Murder Game

CHAPTER TEN

The three GhostWalkers waited patiently while Nico went to high ground, establishing a position where he could cover them all and give them the location and movement of as many guards as possible. The wind had picked up a little, coming in off the ocean, rustling the leaves in the trees and bringing with it the smell of sea and sand. The moon was a mere sliver, spilling very little light on the ground, although the night was clear and that meant stars were out in full force, illuminating more of the landscape than any of them wanted.

The estate was on five acres overlooking the ocean. A high privacy fence surrounded the beautifully landscaped lawns. Weeping willows formed graceful sentries around a shimmering pond where a low, arched bridge spanned the water, lending it a fairy tale quality. The house rose up with majestic grace, surrounded by balconies, columns and inviting porches. Masses of flower beds and carefully trimmed hedges led up the stamped walkways and surrounded the house itself. The estate looked the picture of elegance and tranquility.

From the outside, it was impossible to see the second set of fences where the guard dogs patrolled, or the artfully hidden cameras that were scattered around the grounds. At night laser beams crisscrossed the grounds along the walkways. Guards at the front gates were alert and visibly held guns cradled in their arms.

Kadan made certain to shield his team's presence from any other psychic in the vicinity, keeping the waves of energy close to him. He stood very still, his breathing slow and even, his heart rate normal, his mind calm. This was his world, and there was no anxiety in it for him, only a strong sense of purpose and resolve.

The air moved in and out of his lungs in perfect rhythm. This was when he was most alive-when he was hunting. He could inhale and scent information, sort through data with the same precision as a jungle cat. Men moved along the inside of the fence, staying within sight of the dogs, on alert for the slightest reaction from the canine guards. They patrolled the grounds, along the garage and house, making it difficult to keep the laser beams on. They turned them off while conducting a manual search and turned them back on when they left the area.

"In position," Nico's voice sounded in Kadan's ear.

Nico could shoot the wings off a butterfly if he had to, even in a high wind. Kadan had every confidence in the sniper.

Kadan pointed at Gator, and the Cajun instantly went to the ground, belly-crawling across the open space between their position and the first fence. They'd chosen the southernmost part of the estate as an entry point. From there, they had access to the helipad and garage, two places absolutely necessary to control if they were to succeed.

Gator made it across the rocky terrain, pushed through the saw grass and rolled up against the privacy fencing. He lay quiet, his mind reaching out until he found the dogs. There were eight of them. Big German shepherds. Intelligent. Well trained. They paced along the fence in strict formation, each dog so many feet apart from the next so they could complete the circuit of the property so many times per hour.

Gator's first touch was tentative, finding the leader of the pack. There was always one. The good handlers always recognized that fact and dealt with the most alpha of a dog team a little differently. Each dog was trained to make decisions, but none had been exposed to Gator's talent. He could influence animals fairly easily, matching his brain waves to theirs and bending the dogs to his will. In this case, he wanted no alarm raised as they went into the compound.

It took a few minutes to connect with the alpha, to find it in the midst of all the animals, each with its own personality. The moment he merged, Gator was in a different world. His sense of smell was instantly heightened a hundred times. He scented the individual guards, the squirrels in the trees, and even a rodent that had made a home in the nearby grass. Colors dimmed, the spectrum narrowing, so that his sight was altered.

He could see the grounds now, his connection with the alpha strengthening by the moment so that he was seeing what the dog saw as it paced in between the chain-link fences. The guards moved systematically over the yard in a typical sweep, making certain no one had penetrated the interior. The dog continued moving at a steady pace, alert and a little confused with Gator sharing his mind.

He calmed the animal, joined forces, and dominated, taking control and issuing orders. One by one he connected with each animal. They were not to give away, by sound or alertness, that a stranger slipped through their ranks. He was one of them. A member of the pack. They were to continue their patrol and alert only when told.

Once he was certain the dogs would obey him, Gator signaled to Kadan. "Green light"

Kadan had dressed for the occasion, his clothing reflective, his skin mirroring the color of the ground, and his equipment locked in place for quick use. Drawing his skintight hood over his hair, he made his way to the fence. It was about twenty feet high, straight up, no toe- or fingerholds. He studied it for a moment and then leapt high, catching with the pads of his fingers. He went up the smooth side easily, using his enormous upper body strength to climb, only the sticky pads of his fingers preventing him from falling.

