‘She was always putting me down, looking for excuses to confine me to my room, take away my privileges. If she saw me getting on well with a teacher she would interfere and block me. She had it in for me from the start.’

Mary looked thoughtful for a moment.

‘Doctor, can I ask you a question?’

‘Go ahead Mary.’

‘Am I really a P8 like she said? After what happened the other night, I’m sure my rating must be higher than that.’

‘I can’t tell you your rating Mary, but it is in double figures.’ The doctor could see that Mary’s shaky self-confidence needed a boost, something to hold onto, to give her a feeling of self-worth and provide a core to build on. She knew her unilateral decision might get her in trouble, but she was a therapist first and foremost, and knew that Mary needed to start moving forward.

‘Let’s go back to your training Mary. What exactly did you get trained in?’

‘Do you mean psychically? I was given training in telepathy and remote viewing.’ Mary’s face lit up as she said this.

‘I see you did outstandingly in your A levels. Top marks across the board. You must have been pleased with that.’

‘I guess.’

‘Do you like puzzles Mary? From the emphasis on mathematics and logic I would have suspected you like playing such games.’

‘They’re just more hoops to jump through,’ declared Mary sullenly.

Mary’s moods swung like a pendulum, the doctor realised. It was time to try a different tack.

‘I see you speak six languages, that’s impressive.’

‘Not really, languages are like a geometric progression, the more you learn the easier it becomes.’

‘English, French, German, Greek, Italian, Spanish. They’re all European languages, why is that Mary?’

‘No reason, I just picked whichever appealed to me. Plus they started teaching us French and German when we were little. The others I decided to learn over the last few years for something to do.’

‘Like the computer programming?’

‘Computers are logical and don’t make mistakes. If something goes wrong, you know it is your fault. GIGO.’

‘What?’

‘You know – garbage in, garbage out.’

‘I see. You did very well in your gymnastics classes by all accounts.’

‘No point in being unhealthy, I want to live to a ripe old age.’

‘Don’t we all,’ smiled the doctor.

‘Yeah, but after the other night, I’m not so sure of my chances!’

‘That was an extreme situation Mary. You’re safe now, and we intend to keep it that way.’

‘I hope so.’

A beeper at the doctor’s belt rang.

‘That’s the end of today’s session. Those cards took up longer than I expected. See you here tomorrow at the same time Mary.’

‘If you say so doctor.’

The door opened and Gretchen appeared smiling.

‘Time for your next session Mary,’ she gestured to the open door.

***

Her psi had been more active in the testing room, enabling her to fly through the tests with Zener cards and moving coins. The remote viewing was more difficult, but she had still done well. Her life had been repressed, just like her psi, and now the restraints were slowly starting to come off. The rest of the day had flown by and Mary soon found herself back in her room, lying exhausted on the bed watching television. She had requested some books to read, and was told they would be there for her tomorrow morning.

While Mary lay on her bed, Peter called to check up on her progress with Dr Steiner.

‘So what do you make of our young lady then doctor?’

‘Interesting girl. Very institutionalised, a lot of repressed anger there, hence the suicide attempts. Privacy and freedom are the two pillars of this girl’s world, and both have been repeatedly knocked down in the past. She is going to need gentle handling to prepare her for what is to come.’

‘What does she remember about the attack on Redfields?’

‘She hasn’t realised the full extent of her TK yet. Her recollections are hazy, she’s in denial and I think she is going to struggle severely to come to terms with having killed someone, even though it was self-defence. The violent nature of the situation and the death, combined with her power going wild have left deep scars on her.’

‘Hence you giving her the boost about her psi?’

‘I felt it was justified in the circumstances. She needs to start to feel more confident if she’s going to be any use to you.’

‘Agreed, you did the right thing. What do you make of the alien reference? EBEs’

‘She’s been reading von Daniken and the like sir. Psi’s often read about magick and strange phenomena to try and find explanations for their abilities.’

‘Keep me informed of any developments.’

‘Acknowledged sir.’

The link broke and Peter sat holding his cigar whilst he pondered these developments.

