Piranha Assignment Read Online Free PDF Page B

I’ve never told this to anyone. The reason I’m still standing here instead of lying dead in a jungle somewhere is that I can feel when danger’sapproaching.” He looked into Roberts’ eyes, checking for skepticism. Feeling no challenge, Morgan continued. “When I finally got used to that I met Felicity and found out that she and I have some kind of psychic link. We get feelings of where the other is and how they are. Don’t even think about laughing. That’s how I found her in the jungle that day, and she’s saved my life the same way. At moments of emotional intensity, I can actually feel her physical sensations sometimes, and vice versa.”
    Roberts fell silent for a moment, and then began to mumble to himself. “Well, it’s not all that crazy. I know about some CIA experiments with extra sensory perception, and I know a good handful of firm believers. The Agency has even hired psychics to hunt for terrorists like the Unabomber. But over all, we’ve had poor experience with ESP. I’m not saying it doesn’t exist, but if it does, people don’t seem to be able to control it.”
    â€œWell, that’s the thing,” Morgan said.
    Roberts stared at the woman at the far end of the range, gathering an armful of clay pigeons. Morgan guessed he was trying to imagine what it might be like for them. He knew that in a few seconds those thoughts would lead his friend to the still unanswered question.
    â€œYou said you could feel each other’s physical sensations?”
    â€œSometimes,” Morgan said, cocking the automatic.
    â€œThen if your relationship turned…intimate…”
    â€œImagine feeling what you were doing to a woman just like it was happening to you,” Morgan responded. Old fear flashed across his face.
    â€œWhoa. I guess your business relationship really must be strictly business.” He stared at his shoes, shaking his head. When he looked up, His eyes widened. Morgan was drawing a bead on Felicity at the end of the range.
    â€œHey! What the hell are you doing?” Roberts’ voice echoed off the cement walls. “You’re not going to shoot with her down there.”
    â€œNot yet,” Morgan said. “First, bring me that blindfold from the table.” When Roberts hesitated, he said, “That’s what you’re here for. The safety factor. Now bring it here.”
    Roberts looked dazed as he picked up the heavy black piece of cloth and returned to Morgan’s side. His eyes stayed focused on the slim form of the young woman at the end of the long tunnel while Morgan was talking to him.
    â€œShe…we wanted to run a test, to see if we could get direction from one another, other than our own location. Put that blindfold around my head. That’s it. Tighter. Now, you’re going to give the signal to Felicity. Put my hearing protection on me and put those earplugs in.”
    â€œIs she holding those clay pigeons for the reason I think?” Roberts asked.
    â€œProbably. I’ll just point in the right direction like this, two handed. You just say ‘pull’, okay? She’ll toss a clay, and I’ll shoot by instinct.”
    Roberts swallowed hard. “What if you hit something other than a clay pigeon?”
    Morgan’s face creased, and there were six long seconds of hesitation. “Well, then I guess we’ll know it didn’t work.”
    Morgan stood with feet shoulder-width apart, his pistol held in front of him as if he could see down its sights. He was as still as a cigar store Indian, and felt just as grim. His senses were extended, as if he were tracking a guerrilla through the jungle at night, yet his mind worked toward complete relaxation. There was tension in the air, but not in the man. He was open, receptive, praying Felicity was right and her visual perceptions would float into his head.
    Twenty-five yards away, Felicity prayed too. Not in