"Guard twenty feet from your position. Hang tight," Nico reported.

Kadan clung to the side of the fence, his skin matching the darker tones, his clothes blending seamlessly. Even the hood mirrored the images around him, so he simply disappeared. The human eye couldn't spot him. The dogs knew he was there and reacted with a restless sidestepping, but Gator's outpouring of influence kept them from giving the Ghost-Walker's presence away.

"All clear. He went around the side of the building. Laser's down near the helipad. You have a go now," Nico murmured.

Kadan pulled himself to the top of the fence, changing skin color to match the surroundings as he took a quick look before he vaulted the double chain-link fences holding the dogs. He landed in a crouch, waited a heartbeat, and then began moving through the dense shrubbery, relying on Nico to be his eyes as he crossed to the back of the garage.

"Coming at you, thirty yards. Two guards and they know what they're doing."

Mercs. Kadan's lip curled as he sank down and went still. Fredrickson had blanketed the estate with mercenaries, and either Don and Sharon Meadows knew and approved, or they had gotten themselves into a mess they couldn't handle, but it was fairly difficult to hide the kind of men guarding the estate. Kadan watched through narrowed eyes as the two men covered the ground fast. Every now and then their gazes touched on the dogs pacing in the fences. The men's gazes shifted constantly, on the alert. Fredrickson definitely was expecting trouble.

One mare paused only a scant few feet from Kadan's hip, talking into his radio. "Everything is quiet, Boss. The dogs aren't showing signs of nerves."

"Keep everyone alert," a voice, probably Fredrickson's, snapped.

The two men rounded the corner of the garage and were out of Kadan's sight. He remained where he was, his breath moving through his lungs with a steady rhythm. A third man emerged from the garage, looked left and right, and then walked over to the chain-link fence to stare at the nearest dog. He muttered something, picked up a rock, and flung it through the open links. The rock hit the other side of the fence and the dog showed teeth. Kadan slipped the knife from his boot and waited.

"The son of a bitch is teasin' the dog," Gator complained, his voice a whisper in Kadan's ear. "Can Nico put a bullet in the bastard's head?"

"No," Kadan hissed firmly and eased his body out of the brush, his gaze on the man who now jabbed at the dog with a long stick. "We need complete silence."

"You kill him, Kadan, and our surprise is gone. I'll take him out after you get Fredrickson," Nico said, his voice cool and confident.

Kadan cursed under his breath. He wanted to do the bastard. He detested men who preyed on anything or anyone who couldn't fight back. Looking at the dog, with its snarl and bared teeth, he realized the dog just needed one moment for revenge. It was obvious this man tormented the dog on a regular basis.

Another time, buddy, he promised and sent the dog a silent apology before he began to inch his way across the yard. He was running out of time. The moment the guards moved their sweep to the other side of the estate, they'd be activating the lasers.

Nico whispered in his ear, letting him know when to move and when to be still. He made it to the edge of the shrubbery at the far side of the house, but it took several minutes of painstaking progress before he was clear of the laser field.

Kadan moved into the wide bed of flowers close to the house, looking up at his chosen point of entry. It was two stories up and Tansy's bedroom window. On this side, there were no balconies, and she often left the window open a couple of inches because she needed to feel freedom. Her hands, encased in gloves, always made her feel a prisoner, and she would slide her hands out the window and wave them in the night air. If he was lucky, no one would have remembered to lock her window, as she'd been gone so long.

"Now," Nico's voice whispered in his ear.

Kadan leapt up as high as he could, going from a crouch to a full extension and reaching high above his head. His finger pads caught and held, gluing him to the side of the house. Again his skin tone changed, taking on the hue of his background. He began to move upward in silence. Fredrickson was a GhostWalker and their strongest opponent. He had the ability to sense their presence, and they had no idea of his psychic talents. He had to be neutralized before a rescue could take place.

At a soft go from Nico, Ryland moved into position, penetrating on the opposite side of the grounds, to get through the laser fields as the guards swept that area. When he made it through the yard and neared the house, he would hold at his location waiting for Kadan's entry and the all clear, signaling Fredrickson was dead.

