GENRE: Historical Paranormal Fantasy
It's 1952 and tensions are high as the Cold War's in full swing. But when the United States' top psychic, Ruslan, goes rogue and threatens to destroy the civilized world one atomic bomb at a time, the world powers must work together to assemble their best psychics and soldiers to hunt him down.
With a single action he forfeited his life.
Frowning at the backs of the two dour guards escorting him, he quickened his step to keep pace with the officials' long stride. Their footsteps echoed ominously along the endless, empty corridor. A young man, now nearly eighteen, Draza didn’t specifically know why he'd suddenly been transferred into the deep dark of an obscure mountain fortress, but well understood it had to do with his brother's vanishing from the DIA, the Defense Intelligence Agency’s, research facility in Fort Meade nearly six months back.
"I'm not a liar. I don't know where my brother is."
Tensing, one of the soldiers snapped his head to the left and eyed Draza over his shoulder. "What?" His mouth twisted down as he nearly spat the words, "I didn't ask you anything."
"Yes, but you were thinking it."
The soldier outwardly acted as though he wasn't concerned by the comment, mildly quirking his brow back at him. And yet, Draza knew better. Squared shoulders, tightened jaw, creases as the corners of the mouth, he didn't need his ability to read minds to see just how much he'd affected the soldier. Ever since childhood his telepathic talent made everyone uncomfortable.
With a sigh of exasperation, Draza added, “It's cold here.”
Clearing his throat and motioning his hand, the soldier quickened his pace and gruffly ordered, “Keep moving. This way.”
Yes, get me off your hands as quickly as possible and be done with me.