***

February 11th

Another day of counseling, being pushed to her limits in a gym and a lab had left Mary feeling physically and emotionally drained. She fell immediately into a deep sleep.

She was in a padded cell. As she looked around she realised she was dreaming. A figure appeared in front of her. He was tall and slim, old and with a fierce pride about him. His silver hair was immaculately groomed, and he was wearing a three-piece blue suit.

‘Hello Mary,’ he said.

‘Who are you, another figment of my overactive imagination?’ Mary was getting angry, she did not want to have her dreams challenging her as well.

‘I’m your father Mary, Major John Davis, SAS, at your service,’ the man bowed as he spoke. He looked closely at her.

‘What are you now, P15? I’m impressed. Neither your mother or I rated above P5. Still we were the best available at the time. That’s why they took us in to the programme, fed us those drugs and paired us off. It was the drugs that did us in, you know. Destroyed our sanity, turned us into monsters.’ As he spoke the figure claiming to be her father started changing. He shrank and turned grey, his hair all falling out and features shifting. His eyes grew and darkened, his nose disappeared into his face, and claws sprouted from his hands.

‘Because they give us drugs with extracts from the glands of Grey’s, my darling daughter. Did they tell you that? Your father and mother were tainted and corrupted by the essence of those monsters, so now my soul is lost and I return as one of them to haunt you.’

The words formed in her brain, searing her mind with a cutting pain, forcing her gasping to her knees.

‘No, you’re not real, fuck off, leave me alone.’ Mary rallied her scattered thoughts and shot them like a mental dart at his mind. She was not prepared for the effect. The figure of the Grey shattered into thousands of pieces, like a mirror breaking in a vacuum.

‘It’s all smoke and mirrors Mary, you can’t escape, and you’ll never know the truth, just go mad like we did,’ his voice jeered faintly as the fragments disappeared.

‘No!’ Mary woke with a start.

Looking around the room she saw the walls around her, enclosing her like a cell, and felt an overbearing pressure as if they were closing in on her. Why was this happening to her? She didn’t want to be part of this crazy world, treated like a puppy to be trained into goodness knows what. She wanted out!

Running sobbing to the bathroom, Mary shut the door behind her and scanned the room frantically. Punching the mirror she felt the pain of breaking glass as the mirror shattered. Grabbing a large shard of glass from the sink she slashed down the inside of her wrist. Hands slick with blood, she switched hands and slashed at the other wrist, collapsing in a sobbing heap on the floor as blood gushed out.

‘Shit!’ Gretchen had burst through the door and took in the scene with a glance. Running to the intercom she yelled into it.

‘Medical emergency. Get a team to Mary’s room now, attempted suicide, she might need a blood transfusion, she’s slashed her wrists.’

At frantic speed Gretchen grabbed a white dress from a drawer and started ripping it into bandages.

‘Mary you stupid cow, this is no solution,’ she shrieked at Mary as she started bandaging her wrists and applying pressure to staunch the blood flow.

‘Gretchen, what’s happened to Mary?’

‘Cutter, how the hell are you in my head?’

‘Don’t worry about that, how’s Mary?’

‘She’s slashed her wrists, lost loads of blood.’

‘Listen carefully Gretchen. When they transfuse her tell them to use my blood or Joe’s. She’ll react to anyone else’s. Got that?’

‘Where are you Cutter?’

‘In a firefight. Gotta go. Stay with her Gretchen, I’m depending on you. Don’t let her out of your sight! Keep Evan or Michael with you.’

‘Understood.’

Within moments the main door to the room popped open. Evan burst into the room with a security override key in his hand. Running into the bathroom he took in the scene and gently lifted Mary into his arms, carrying her to the stretcher waiting in the hall.

‘What the hell happened G? I felt her psychic scream from down the hall!’

‘She’s a P15 Evan, the scream woke me up, and as you can see she tried to top herself, the silly cow.’

Evan looked at the pale face on the stretcher as they ran along the corridor next to the medics. She was just a girl, albeit a very beautiful one.

‘Evan, stay with me, Cutter has asked us to keep her under 24/7 guard.’

‘How the hell?’