Kadan climbed to the window, anchored his body with one hand, and, as he carefully raised his body to peer over the sill, felt with the other for trips wires. His hearing was particularly acute, and he became aware of the faint hum that often accompanied a live wire. Fredrickson had not only known about the slightly raised window, he'd anticipated an entry and left it invitingly open that scant inch and a half, but had laid enough traps for ten mice.

"I'm going up, Nico. This is a trap."

"Two men on the roof," Nico reported. "One just above your position and one about ten feet to his right. Both look likes mercs. I can take them both, but Fredrickson will know."

Kadan had already begun his descent. "No. I'll get in."

"I can rile up the dog. We've still got the bastard guard poking at him with a stick," Gator offered. "Let me get the dog going and that will draw them to this side. Fredrickson will go on alert, but he'll want to know what's going on."

"That's a go."

Kadan could use the diversion. If he was lucky, once Fredrickson knew his own guard had screwed up, he'd send someone personally to chew the man up. And that meant a door open. He just had to be in the right place at the right time. Moving with the speed and precision of a spider in a web, Kadan chose a door on the side of the house close to where the guard was teasing the dog. He went down the wall headfirst, much like a gecko might, held by the sticky pads on his fingers and his enormous strength until he was hovering just above the door, in plain sight on the side of the building.

Within minutes the German shepherd went crazy, slamming into the chain-link fence, roaring a challenge, snarling and barking, hitting the fence repeatedly in an attempt to get to his cruel handler. The yard erupted with guards, men running, calling out to one another, rushing toward the fence. One caught the guard with stick in hand, still tinged with blood where he'd driven it into the dog's side. Lights burst on overhead, turning the grounds into daylight. Alarms shrieked as the lasers were set off.

Within a couple more minutes, enough time for the message to be relayed to Fredrickson, the door below Kadan burst open and a man went running out. Kadan swung his body through the opening, landing in a crouch inside, gun already out and tracking. From the drawings Tansy had provided, he knew this was an atrium that opened into the living room. Huge plants grew nearly wild, rising to the high ceilings, the mist kicking on automatically every few minutes to provide the atmosphere of a rain forest.

Kadan took his time. He was in enemy territory now. Not just any enemy, a GhostWalker who would feel the slightest change in the energy around him. Kadan could shield, but the closer he got to his prey, the more difficult it would become to do so. And he was close. Fredrickson was also a shielder-surprising, but it had to be true. That gift was somewhat rare, just as being an elite tracker was.

Kadan went to his belly again, green now, like the plants around him. Using his elbows to propel him forward, he slithered through the jungle of foliage to the edge of the glass. The atrium was huge, bringing the rain forest indoors. Completely glass, the room could be enclosed and kept separate from the rest of the house, or, with the double glass doors opened as they were, the sweeping, dramatic plants could become part of the enormous sunken great room.

Tansy had been raised in this opulent home. She'd lived there as if it was an ordinary, everyday house, probably taking the beauty and uniqueness for granted. Kadan had spent a lifetime on the streets, in foster homes and one-room apartments, before moving on to the military life of jungle, desert, and sea. What was he thinking? How could she go from this to what he could give her? The moment the thought entered, he pushed it away. Tansy had no place here. She couldn't screw him up any more than she'd already done by turning him inside out.

Kadan forced his mind back under control and slid through the doorway into the great room. Fredrickson was just ahead of him, staring impassively at Tansy's parents, who were sitting in two high-backed chairs, both with their hands tied behind their backs. Sharon Meadows was a small woman, very thin, with a wealth of blond hair. A bruise had formed just below one eye and there was swelling near her mouth. It didn't take a genius to figure out Fredrickson had used her to try to control Tansy. She wept silently, casting little glances at her husband, who looked as if he might have a stroke any moment.

"She's dead if they come in here," Fredrickson said to Don. "You'd better hope your daughter loves you both enough to give herself up without bringing help."

Sharon shook her head hard, but only sobbed louder.

Don bared his teeth and struggled to loosen his bonds. "You don't need to touch my wife. Tansy will come. You tell Whitney she'll come. There's no need for this."

Fredrickson shrugged. "We'll take her back, one way or the other. And we're doing you a favor. They know about her and she's marked. They'll kill her if they find her before we do."

