I woke again, several hours later, to find the bed empty beside me. Dejected as to the fact there was no Rob to cuddle, or at the very least a warm imprint of his body to cuddle into, I rolled out of bed and descended the stairs. As I staggered down, I caught sight of said boyfriend slumped over the newspaper at the kitchen table, nursing a cup of coffee. At this sight I had to smile, for Rob was dressed the same way he had been when I had last seen him. That is: topless, dressed only in low riding grey trackpants. And let me take this opportunity to mention, my boy is CUT! As I smiled, my face seemed tight, and, sure enough, when I raised a hand to touch my cheek, I found my face streaked with tears. Way to make a sexy impression on exquisite male Jess, I told myself. I tried to back up and return to our bedroom in order to tidy myself up, but it was too late to escape; Rob had seen me. He caught my eye and smiled, one of those smiles which made my heart melt and race at the same time, made me wonder whether I was perhaps not as dishevelled as I thought after all, whether perhaps I was truly beautiful. My feet came into their own, and I found myself gravitating towards that stunner of a smile.

'Hey you,' he said, his voice sleepy and gravely, sexy as could be.

I slunk towards his chair, and as I bent to kiss him he grabbed me and pulled me, tumbling down into his lap, laughing. I nestled into his chest, and he looped his arms round me.

'Feeling better?' he asked, mouth buried into my hair. 'Wanna tell me about it?'

'Not particularly.' I murmured into him, but I continued nevertheless. I explained to him the dream, and the explanation was in great detail, for, to my intense dismay, I could still see the dream as though it were happening all over again every time I closed my eyes.

By the time I had finished, I was sobbing again, and Rob's naked chest was slick with my tears.

'Okay, you,' Rob whispered, 'I think we need to let Dr. Krantz know about this.'

And so with a final hug, I pulled myself off Rob and grabbed the telephone. I sat down on the living room couch, and dialled in Cyrus' number. But then I hesitated.

Unable to meet his eyes, incredibly embarrassed, I murmured, barely audibly 'Rob?' I felt like an idiot, 'Hold me?'

To my surprise, Rob didn't laugh or complain, but only replied 'Coming.' and rose from the table, leaving his newspaper and coffee behind. He folded his body around mine on the couch and once we were comfortable, I pressed the call button.

Cyrus picked up almost immediately with 'Jessica? Any news on the case?'

'Well, hello and how are you to you too. Nice to know your caller ID is in perfect working order.'

'Yes, Jessica, very amusing. What is it you have to tell me?'

I explained my dream for the second time that morning, and Krantz listened patiently down the phone.

'But you didn't get an exact location?'

'No. I'm sorry.' I was on the verge of crying again, but Rob's thumbs reached up and wiped away the tears forming in my eyes. 'I just… I don't know where I was.' I concluded, resignedly. 'I'm sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me… this has never… I mean, I didn't mean to… I didn't expect…'

I could hear Krantz sigh. 'Actually, Jessica, this is more my fault than yours. I haven't been completely honest with you. The children who have been kidnapped, they're… well… special.'

I wrinkled my nose. 'How? And… so? At the risk of sounding childish and immature, not to mention rude, how does that affect me?'

'Well… here's the thing. You must have realised you're not the only person with… supernatural powers?'

Even to me, who had not spent a great amount of time thinking about others in my situation (okay, just about none) it was obvious that others must be in my situation. If it could happen to me, it could, and would, affect others. 'Of course.'

'Well, some years ago, the FBI had a group of employees who were close. Friends. And one cold winter night they all went out together.'

'And, let me guess, got struck by lightning.'

'Well…no. Not quite. They walked across a frozen lake, and in the middle, the ice was weak. And when they walked on it, their weight destroyed it. They fell through into the freezing cold water. Nobody found them for a week, as they had not told anyone where they were, and with ice covering much of he lake, nobody saw them. The next weekend, when the ice defrosted, they were spotted. And, contrary to anything expected, or even hoped, they were not dead. They were not even frostbitten. They were simply lying on their backs in a circle, all seven of them holding hands. When they were pulled out, they were awake, talking coherently and aware of their situation.'

'Amazing.' I contributed. But I still couldn't work out what it had to do with me.

'Yes,' continued Krantz. 'A medical mystery, everyone said. Not a mark on them. But they had changed. Dramatically. Two weeks later, when they returned to work, they let their superiors know that they had developed… powers. Yes. Supernatural powers.'

'Ahhhh,' realisation hit me.

'Some of them not unlike your own. There was a range of different talents. One, I believe, could communicate telepathically, another move things with his mind. Two could read minds. One could see through inanimate objects, such as walls or tables, while his girlfriend could move through them, and could take others with her if she was touching them. The last? Located missing people in his sleep. He's our current Head of the FBI.'

I gasped, and felt Rob's arms tighten around me.

'Which,' Cyrus continued, 'May be why the FBI were-are-so interested in you.'

'Why… Why have I not heard about these people before?'

'They handled their powers better than you. They didn't enter into using them rashly; they went straight to the FBI. And, knowing we could use them, the FBI didn't let anyone know. They kept them secret, and they… tested them. Found out what they could do.

Of course, you must understand that this was 30 odd years ago, and the agents were young. They were our first Special Ops division. And for a few years they had very little to do except practice. But then, in 1974, when the agents were all about 25, an assignment was found for them.

'America was losing the Vietnam War, and we all knew it. So they sent the Special Ops team in as a last ditch attempt to turn things around. They did all they could, and were probably the most diligent, overworked unit in the American Army. But there was a problem. The Americans were swollen-headed. They believed they were superior. They never even considered that Ho Chi Minh could have tricks up his sleeve as well. Within days of our Special Operations soldiers beginning to fight, Vietnam sent in their own Special Operations force, whose entire aim was to combat ours. Their team was perhaps four times as large as America's. They succeeded, and on April 30th, 1975, America was beaten, and control of Vietnam was handed over to Ho Chi Minh. Our soldiers came back defeated.

'For the next twenty years the Special Operations Unit kept working. They helped America fight and win some very important battles. But eventually, they all retired from the unit and moved to desk jobs or left the FBI. America's Special Ops unit fell apart. But we don't think Vietnam's did. The members of our division settled down, got married, began to raise families. For the past ten years or so they've been fairly inactive, and there have been no problems. Until the past month. Five of the seven operatives have had one of their children go missing. And there is no way it's a coincidence. We think the Vietnamese Special Ops division is behind it.'