‘I don’t know, but he sent me a message from wherever he is. He’s seriously worried about her.’

Evan thought he detected a note of jealousy in Gretchen’s voice, and knew there was more going on here than he was likely to be told. Still, if Cutter wanted him to guard her, he would, no matter the consequences.

***

Sarah Cartwright woke with a sense of wrongness. There was a presence, overwhelming the room. A psi stronger than she had ever met was in her flat! Where were the guards?

‘Unconscious,’ a cultured voice informed her. Opening her eyes she looked at the short man standing in the corner of the room. Who was he?

‘I’m your nemesis. You’ve hurt my granddaughter badly, and stolen something very precious from both of us, now its time to pay the price my dear, after I’ve extracted all the details of your treachery from that lovely head of yours.’

Sarah opened her mouth in a silent scream, as his power enfolded her, caught like a fly in amber by a man who could read her every thought.

***

The black armoured limousine pulled up to the kerb. Peter glanced across at Cutter’s motionless form.

‘Are you alright Cutter?’

‘A precog Peter. The hit will be on the way back tonight.’

‘Right. Plan C then.’

‘Not during the opera Cutter?’

‘No Lady Rawlins.’

‘Good, I’ve been so looking forward to it.’

Mandy smiled at Cutter. She admired the way that nothing ever seemed to bother Peter’s wife.

***

After a fine performance of ‘La Traviata’, Peter, Cutter, Mandy and Sarah, the double for Lady Rawlins, made their way into the black armoured limousine. Cutter noticed that Joe was now their chauffeur and exchanged grins with him. Cutter liked to be surrounded by competent operatives.

The drive through West London and out into the countryside was uneventful, and as they drove down the country lanes Cutter felt his precognition tingling.

‘Red and blue teams, imminent contact, proceed to attack positions’. Cutter spoke into his headset as he pulled an Ingrams sub-machinegun from the side rack on the car door. Mandy and Sarah duplicated his actions. Peter drew his trusty Webley revolver and smiled nervously. Being bait was not a sensation he was enjoying.

‘Now!’

They burst out of the rear doors of the limo as it pulled to a halt, diving into the hedges that lined the country road. Moments later the car exploded in a huge fireball as two rockets hit it front and back.

Cutter scanned the area psychically for threats.

‘Eight men, four front, four back. One psi in each team. I’ll take the psi’s out. Joe, Sarah you take the team at the front. Peter, Mandy, the back team.’

Peter nodded his understanding to Cutter’s telepathic message. He might be Cutter’s superior, but in the field he deferred to his top operative. From the ditch on the other side of the road Joe sent back a message that he and Sarah were ready.

The sound of car engines and squealing of brakes said the action was about to happen.

Cutter concentrated his mind and focused on the psi in the team approaching from the front, he was the greater threat. With a grunt he sent a killing blast of psychic force at the man, a P6. An agonised death scream told its own tale.

In response sprays of bullets hit the hedges from both directions like angry bees, buzzing over their heads.

Joe loaded a grenade into the launcher he had pulled out of the driver’s seat with him and fired it at the group approaching cautiously towards the front of the wrecked limousine.

The explosion ripped two of the men apart, and the third man fell to Sarah as she opened up on full auto with her Ingrams, the thirty rounds emptying out of the magazine in two seconds as she pulled her arm in a figure of eight for maximum field of fire.

Peter had problems of his own. The other enemy psi was targeting him. Not strong enough to kill or even seriously injure Peter, the psi was trying to scan past Peter’s surface thoughts to pick information from his brain. Sweat poured off Peter’s brow as he tried to keep his mental shields in place. Not a telepath himself, he had undergone the shielding training he insisted all his operatives had from Cutter, and was now very grateful for.

The pressure suddenly disappeared and he gulped huge breaths of air into his lungs in relief, secure in the knowledge that Cutter had struck again. Glancing at Cutter he realised he was not the only one sweating from mental effort.

‘Got one,’ hissed Mandy, firing another burst on semi-auto from her Ingrams.

Another hail of bullets and the battle was over, Blue team had arrived and dispatched the remaining two men from behind.