"You keep saying 'they' as if that's supposed to scare me," Don hissed. "I don't believe that anyone wants her dead. Whitney made that up because he wants her back."

Kadan propelled himself forward on his belly over the smooth, rich marble floor, gun in one hand, knife in the other. He slid forward, inch by painstakingly slow inch. Each centimeter counted when he was out in the open and Fredrickson had only to turn his head. Kadan gathered his strength, his resolve, and he flowed from the floor, rising like a demon summoned from hell, hurtling the knife straight to his enemy's throat.

The knife buried all the way to the hilt. Fredrickson gurgled, eyes wide, one hand half rising in reflex, as if to examine the instrument of his death. He swayed and then toppled to the floor. Instantly Kadan felt the psychic shield come down and lethal energy flowing toward him. He spun, already diving in front of Tansy's mother, instincts screaming at him that she was the target. The bullet caught him higher than he'd have liked, slamming into his bulletproof vest like an explosive fist to his chest, half spinning him and driving him backward hard.

Sharon's high-pitched shriek hurt his ears nearly as much as the punch to his chest, but his gun hand was already up, finger squeezing the trigger, one, two, three, precise shots, dropping the second GhostWalker even as Kadan fell. Blood sprayed across the marble and spattered the walls. He saw the red droplets showering down as his body slammed hard into Sharon's, driving her chair over backward.

The blow to his chest had ripped the breath from his body, and it felt like every bone was broken, smashed beyond repair. For an instant, the edges of his vision blurred and then went black. He woke with rage and panic seconds later, his chest on fire, burning as if a hot iron was branding him, and Sharon screaming nonstop in his ear. He fought the need to rip his vest off and shut the woman up at the same time.

Movement caught his eye, and his legs still tangled with Tansy's mother, he rolled, the gun rock steady in his hand, instinct staying his finger on the trigger. Don Meadows froze from where he was trying to slither across the floor, his gaze fixed on the knife at Kadan's waist.

"I'll fucking put a bullet in your throat," Kadan warned, feeling deadly with his chest on fire, fighting for every breath. "Go, Gator," he managed to order into the radio while he extricated himself from the woman's flopping limbs.

Sharon's screams would draw everyone for miles. Calmly, Kadan pulled out an air syringe and pressed it against her neck. He didn't bother to untie her hands. The drug worked fast, halting her scream in mid-shriek so blessed silence fell.

"You bastard. What the hell have done to her?" Don demanded.

Kadan sent him one quelling look, and the man was smart enough to stop talking. Kadan's chest hurt like a bear, still painful with every breath he drew, but the fire was beginning to subside a bit. He still wanted to rip his vest off, along with the shooter's head. He pushed down his need to put another bullet in the dead man's head, most likely Watson's, and instead, he took care to insure the room was cleared of all enemies so he had only to contend with Tansy's parents.

"Any more guards in the house?"

"Most are outside. Several are on the roof."

"Then they'll be coming at us eventually. Are you going to give me trouble?" As a rule Kadan could read minds in close proximity, especially in a situation like this one where fear and anger were strong emotions, but Don Meadows had some kind of barrier that blocked his thoughts and emotions from escaping.

"Not if you're getting us out of here."

"Tansy sent me."

"She all right?"

Kadan liked him a little better for that. "She's fine." He slipped another knife from his belt and cut the tape binding Meadows's wrists. It was a calculated risk since he couldn't read the man's mind, but they had to move fast.

"Coming in." Ryland's voice floated over the radio.

"Come on then," Kadan replied in greeting. "Gator, you clearing a path for us?"

It wasn't difficult for Gator to scale the fence, using the prongs on his boots and the spikes on his gloves. He went up and over and then signaled to the dogs, stirring them up, commanding them to bark, to roar out challenges from every point in the yard while he sprinted for the helicopter pad. He'd just made it to cover, when the guards burst out into the open from every direction, lights once again flooding the compound. This time, the handlers released the dogs from the double fence and brought them leashed, searching for enemies on the grounds.

