Mind Games Read Online Free Page A

you.” Packard slides into the booth, and Shelby sits next to him, toying with a swizzle straw. He indicates the seat across from them. “Please—”
    I sit near the edge.
    “I know what it took to confront Foley last night. You have a strong interest in helping victims, just as many of us do. But your unnatural abundance of fear is ruining your life, and eventually it will drive you insane. Literally. But to us, your fear is a power.” I start toprotest, but Packard holds up a hand. “Imagine if you could channel all that fear out of yourself. Free yourself of it completely.”
    I consider this a moment. “That could be helpful.”
    “You would simply channel your fear into victimizers. You’d weaponize it.”
    “Weaponize it? Like, attack people with it?”
    “Yes.” He gazes brightly, like he’s a little bit on fire with his mad scheme. “You know how some people hire a hit man to kill an enemy? We’re like a squad of hitters, only we don’t kill people. We
disillusion
them. We’re a psychological hit squad. We’ve needed somebody in health anxieties for some time.”
    I choke back a chortle. “I’m sorry; that is just so out of the realm of what I’d ever do.”
    Carter returns and sets down a bread basket and a steaming plate of kebabs and disappears again.
    Packard places a napkin on his lap. “Typically, crime victims or their families hire us. Please, help yourself.” He places a tomato wedge on a piece of French bread. “I use my psychological vision to assess the target. Then I put together a team to disillusion the target on emotional, mental, and other levels.” He seems like such a maniac at this moment, it’s hard to imagine parents ever caring for him, combing his hair, bandaging his knees.
    “So somebody hired you to disillusion Foley?”
    “Recent victims. And soon they will enjoy a feeling of resolution they simply can’t get from seeing Foley dead or in prison. They’ll get to see him broken down and repentant, and he’ll get to build back better. Disillusionment creates a profound change of heart.”
    “Like rebooting computer.” Shelby inspects a zucchini slice. “Disillusionment crashes and reboots people.”
    “That seems a bit …” I’m at a loss how to finish.
    “It’s not Foley we need you for, of course,” Packard continues. “We need your help for other targets.”
    “It doesn’t even make sense. A hypochondriac attack is unpleasant, but not disillusioning.”
    Packard seems pleased with my question. “Do you know how they demolish a building?”
    “Explosives.”
    “Right. But they don’t toss bombs at it, do they? A demolition expert uses X-rays to find lines of weakness. The weak spots tell him where to put the dynamite. I look at a person as a demolition expert would. I see what they’re made of. Their strengths and weaknesses. I see how to bring them crashing down. And health anxiety is a tool I need in my toolbox.” He wipes his hands, eyes sparkling. I’ve never met a man so full of confidence and charisma. “You’re right that hypochondria attacks alone won’t crash a person, but they will weaken one in preparation for more powerful disillusionists. About ten percent of people have some exploitable anxiety about their health. Did you know that? One out of ten is a hypochondriac. Most manage to hide it.” Packard flicks a match and lights the candle on our table. “Of course, not everybody can be disillusioned—”
    “Let me stop you right here,” I say. “This is all interesting, but getting rid of my fear by dumping it into other human beings … I’m not that kind of person. Even if the process could help me—”
    “The process won’t merely help you; it’ll save you. From institutionalization and an early death. Deep down, you must know that’s where you’re headed.”
    Our eyes meet. The candlelight adds rosy depth to the mannish angles of his face. “I know no such thing.”
    “Does it get worse every year?”
    I