Samurai Game

CHAPTER 7

Sam struggled into a sitting position, his lungs screaming for air, sweat dripping down his face into his eyes. He threw an arm over his stinging eyes and took a deep breath, fighting for air. Blood thundered in his ears and his throat felt swollen and raw. He swore and shoved at the damp, springing curls spilling onto his forehead. He was never going to sleep again, that much was clear.

He’d seen a lot of really ugly things in his life, but his nightmares of torturing children-little girls-horrified him. He could never get to the child, no matter how hard he tried. He woke exhausted, in a panic, bile rising, every muscle in his body tight with tension and his mind in chaotic horror for the small child.

“What is it, Sam?” Lily Whitney-Miller asked. She handed him a damp washcloth. “You aren’t sleeping more than a couple minutes at a time and you wake up like this. Your pulse rate is out of control. Can you tell me what’s happening? You’ve been like this for nearly seventy-two hours.”

He swallowed down another curse, took the cool cloth and rubbed his face, breathing in and out to regain some semblance of control. “Nightmares. They’re bad, Lily. I’ve never had anything like this in my life.”

“What kinds of things are you dreaming about?”

“Doctors torturing children-little girls.” He cleared his throat to manage an intelligent sound. “Operating unnecessarily on them, Lily. Over and over.” He was going to keep to himself that the “little girls” was always specifically one girl-Azami. He couldn’t close his eyes without seeing that child being dissected without anesthesia.

Lily frowned, her brows drawing together. “Forgive me for bringing this up, Sam, but prior to the general and his wife fostering you, you lived in a very abusive household. Perhaps you had nightmares as a child and the trauma you suffered is re-creating the memories.”

“What trauma?” He was genuinely puzzled. The only trauma he’d suffered was the damn nightmare.

“Sam.” Lily’s voice dropped low. Her doctor-to-patient voice made him wince. “You were shot. You were forced to kill several men in order to protect our guests. I think that’s trauma enough for anyone to produce such nightmares.”

He shook his head. “No way. I’ve been shot, stabbed, and I’ve killed. Hell, Lily. How many times have you patched me up? You know I’ve never had anything like this before. I’m afraid to close my eyes.”

“Any soldier can start exhibiting PTSD at any time,” she reminded, her voice gentle.

Sam shook his head. “It isn’t that, Lily. I probably should be more bothered by the things I’ve had to do than I am. We’ve talked about it many times. I feel I have the right to defend myself. In any case, I believe in what I’m doing. This isn’t PTSD.”

“When did the nightmares start?”

He shrugged, reluctant to continue talking on the subject. He wanted to ask where Azami was. She was on his mind every moment, yet he was afraid now that they were back in the real world, she would reject him completely.

“It’s important, Sam. I need to know.”

He sighed and scrubbed back the hair tumbling on his forehead with both hands. It was nearly impossible to refuse Lily when she used that tone. She’d become like a sister to all the men when she wasn’t “mothering” them. “In the operating room. The nightmares started in the operating room.”

“Tell me about them.”

He shrugged. “They’re nightmares, Lily-like a horror movie unfolding. An insane doctor is operating on a little girl over and over without anesthesia. Other terrible experiments as well, all with the same child. I’m not into horror films, but I swear this was a mad scientist taking apart people alive just to see what made them tick.” Belligerence had crept into his voice. He felt like a little kid admitting to his mommy he was afraid of the closet monster.

Lily looked even more concerned. “You’ve been operated on before, Sam. Has this happened before? Nightmares? Anything like this, maybe on a lesser scale?”

“What difference does it make?” He was sick of talking about it, sick of thinking about it, afraid he’d never get those images of horror out of his mind.

“You were given second-generation Zenith. I need to know if it has side effects. And it’s important to always document any problems with anesthesia. It helps me to be better in the field. All four GhostWalker teams share information. We want to be able to set up surgery in minutes and give the best possible care right on the spot. Sometimes-such as in your case-minutes count.”

That made sense. Lily made perfect sense, and he was all over the place. He needed sleep, but most of all he needed to know that Azami was still close and that she was all right. Lily had just given him the perfect reason to ask about Azami and the second-generation Zenith-why she would have it, how she got it-but he wasn’t ready to find out if his betrayal of her abilities to Ryland had led to any harm to her.

“No, Lily, I’ve never had nightmares like this before in my life.” He was careful to keep from looking at her. “Doctors operating on children without anesthesia? No way. I never imagined my mind could go there.”

Lily pulled up a chair and sat rather gingerly as if her leg was hurting her. She always walked with a limp, but Sam had never asked her why. Too much time had passed and he thought it would upset her. She always acted as if she didn’t notice her limp, but once, someone had mentioned it and for a moment, her confidence had vanished and she looked like a young girl, very unsure of herself. Sam, as well as the others on his team, had felt instantly protective of her when she’d revealed that small vulnerability.

She let out a small sigh of relief. “In some ways, your nightmares make sense, Sam. You were operated on in the field and just before I went into the tent, Azami asked me if we were going to operate on you without anesthesia. I thought it was a strange question, but if she was worried about it, you could have been as well. In any case, you very well could have overheard her comment and it stayed in your subconscious. You fought going under. We had a difficult time with you at first.”