Gator did a hasty job of planting the explosives, first on the helipad, more on the helicopter, a third along the fence just beyond the pad. He used the blurring speed of the enhanced GhostWalker, cutting through the acreage to get to the opposite side of the estate, throwing voices as he sprinted, disrupting the dogs so they went crazy, howling and barking, raging at their handlers, so that chaos erupted in several hot spots, keeping guards running in every direction but toward Gator or the house.

A guard on the roof must have spotted him, because Nico's gun boomed and the man nearly toppled at Gator's feet. Gator kept running. A second shot rang out, and he caught a glimpse of a man falling from the roof to a balcony. The Cajun didn't hesitate; he put on a burst of speed and zigzagged, just to keep the odds in his favor.

"Thanks, man."

"No problem." Nico sounded the same. Matter-of-fact.

It took Gator several minutes to get to the opposite fence, two acres from the helipad, and even he was a bit out of breath after his run. Whipping out a can, he sprayed an entire section of all three fences. A man shouted hoarsely at him, but Gator kept spraying and didn't turn when Nico's rifle coughed up another kill.

"Where are you?" Ryland's voice buzzed in his ear.

"Heading for the garage," Gator answered and whirled back to make another run. This time he was going to have to first get through the ranks of guards and then enter the garage, where Nico would no longer be able to help him.

He drew two guns and headed for the garage. The guards were gearing up to make a move on the house, knowing through radio silence that their bosses were most likely dead. They were between him and the garage, and he had to get to the Humvee. "I'm on the move now."

The moment Kadan heard Gator was making a break for the garage, he skirted around the woman on the floor and pulled two guns from his belt. "Search him, Rye."

He didn't look back, but broke out of the house on the run, firing relentlessly, choosing his targets as he cleared a path to protect Gator. He could hear Nico's rifle and the resounding crash of Gator's guns as they joined in the fight.

"I'm in." Gator's voice was a little out of breath. He swore. There was more gunfire and then he spoke again. "Son of a bitch, get out of my ride." More gunfire came from the vicinity of the garage. "It's an original, and man, she's a beaut."

Kadan gave a small sigh of relief. The intel on the vehicle had been hastily researched, and Tansy hadn't paid attention to it, she'd never even ridden in it. Don Meadows had the real deal, the military-issue, four-wheel drive, high-mobility, armor-plated, go-over-and-through-anything vehicle. And they were going to need it.

"Blow the helicopter," Kadan ordered.

Instantly the aircraft lifted into the air, exploded into several large pieces, and settled back down in a fiery orange and black cauldron of flames. The explosion had the desired effect of sending the guards scurrying toward the ocean side of the property.

Kadan counted to thirty and gave the next order. "Take out the helipad."

The second explosion rocked the estate. Smoke billowed into the air along with a tower of flames.

Kadan retreated to the doorway of the house. Ryland would have to pack Sharon out on his shoulder, but Don… now, Don was another matter. Kadan didn't trust him. He had to have some psychic ability to have such a natural barrier in his head. Given a psychic talent and his longstanding friendship with Whitney, Kadan didn't trust the man any further than he could throw him.

Ryland came up behind him, gun out, Sharon draped over his shoulder. Don had been herded in front of the Ghost-Walker and was clearly unhappy.

"I can carry my wife."

Kadan turned cool eyes on him. "You can be quiet or you'll go out the same way she's going out."

Meadows flushed. Kadan doubted anyone ever talked to him like that. As a future son-in-law, he wasn't racking up the points, but he didn't really give a damn.

"At least give me a gun to defend us," Don demanded.

Kadan swung around, drawing the air syringe from his pack and slapping another liquid cartridge into it.

Don held up both hands and backed up. "I'll be quiet. Seriously, you don't need that."

Kadan ignored him, turning back just as the Humvee burst out of the garage and bounced over the flower beds. The few remaining guards scattered, dogs roared, and the vehicle slid sideways to the atrium door.

"Blow the back fence," Kadan ordered calmly as he stepped back jerked Don out of the line of gunfire, and shoved Tansy's father behind him.

The third explosion shook the house again.

"Go, Rye," Kadan ordered, calmly shooting two men who were aiming at Gator. Nico's rifle barked at the same time, and the bodies jerked twice as they went down.

Nico was firing steadily now, providing cover as Rye ran, Sharon's limp body bouncing like a rag doll against his back. He slung her into the waiting vehicle and took up a position to cover Kadan and Don.