Peter pulled a headset from the inside pocket of his Kevlar-lined dinner jacket and put it on.

‘Blue team, secure the area. Red team, where the hell are you?’

The stress of the action was clearly audible in Peter’s voice. Mandy glanced over at Cutter, who was dusting bits of foliage off his jacket. Cutter was politely ignoring Peter until he had calmed down, and seemed distracted. She recognised the signs of a long distance telepathic conversation and wondered what was going on.

‘God, we have terminated an incoming enemy team. Red three was K.I.A. We are now securing the perimeter on this side.’

The word every commander hated to hear. K.I.A., killed in action. At times like this Peter wished he could live up to his code name of God and bring the man back to life. Every time one of his operatives died, Peter cursed the world he lived in, but the luxury of choice wasn’t his.

‘Who was it?’

‘Daryl Higgins sir.’

Another voice cut through his mental image of a keen young man who had been in First Wave for the last two years.

‘God, this is Omega-1, ETA five mikes, over.’

‘Roger that Omega-1. We have one K.I.A. and twelve hostiles to dispose of. God out.’

Peter tried to smile at Cutter and Mandy, but a grimace was the best he could manage.

‘Five minutes before the cleaners arrive. Shall we go?’

‘I picked up something on one of the psi’s heads before I terminated him Peter, can we talk before debriefing?’

Knowing Cutter wouldn’t make such a request unless it was important, he nodded in agreement.

***

February 12th

‘How did it go?’ asked Peter as Cutter slipped into the spare chair in his study.

‘It went,’ replied Cutter. ‘They had two of our guys, both had been tortured and taken their pills rather than reveal anything. We terminated the five hostiles we found there, none of them were psi’s.’

‘Who did you have with you apart from Joe?’ Peter questioned, sipping from his brandy glass.

‘One of Mishagi’s men.’

‘Fine’ continued Peter knowing that a full report would be on his desk in the morning. ‘Anything interesting from our friends in Japan?’

‘Mishagi is concerned that Majestic are trying to move into their sphere in force. It seems they’ve managed to link up with one of the Yakuza clans. We may be in for a major blood-letting. There might be a request for Joe and I to join them if our ryu’s get involved.’

‘That ties in with what happened tonight and the hit on Redfields. They seem to be stepping up activities drastically. Fair enough Cutter. As long as you’re not out on an op, you both have my permission. On a different note, what do you make of our young Miss Davis and her actions?’

‘She’s one of the best psi’s I’ve ever seen, though her mental health worries me. How is she?’

‘It wasn’t too serious Cutter, more of a cry for attention. The mental scream she sent out alerted all the psi’s in the complex, even through the jammers! I think she’ll get through it, assuming she doesn’t totally fall apart of course. Not the most stable girl in the world, that one.’

‘Give her a physical therapist Peter, she needs to get more into her body, psi’s tend to live in their heads way too much and a load of psychobabble isn’t what she needs now to get over this. Get Michael to teach her tai chi, and get her living more in her body and not just in her head.’

‘You seem very concerned about her Cutter. Any idea why your blood and Joe’s should be compatible with hers?’ Peter looked curiously at him.

‘In my experience any psi of P12 or above tends to have certain antibodies in their blood Peter. Along with Joe, She and I are the only stable psi’s of P15 plus that you have. When do you want me to start working with her? As a P20 I can help stabilise her.’

‘Give it three months and we’ll talk again Cutter. I appreciate what you are saying, but we can’t let her become dependent on you. She has to be forged in the crucible Cutter, made ready to handle all the horrors she will face. You know as well as I that her talent is too valuable to risk until she is stable and ready. Sarah Cartwright’s dead Cutter, do you know anything about that?’

‘No sir, I don’t.’ Cutter was used to Peter’s sudden directional changes in conversation.

‘Funny thing Cutter, whoever killed her didn’t kill her guards. Why do you think someone would do that, unless they were one of ours?’

‘To sow dissension maybe Peter? Who knows? I give you my word that I wasn’t involved in her death.’

‘Fair enough Cutter, I know you well enough to trust your word, apart from the fact that you were protecting me at the time!’

