September 25th, 1997
Angel Island, 3:31 am
A loud buzzing awakened Derek from his fitful sleep. Looking at his clock he had surmised that the alarm wasn't going off when he realized the phone by the bed was ringing.
"Derek Rayne." He spoke, accent thickening from his sudden stress.
"Hello, Derek." The voice of William Sloan invaded his ear and Derek flinched at the volume.
"William, do you know what time it is?" Derek asked, exasperated.
"This is important, Derek. There's been another murder in San Francisco." He replied, and Derek sat up in the bed.
"When?"
"Two hours ago. A girl named Kristin Lewis. She was found in the same park as Molly Anderson." Sloan explained, as Derek listened intently. "We're sending someone over from the Paris House."
"Who?" Derek asked, heart dropping into his stomach. He already knew the answer.
"Natalya, Derek. We're sending Talya over. She's going to gain access to the Academy's ESP program and . . . "
"No." Derek interrupted, the sheer negation in his voice startling the man on the other end of the line.
"What, Derek?" he asked.
"You heard me William. You're not sending Natalya here, I won't allow it." Derek replied, standing up and moving to the window.
"This isn't your decision, Derek. Right now her legal guardian is Michael Samuelle and it's already been cleared with him. She's the best psychic we've got, and she's just about the age of the other victims. You need her help out there, Derek, and you know it." Sloan explained, but Derek refused to acknowledge.
"No, William. We'll find another way. You're not sending her here."
"It's too late, Derek." Sloan replied, "She's already on a plane. She'll arrive late this evening. I'm sorry, Derek, but I have to go. You have to pick her up at San Francisco International at 9:30 pm."
The conversation ended and Sloan hung up the phone. Enraged, Derek threw the earpiece against a nearby lamp and sat down on the bed. His worst fear was being realized. If anything ever happened to his daughter, he didn't know what he would do. Unable to lie down again he returned to the library to continue his search for the star symbol.
A loud buzzing awakened Derek from his fitful sleep. Looking at his clock he had surmised that the alarm wasn't going off when he realized the phone by the bed was ringing.
"Derek Rayne." He spoke, accent thickening from his sudden stress.
"Hello, Derek." The voice of William Sloan invaded his ear and Derek flinched at the volume.
"William, do you know what time it is?" Derek asked, exasperated.
"This is important, Derek. There's been another murder in San Francisco." He replied, and Derek sat up in the bed.
"When?"
"Two hours ago. A girl named Kristin Lewis. She was found in the same park as Molly Anderson." Sloan explained, as Derek listened intently. "We're sending someone over from the Paris House."
"Who?" Derek asked, heart dropping into his stomach. He already knew the answer.
"Natalya, Derek. We're sending Talya over. She's going to gain access to the Academy's ESP program and . . . "
"No." Derek interrupted, the sheer negation in his voice startling the man on the other end of the line.
"What, Derek?" he asked.
"You heard me William. You're not sending Natalya here, I won't allow it." Derek replied, standing up and moving to the window.
"This isn't your decision, Derek. Right now her legal guardian is Michael Samuelle and it's already been cleared with him. She's the best psychic we've got, and she's just about the age of the other victims. You need her help out there, Derek, and you know it." Sloan explained, but Derek refused to acknowledge.
"No, William. We'll find another way. You're not sending her here."
"It's too late, Derek." Sloan replied, "She's already on a plane. She'll arrive late this evening. I'm sorry, Derek, but I have to go. You have to pick her up at San Francisco International at 9:30 pm."
The conversation ended and Sloan hung up the phone. Enraged, Derek threw the earpiece against a nearby lamp and sat down on the bed. His worst fear was being realized. If anything ever happened to his daughter, he didn't know what he would do. Unable to lie down again he returned to the library to continue his search for the star symbol.