Mind's Eye by Douglas E. Richards Page A

Hector Garcia.
    “I’m afraid in a case like this,” said Garcia, “we have to take her in. We can stabilize her here. But we’re required to bring her to the hospital as soon as possible.”
    They walked over to her unconscious body and examined Hall’s makeshift bandages, while Hall slipped into both of their minds effortlessly. He divined that Garcia had considerable experience and was more senior than his partner, Tony Kosakowski. Garcia pulled a bright LED light from his bag, and both men examined Megan’s wound.
    Garcia tensed and was immediately alert. She had powder burns around the entry . Dispatch had said this was a scissor wound, but he now had no doubt it was a gunshot wound. Which meant they had been lied to.
    Hall cursed inwardly as he picked up these thoughts, but decided it was just as well. He and Megan couldn’t have afforded to be taken to the hospital anyway, where they would be sitting ducks, even if Garcia hadn’t figured out Megan had been shot.
    Hall removed Baldino’s gun from the waistband of his pants and pointed it at the two paramedics standing over Megan. “We need to talk,” he said, and both men’s eyes widened as they saw the gun pointed their way.
    “What’s this about?” said Kosakowski, his face now pale.
    “Look, I don’t mean you any harm,” said Hall. “I just can’t have you reporting a gunshot wound or taking her in. You need to work on her here.”
    “Gunshot wound?” repeated Kosakowski stupidly.
    Hall read Garcia’s frustration at being partnered with such a Newbie, who probably would have missed the telltales if he had seen the shooting personally. Don’t mean us any harm, my ass , thought the short paramedic bitterly.
    Hall knew that Kosakowski hadn’t bought his claim either, and that both men were alert for even the slightest chance to escape or turn the tables. He couldn’t blame them.
    “She needs an IV,” said Garcia. “It’s already set up in the ambulance.”
    Hall searched the paramedic’s mind and discovered it wouldn’t be difficult to move the IV pole and paraphernalia into the room. “Hector,” he said, “I need you to start working on the girl right away. Tony, I need you to bring the IV equipment in here, as quickly and discreetly as possible.”
    Both men’s mouths fell open, and Hall was blasted by panicked thoughts of tremendous intensity. He should have realized that using their names would elevate their state of alarm ten-fold, since this level of familiarity was an indication of bizarre, almost certainly psychopathic premeditation on his part. Was this a trap for them? Was the girl just a lure? Was he after them personally for some psychotic reason? What kind of crazed stalker asshole was this guy?
    “Tony, I know you’re thinking of calling for help the second you leave this room,” said Hall. “Don’t try it. Cooperate and both of you will be just fine. But, Tony, if you try anything— anything —I’ll have no choice but to kill your partner. And then I’ll find you at . . .” He paused and tilted his head. “Eighty-two fifty-eight Big Orchard Road, and kill you as well.”
    If the use of their names had troubled them, Hall’s knowledge of Kosakowski’s address hit them like a supercharged cattle prod.
    “Look, I can read minds,” explained Hall. “That’s how I know your address. So if you call anyone from the ambulance or try anything, I’ll know about it instantly. Let me demonstrate,” he continued, turning to Garcia. “Think of a three digit number.”
    Garcia hesitated.
    “Now!” demanded Hall.
    Garcia did as Hall asked, despite thinking he was certainly dealing with a madman.
    “Six seventy-three,” said Hall, and the paramedic’s eyes widened in amazement. “Think of another one.”
    Garcia did so.
    “Two eighty-nine,” said Hall immediately, and an observer wouldn’t have had to be able to read minds to tell from Garcia’s expression that Hall was correct once again.
    Hall quickly