***

Mary lay unconscious in the ICU, watched over by Evan. Peter had put her on suicide watch, so one of the psi’s had to stay with her at all times now until she was deemed stable enough to continue. As he sat gazing at her, Evan wondered what was so special about this girl that she should warrant such treatment. This whole state of the art facility near Oxford was entirely set up around her. He, Gretchen and Michael were three of the top psi’s in the organisation, who were frequently out in the field. Additionally there were a dozen normal guards and a whole range of medical staff and psychiatrists.

He felt a psychic signature he recognised walking down the hall, and stood up to open the door for Gretchen.

‘Thanks Evan,’ she smiled as she walked past him.

‘My shift now, you go and get some rest.’

‘What do you make of all this G?’

Realising he did not want to be taped discussing this issue, Gretchen replied telepathically.

‘I don’t know Evan. Cutter is very interested, so it must be important. I wonder why he isn’t here too?’

‘Too many ops needing his attention I guess.’

‘See you tomorrow G,’ he called as he left.

***

February 18th

A week had passed since Mary’s suicide attempt. Gretchen was her constant shadow when she was awake, and there was a guard situated outside her room at all times when she was asleep. Mary had come to realise that Gretchen was a talented empath, who could read her moods and emotions, even if she did not have the same telepathic ability as Mary.

As Gretchen glanced at the door, Mary picked up on her mood and asked if they could go for a walk in the grounds.

‘Sure Mary, I could do with the fresh air,’ agreed Gretchen.

They left through the back door, signing out with Evan as they left. The grounds were large and well kept.

‘Shall we go through the arboretum?’ asked Gretchen.

‘Sounds good,’ confirmed Mary.

As they walked through the avenue of different trees Mary noticed a small figure up ahead performing sequences of movements.

‘Who’s that?’ she enquired.

‘That’s Michael, he’s the gardener here. Would you like to meet him?’

Gretchen led the way to the man, who paused in his movements and smiled at them.

‘Michael, this is Mary,’ Gretchen introduced the short and beautiful young Chinese man.

‘Hello Mary, pleased to meet you.’

‘You too Michael. What were you doing then?’

‘Practising my forms. Tai chi chuan,’ he added, seeing the blank look on her face.

‘What is it?’

‘It’s a form of exercise that teaches you to go with the flow, moving with energy. It is a spiritual discipline that brings great calm.’

‘Could I try it, I could certainly do with some calm.’

‘Sure, G, show her a simple form, and I’ll correct your movements as you copy her Mary.’

For the next half an hour Mary discovered the flow of tai chi, and found immense pleasure in the stillness it brought her.

As they paused, Gretchen informed her it was time to return to her routine.

‘You can join me again tomorrow if you like Mary,’ Michael stated as she and Gretchen walked away.

Gretchen nodded as she looked questioningly at her.

‘That’d be great, I’ll be here.’

‘Remember Mary, when at rest be as the mountain, when in motion be as the stream. And read that book I mentioned.’

‘The Dao Deh Ying, I’ll get it as soon as I can Michael, I promise.’

Smiling again he walked to the nearest tree and started examining the bark.

***

‘Status report doctor.’

‘She’s making good progress sir,’ declared Dr Steiner. ‘Gretchen is keeping her calm, and Cutter’s idea worked a treat today.’

‘Yes I saw the footage from the grounds. She was actually smiling as she did that tai chi. Definitely a step in the right direction. How much longer will you need with her?’

‘Another month minimum. I can re-evaluate as we go along, but I think she may be ready for you towards the end of next month.’

‘Good, Peter out.’

***

February 30th

‘Who’s Cutter Evan?’

Evan started. He was one of the guards assigned to keeping an eye on Mary at night. Peter had decided all the guards should be psi’s which limited it to a very small number.

‘Pardon?’

‘I said, who is Cutter? This man has been appearing in my dreams, and says he is Cutter. Tall, about six foot three, muscular, close-cropped dark hair, blue eyes. Scary but friendly.’

‘That sounds like Cutter alright. I’m not at liberty to discuss him with you Mary.’

‘Well who is?’

‘Look I’ll speak to Peter, and see what I can say.’