"Let's go," Kadan said. "Make a run and dive inside. Get on the floor and cover your wife's body."

To his credit, Don didn't hesitate. He looked neither right nor left; he just took off sprinting, leaping for the open door and draping his body over Sharon's.

"Get out, Nico," Kadan ordered. "Go, Gator."

The Humvee lurched forward and then picked up speed.

A guard rose up on the driver's side, sighting down his barrel at Gator. A red hole blossomed where his left eye had been just as Kadan put one in his chest.

"Nico," Kadan said, reprimanding him.

"I'm out," Nico confirmed. "Catch you at the rendezvous point."

"Did you get the tracking device, Gator?" Kadan asked.

"Dismantled," Gator said, his eyes on the fence looming ahead of them. The double chain-link with the privacy fence just beyond it. He kept his foot on the gas, building up their speed.

Don Meadows lifted his head trying to peer out, saw the fence coming at them. "Stop!"

Kadan's boot found the back of his neck and shoved him low as the front of the vehicle hit the chain, weakened by the acid bath Gator had provided. The Humvee tore through the second fence and struck the third at full throttle. The splintering crash was loud as the boards gave way and the vehicle passed through unscathed.

Gator had a map of the rough terrain imprinted in his head. The property backed up to the steep canyons. The dense foliage and trees would provide them with cover as they made their way to the safe house. The Humvee went up and over a slope and down the other side, and they were dropping off the earth, with mountain peaks rising above them and wilderness surrounding them.

Kadan took his boot off Don Meadows's neck and indicated for him to get in the seat. "Get your wife strapped in so she doesn't get hurt."

Meadows glanced out the window and then around at the three grim-faced men. The Humvee bounced over rocks and brush, and although Gator had slowed considerably, the motion was intense, jostling the passengers, throwing them from side to side and up toward the roof. Don reached down, his grip gentle, to turn Sharon over and up into his arms. Ryland and Kadan were guarding each side of the vehicle, guns out, waiting for signs of pursuit.

"Nico should be coming at us anytime," Gator called, slowing more. He turned the wheel hard to his right, the wheel jerking violently as they went up and over a series of rocks and then dropped down a brush-covered slope into a creek bed.

"Movement to the right," Ryland reported.

"Hold your fire," Kadan cautioned. "Nico? Are you seeing us?"

Static was the only answer.

"Incoming," Ryland announced.

Don automatically covered his wife, trying to press her limp body against the seat as tightly as he could.

Gator took the Humvee into a fairly thick stand of heavy brush, smashing through leaves and branches while Kadan shifted to the right. A four-wheel-drive Jeep burst through the trees, coming at them fast. Kadan calmly fired three shots through the window at the driver while Ryland took out the passenger with a head shot. The driver slumped to one side, and the Jeep hit a rock and bounced into the air, crashed down, and hit a tree, coming to a stop. Gator drove a few yards deeper into the brush and once again made a hard right to try to get to the point where Nico should have been waiting.

He brought the vehicle to a stop, and Kadan signaled to Ryland to watch their packages, while he yanked open the door and leapt out, running low along the ground, his skin changing, his clothing reflecting the surrounding brush. He went up the slope, leaping over downed, rotting tree trunks and a few brambles to land back on a narrow trail.

He could hear the sound of a small motorcycle and knew Nico was in full retreat. Behind him came another much larger engine and the sound of gunfire. Nico was trying to lead them away from the Humvee.

"Bring them to me," Kadan ordered, hoping the command got through to Nico.

The canyon was steep, narrow, and covered in dense shrubs and trees. Nico had to be taking a beating on the small bike as he tore through the underbrush without protection. The whine of the engine grew louder as Nico seemed to circle back toward him. Then he burst through the bushes just a foot or so from Kadan, his face and arms covered in angry scratches, bleeding from a hundred tears in his skin. He abandoned the bike, leaping off it and rolling into the brush while it was still moving forward, his rifle protected by his body.

Nico came up on one knee, the butt of the rifle fitting snugly against his shoulder as he sought a target. Kadan looked him over once to ensure none of the wounds were too bad; most looked like brambles had ripped the sniper up as he traveled through the brush. Then the pursuing truck topped the slope and bounced over it. The guards in the back were thrown from side to side, making the shots difficult.

