Ghostwalker 08 - Street Game

medic bag.”
    A hush immediately fell over the group. They’d grown up together and Gideon was immensely popular with them all. He had a way of bringing calm to any situation.
    He tended to be quiet, but was one they always counted on, a good man to have at one’s back.
    “You don’t wait next time,” Mack said. “And that’s an order.” There was no pretending it wouldn’t happen again; they all dealt with it. And if he was right, and their psychic talents were growing with use, or with whatever else Whitney had done to them to accelerate it, so were the negative side effects. Mack brushed at the lines of fatigue etched into Gideon’s face.
    “I’m okay, boss. Just need to sleep. Can’t seem to these days.”
    Lucas had mentioned in passing to Mack that Gideon wasn’t sleeping. He should have followed up on it. Gideon often prowled the apartment at night when he wasn’t on guard duty, and during the day he wasn’t taking his usual catnaps.
    His heart beat too fast, and there was a bad taste in his mouth. He recognized it as fear. Mack had always controlled every situation through careful planning, and yet now he had no way of ensuring his men were safe. He took every precaution on a mission, but their health, the consequences of their psychic abilities, was beyond his control. It seemed the stronger the gift, the greater the repercussions.
    Kane dropped a hand on his shoulder as he placed the medic bag on the bed beside Gideon. “We all made the decision, Mack,” he said quietly.
    Mack let out his breath. He knew none of them blamed him, and maybe some of them would have done it anyway without his endorsement, but they had been following him since they were kids and he had known they’d follow him this time.
    Kane’s statement didn’t let him off the hook, though he appreciated it.
    Kane prepared a shot. “I’m going to get you to sleep, Gideon. Just lay it down for a while. No dreaming. Just go out and let your mind and body rest.”

    161

    Gideon flashed him a wan grin. “Yeah, I’ll try to remember about that dreaming thing.”
    “Maybe I can help,” Paul said, his voice a little thin.
    There was instant silence. All the men turned to eye him carefully. The scrutiny was thorough.
    “What can you do for him, Paul?” Mack asked. “There’s nothing in your jacket indicating you’re a healer.”
    The tips of the kid’s ears turned crimson. “The bio was tweaked quite a bit.”
    “Why?”
    Paul shook his head, his gaze sliding away from Mack. “It’s not what you think.
    Protection, not to spy.”
    “Protection for who?”
    Paul heaved a sigh. “Me. Sergeant Major assigned me to your unit because he believes you have the best chance of protecting me.”
    “Tell me the rest.”
    “I’m not at liberty to do so, Top.”
    “Damn, do you think this is a game? You pose a threat to even one of my men, do you think I have the least compunction about putting a gun to your head and pulling the trigger?” Mack stalked across the short distance to stand in front of the kid, glaring, staring straight into his eyes. “I hope you can read, because I’m giving you the gospel here, Paul.”
    “I read you loud and clear, boss,” Paul said.
    “You haven’t earned the right to call me boss,” Mack said. “Until I can trust you, you call me Top.”
    Paul stared straight ahead. “Yes, Top.” He barked it out, a marine to a master gunnery sergeant.
    “Just what can you do for Gideon?” Kane asked.
    “I have some healing talent, sir,” Paul said. “I’m able to visualize the brain and skull and see any damage done.”
    Mack sucked in his breath. “You’re a fucking psychic surgeon,” he guessed.
    There was a note of awe and respect in his voice in spite of his anger at Sergeant Major for planting someone on his team with unknown skills. A psychic surgeon was one of the rarest of talents. Mack had never actually met one. It was rumored they existed, but no one he knew had even seen one. Joe Spagnola, like many others, had 162

    the rudimentary skills to heal wounds, but none of them could actually operate as a psychic surgeon was reputed to be able to do. “You’re the real damn deal.”
    Paul’s gaze shifted around the room, touching on all the faces. “I could be killed if anyone found out.”
    “Are you crazy? If you’re the real thing, you’re invaluable.”
    “Let me help him.” Paul took a deep breath.
    For the first time Mack realized the kid couldn’t stop