Mary smiled to herself. She had done as Cutter asked her. She didn’t understand why she implicitly trusted this man who had the power to enter her dreams, it was not natural for her to do so, and she had never trusted anybody. But something about him demanded trust, and the lessons he was giving her in her dreams were certainly helping her psi abilities, and giving her a better perspective of the world she found herself in. She knew he wasn’t giving her the whole picture, but she realised this was for her own benefit. Mary had finally found someone who wanted to protect her and had the ability to do so. This was the most precious gift anyone could ever give her, and she wasn’t going to throw it away.

***

‘Sir, she asked me who Cutter was! Said he had appeared to her in her dreams.’

‘I saw the videos Evan. Brief her on Cutter. Tell her this.’ Peter handed a sheet to Evan. As Evan scanned the sheet he saw that Peter wasn’t going to pull any punches, and suspected he was annoyed at Cutter for forcing his hand.

‘Dismissed Evan.’

‘Sir’. Evan saluted, turned and left the office. Peter chuckled. He appreciated military discipline, and Evan’s military training had left its indelible mark on him, a soldier through and through. The videophone on his desk rang and came to life.

‘Status report Peter.’ His boss looked impatient.

‘As you predicted and saw from the videos sir, Cutter made contact with her. I’m keeping her under constant surveillance. He’ll be back tonight. Our precogs report Cutter will go solo if we don’t give him access to Mary.’

‘Let him take over her training Peter. He obviously has his reasons, and we know his loyalty is beyond question. A clannish bunch, these psi’s, without doubt. Its been decided to speed up the Dark Angels program. You have six months to have them ready. So maybe Cutter is helping us without realising it. I doubt anybody else could have her prepared in that time. Be ready Peter, we have a world war to stop.’

‘Understood sir, out.’

Peter slammed his fist on the desk in frustration. The world was going to hell, and only his people had a hope of stopping it.

***

‘Okay Mary, Peter has cleared me to brief you on Cutter, as he will be your training supervisor.’

Mary was delighted. Suppressing a grin, she looked excitedly at Evan. Evan returned her gaze, she really was very beautiful when she allowed herself to smile.

‘Before I start you should know that you are now part of a secret organisation dedicated to protecting the interests of this country and its allies.

‘Cutter is our top field operative. He has been here for eight years, and in that time has completed over three hundred ops. This includes one hundred and thirty-seven long-range terminations.’

Mary looked puzzled.

‘Assassinations Mary. Cutter is our top sniper. He never misses. He is a P20, and runs our Mindwar training programme, teaching psychic shielding and psychic attack methods. He is also a master martial artist. In short, Cutter is a killing machine on two legs. Fortunately he is also a very honourable man or we would be in very deep shit.’

‘Does it say that on the briefing sheet?’

‘No Mary, I’m ad-libbing from personal experience. Cutter is a very closed individual, don’t push him for information about himself, he is very discrete and private about his past.’

***

March 4th

After a week of being tested, assessed, poked, prodded, and vaccinated against everything under the sun, Mary was being moved from her box into new quarters. A blacked out limousine driven by Evan had taken her from the mansion near Oxford to somewhere in the countryside. She studied her surroundings as she followed the mousy secretary through labyrinthine corridors. The hallway was clean and rather clinical in its’ decoration. Freshly painted cream walls, blue short pile carpet, and every five meters or so, a very solid looking dark wooden door, identified by numbers.

The secretary stopped outside 334, and pressed the buzzer.

‘Gretchen’, she spoke into the intercom, ‘I have your room-mate here.’

The door was released, and the secretary called into the room, ‘Take care of Mary, and don’t let her out of your sight, that’s an order from Peter. Remember the briefing.’

The door closed shut behind her. Mary took a look round her new living quarters. It was a large room, with two single beds at opposite ends of the space with a bureau against the far wall. The desk was full of Gretchen’s makeup, perfume, underwear, and various bits and pieces that she did not have time to identify, as their owner walked out of a steam-filled en-suite bathroom, white fluffy towel wrapped around her body. Although not tall, Gretchen was impressive, buxom, and well-muscled.