Nico, of course, had no problems taking out the marksman steadying his rifle, but Kadan's first bullet took the man behind the shooter high in the shoulder, spun him around, and knocked him out of the truck. He was still moving, and Kadan had no choice but to waste a second shot, giving the third guard a chance to get off a shot. The bullet whistled past Kadan's face, and he felt the burn along his cheek, although it never touched him.

Nico's rifle bucked again and the shooter went down. Kadan took out the driver and without a word, the two Ghost-Walkers raced back toward the Humvee. Ryland threw the doors open and they climbed in. Gator gunned the engine and they were on the move.

"You look a little worse for wear," Nico said in greeting. 'That woman of yours is going to get all mushy over you."

Kadan didn't change expression or look at Tansy's father, but inside, his heart did a peculiar little flip. No one had ever had a mushy reaction to a few wounds on him. Would she? Even with her parents present? He hadn't considered that. The thought warmed him a little. He didn't want to think about her when he was working. She had no place in this part of his life. He was born to fight, born to kill, and someone as compassionate as Tansy would never understand the need and desire that drove him to take on the assignments he did-or maybe he was wrong. Maybe that same desire was in her-that thirteen-year-old girl offering herself as a sacrifice in order to track evil-maybe the need simply manifested itself differently.

He wiped his hand across his face and was surprised when it came back smeared with blood. He didn't even know whose blood he wore, only that he was going back to her covered in it. He seemed to spend a lot of his time with blood on his skin.

Ryland prodded him with his boot. "You've got a hole in your shirt. You hurt?"

Don Meadows cleared his throat. "He took a bullet when Fredrickson tried to kill my wife. They said if there was a rescue, they'd kill her and they meant it."

"Fredrickson was an idiot. He should have taken me out first and then killed her" Kadan said, shrugging his shoulders. It was what he would have done if the situation had been reversed. Take out the bad ass and then do your work.

Nico handed him a bottle of water from his pack. "Drink up, man, you look like you could use it."

He must look worse than he'd thought for Nico, the one covered in raw scratches, to point out that he looked bad. He took the bottle and downed half of it in one swallow.

"Who are you?" Don asked. "Where's my daughter?"

"She's safe. I've got a couple of good men guarding her."

"Guarding her, or keeping her prisoner?"

Kadan thought that over. She had no access to a phone. Ian and Tucker had orders to keep her close. She couldn't leave, and if things went wrong, they would forcibly remove her to a safer location. Technically, he supposed, she was a prisoner. He didn't bother to reply. Damn if he'd explain himself to this man.

He shifted his gaze, let it drift over Meadows. The man was in good shape, strong, fit, intelligence in his eyes. He was thinking, assessing the situation, and Kadan bet the man knew where every weapon in the Humvee was. Meadows also read accurately that any of the GhostWalkers was likely to kill him before he ever got off a move.

"What did you give my wife?"

Kadan glanced down at the sleeping woman. She looked very fragile, her pale face covered with bruises and her mouth swollen. She'd probably have a few more bruises where Kadan had slammed into her.

"She'll wake up in a few minutes, before we get to the house" Kadan assured him. "A little headache maybe and very thirsty, but she'll be fine." He reached over and sliced the tape binding Sharon's wrists. Her skin was swollen and raw.

"Who sent you?"

"Tansy"

That surprised Meadows. He blinked, but kept the same expression. He looked the way Kadan had seen so many in his position look before. Superior. Waiting to take charge. Angry at the loss of control.

Kadan fished in the small pack at his belt and came out with small tube of salve. He tossed it to Don. "Put that on your wife's wrists. It should help." He kept his eyes on the man's face. "You have some psychic ability, don't you?"

Ryland and Nico both turned to look at Don. Even Gator took his eyes off the faint ribbon of a creek bed he was following to look in the rearview mirror.

For one moment Don's eyes went hard and sharp, then he frowned and shook his head. "I don't know what you're talking about."

So it was going to be like that. Kadan kept his sigh to himself. It was no surprise, but he'd hoped for a different outcome. He shrugged his shoulders and kept silent as they bounced through the canyon toward their destination.