‘Hi, Mary, we’re going to be room-mates, we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other from now on.’

‘That’s great Gretchen,’ Mary enthused. Of all the people she had met, Gretchen was the one she found easiest to get on with.

Gretchen laughed. ‘Well Mary, its time to grow up now, you’re around adults, and you’ll have to grow up damn fast. I’ve been briefed a bit about your background – not everything, don’t worry, I don’t know everything about you, just enough for me to understand. In every way that matters you are free. You have a wage, and you have position. Okay, so you are not that far up, but you are trusted more than most new recruits. That is why you are here, and not in the box rooms. That is why you are going to have one on one training for the most part. Mary, you are valuable, so act like it. You are a psi, and we are a precious commodity.’

‘Listen Gretchen, I still don’t know what I want, apart from to stay alive.’

‘We all want that Mary.’

Gretchen dropped her towel and started dressing, aware of the effect her toned but scarred naked body was having on Mary.

All Mary could do was stare in shock at the scars that she noticed on Gretchen’s legs and shoulder, faint lines against the dark brown bunches of muscle. Gretchen laughed, a deep throaty laugh.

‘Welcome to hell Mary, I hope you live long enough to enjoy the experience!’

***

‘So where are we Gretchen?’

Gretchen was giving Mary a tour of the underground facility to help her familiarise her with her new home.

‘Somewhere in Anglia Mary, but don’t expect a grid reference. This place is as invisible as the organisation.’

Mary had been stunned to realise that such a major facility could be hidden under the earth and people not know about it, until Gretchen explained that all the contractors who worked on it had had their memories of the time wiped and replaced with programmed memories of holidays abroad.

‘Surely the builders would have noticed they weren’t tanned though Gretchen?’ Mary voiced a thought that was bugging her.

‘They were put under sun lamps every day, and photos created for them to help fix the memories. The lab boys are very good at that sort of thing Mary. Anyhow, back to business. You saw the lifts where we came in. They take you down to the different levels. Level one is living quarters, level two is recreational areas like the bar and dining rooms and kitchens. Level three is training facilities, like gymnasiums, shooting ranges, killing house, computer rooms. Level four is offices and miscellaneous rooms, such as interrogation areas and briefing rooms. Level five is off limits, the lifts won’t take you there without a special code. That’s where all the serious intelligence gathering goes on.’

‘As you can see Mary, the place is structured like an American city, on a grid system, making it easy to find your way around. Okay let’s head for level two and the dining room!’

***

Now they expected her to train for combat! To everyone’s surprise it had become immediately apparent that Mary was a natural shot, scoring at the top of the range every time with a pistol. Mary smiled to herself, she liked to surprise people and throw them off balance, it made her feel more in control of the situation and that was a sensation she was not used to. Then her thoughts returned to the man she had killed and her mood nose-dived

Sitting next to Gretchen in the changing rooms as they changed into loose-fitting white cotton trousers and tops, Mary felt sick. Physical violence was abhorrent to her. Duplicating Gretchen’s actions she stashed her clothes in an empty locker and hurried to the door into the gym.

Mary saw a semi-circle of six men and one woman sitting on the other side of the gym, with a large muscular man in his thirties standing above them looking annoyed.

‘Right you dozy lot, time for a lesson in pain. You, stand up.’ The instructor pointed to one of the men, a stocky young man who looked about twenty-two to Mary.

‘Try and hit me.’

The young man looked slyly at him, and swept a kick at the side of his right knee. The instructor had already moved to the left and punched him on the back of the head.

‘Next,’ he continued, ‘go from the end there round to our latecomer, who will identify herself.’

‘Mary,’ apologised Mary. ‘I’m Mary.’

‘Hello Mary, I’m Stephen. The others can introduce themselves afterwards. For now, I need to assess you all. I’ve seen what your gradings are on paper, but I’m more interested in seeing you in action. I’ll be teaching you CQB, close quarter battle techniques, the dirty stuff not the fancy stuff. When you fight on a job, you fight to win as quickly as possible. No fancy stuff, no Marquis of Queensbury rules. Just survival for you and those who depend on you in your team. Got it?’

Everyone voiced their agreement. The other woman stood up and approached. She was a tall Asian women, exquisitely beautiful and with a lithe figure. She gave a bow and launched into a series of blows and kicks, all of which were blocked. Stephen chopped her lightly on the neck to indicate a strike. He gave her a shallow bow, and gestured to the next man.

Within three minutes it was Mary’s turn. Just as she was about to approach Stephen, the door slammed and a tall figure walked across the gym.

‘Sorry to interrupt Stephen, Mary is training with me.’

A buzz of excitement had filled the gymnasium as Cutter entered. His presence filled the room, and everyone wanted to see what he would do.

‘Want to show them how it’s done Gretchen?’ asked Stephen.

Gretchen stood, bowed and without warning chopped at his throat. Stephen blocked the chop with his forearm and bowed in return.

‘You see,’ continued Stephen as if nothing had happened, though he had only just managed to block the chop, ‘Nothing fancy. She went for one of the vital spots. The throat. A good blow to the throat will crush the windpipe and leave your opponent struggling to breathe and unable to cry out. This is the sort of technique you will learn. Experience has shown us that even a good martial artist can’t dodge a bullet, and people often get wrapped up in their style of fighting, and become rigid. Use your opponent’s weaknesses against them and take them down hard and fast.’

‘Now pair off to practice the moves I’ll be showing you.’

Cutter took Mary over to the far corner and sat her down on a mat.

‘Hello Mary, it’s good to meet you in the flesh. With your lack of combat training I thought you might prefer to avoid that class until you have had some practice.’

‘Thank you sir, I appreciate that.’

Cutter laughed. ‘Call me Cutter, not sir.’

‘Ok, Cutter.’

‘We can talk more later, but for now I should start showing you what to do. The first part of any combat is the mental side of it. In your case if all goes well you won’t be in combat situations anyway. But let’s start with the basics. How are you at meditating?’

‘Pretty good. I used to do it a lot at Redfields.’

‘Mary, don’t mention Redfields here to anyone, it is something of a secret. Close your eyes and relax, and meditate. I will take you through some mental gymnastics to get the ball rolling.’

When Mary opened her eyes she stared in amazement at the clock on the wall. An hour had passed although it only seemed like minutes. Cutter bid her farewell and left as suddenly as he had arrived.

The beautiful Asian woman approached Mary and introduced herself as they walked back to the changing rooms.

‘Hi, I’m Neena. What was that chanting you were doing?’

‘You’d have to ask Cutter about that Neena.’

‘I’m a black belt in kick-boxing. What about you?’

‘I don’t have any training in this sort of thing.’

As they got back into their normal clothes after showering, Neena tried to engage her in conversation.

‘What room are you in? I’m in W3.’

‘I’m in 334.’

Neena looked at Gretchen, who was standing waiting in the corner, and back to Mary with a calculating gaze. ‘You must be special, not in the dorms and Cutter as your personal own trainer. How about we be friends, I haven’t really got any in this place.’

Mary could feel nothing but good intentions coming from her, well with a bit of envy thrown in. Perhaps it was time to start making allies in this place.

‘Come on Mary, time for more work.’ Gretchen was tapping her foot as she stood by the door.

‘Give her a break, she’s still changing,’ called Neena.

Gretchen walked across the room and stopped in front of Neena. ‘Keep your nose where it belongs and don’t sniff around Cutter, or I’ll break it. And that will be a favour, that way you won’t be able to smell when you’re out on cleaning duty for the first six months.’

Neena blanched at this threat. Mary wondered what on earth cleaning duty was to produce such a reaction. She felt sorry for Neena. The first person to approach her in this place, and she was slapped down hard. Although inexperienced at friendship, Mary realised she needed to show some support to Neena or lose her right then.

‘I’ll see you tomorrow Neena,’ she forced a smile as she rushed out of the changing room.

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CHAPTER 1 Of DARK GENESIS by Jack Alucard
Available from http://www.lulu.com/content/2599258
(c) 2000, 2008 Jack Alucard

You can contact the author by emailing jackalucard@googlemail.com

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