Lily’s explanation was more than reasonable, but it didn’t make the nightmares any less intense. He definitely wasn’t going back to sleep, but he nodded to reassure her. Lily mothered all of them, although she was younger than many of them. He always enjoyed his conversations with her-she was extremely intelligent and he appreciated the mental stimulation when they had discussions. He didn’t like worrying her.

“You look tired, Lily. Were you up all night with me again or with Daniel?” Her son was a constant source of amusement-and worry-to all of them. He was highly intelligent, active, inquisitive, and able to find clever ways to elude capture when he escaped. He often was most active at night-and impossible to see if he didn’t want to be seen.

Still, he was the joy in all of their lives. Daniel represented hope to them. He loved nothing more than spending time with each of his “uncles.” Each “uncle” knew the compound had to be secure-that Whitney would do anything to get his hands on one of the babies born to a GhostWalker. More than anything else, the GhostWalkers protected Daniel and his mother.

“My beloved child escaped again last night. I hope you know all of you have contributed to his delinquency-and he’s not a year old yet.”

Sam tried to look innocent. “False accusations.” He pressed his hand over his heart. “How can you say such things?”

“Maybe catching you teaching him to climb and Jonas showing him how to pick a lock might have something to do with it, although I suppose I should be grateful Jonas didn’t teach him the art of throwing knives.”

“That’s next year. Where did he go this time?”

“He found his way into the tunnels. Don’t ask me how.”

Sam burst out laughing. He loved the baby, as did all the men. They took turns watching him while Lily did research and generally worked her butt off for them. Unfortunately, Daniel was so advanced that they often forgot they were talking to an infant and stimulated his mind into behavior Lily didn’t approve of.

“Ryland says if it wasn’t so dangerous to do it, he’d microchip him so he’d know where he was at all times,” Lily admitted, laughing with him.

Sam rubbed at the bridge of his nose. “I suppose since Whitney put microchips in all the girls he experimented on, no one wants that for the babies, although we’d be able to track them if someone got their hands on one. In San Francisco, it was a very near miss with Kane and Rose’s child.”

“I know.” Lily sighed softly, sobering at the mention of her father. “We’re trying to come up with alternatives. The thing is, if we had a way to track any child he kidnaps, it would be safer, but if Whitney manages to put another spy in place and finds out, he conceivably could use a microchip against us.”

“When did Whitney start placing microchips in the girls he experimented on? At what age?”

Lily shook her head. “I didn’t find any data on that yet. We have to be careful sneaking into his computer. Our Flame here-and now Jaimie out in San Francisco-handles gathering information and then we sort through whatever we managed to get. It’s a slow process, because we don’t want him to get suspicious. Still…” She trailed off shaking her head.

Sam studied her face. “Lily, honey, you can talk to me. You’re upset about something. Is it Daniel? I know he’s extremely active, but he’s really an amazing boy.” He patted her hand. “I know cribs and playpens don’t hold him and he can get out of anything, but he’s loving and sweet and so intelligent.”

“I’ve taught him sign language, as his speech skills won’t really develop for another few months-at least they shouldn’t. But he signed to me, unless I’m reading him wrong, that he has an imaginary friend who plays with him.”

Sam was alarmed at the little hitch in her voice. She sounded close to tears.

“They play games like hide-and-seek. So I guess he thinks he’s playing with this friend when he’s hiding from us.”

She blinked rapidly as if staving off tears and Sam’s heart thudded. Lily rarely showed vulnerabilities, and when she did, it was heart-wrenching.

“I don’t know that much about children, Sam. It isn’t easy having a superchild for a first child. I read and research, but there’s no manual. The one thing I do know is that Daniel should be happy and fulfilled by his parents without needing an imaginary friend.”

“Lily.” His voice dropped into a soothing cadence. “You have to know you’re a good mother.”

She shook her head. “I didn’t exactly have a childhood like other children, Sam. My father is Peter Whitney. The girls I thought were my sisters were taken away and used for experiments. I was an experiment. I was isolated a good deal of my childhood. Truthfully, all the parenting classes in the world aren’t going to help me. Why would Daniel need an imaginary friend at his age? I provide him with all kinds of stimuli, both mental and physical. Ryland and I hold him all the time and love on him. All of you shower him with attention so it just doesn’t make sense.”

Sam hated to hear the pain in her voice. If it wasn’t for Lily, all of the GhostWalkers would be in terrible trouble. She’d shared her enormous wealth with them. She provided health care and, more important, exercises and ways to help those who were without filters to live in a world without an anchor close to them. She continued to research and work to find ways to help them overcome all the obstacles they faced with their enhancements, as well as learning to perfect using psychic talents. More than all of that, Lily was a genuine, loving person with exceptional values. He loved her like the sister he’d never had.

Along with all of the things Lily did for all four teams of GhostWalkers, she was trying to learn to be a mother of a child with special gifts. Daniel was physically and mentally advanced and yet still really an infant. There were no guides for such a child.

“Have you spoken with Briony about Daniel’s ‘friend’? Maybe her twins do something similar.” Briony was married to Jack Norton, a member of GhostWalker Team Two.

Lily shook her head. “Jeremiah and Noah are a bit younger than Daniel. He’s nine months now and already walking and climbing. They aren’t far behind him either, from what I’ve seen. You know we get them together often because they seem to want to be together. Daniel often asks me to visit with them. At least their playdates wear them out.”

“Ryland told us a while back that you think they all have a secret language.”

Lily frowned again, nodding her head. “I think they’re all telepathic and they communicate silently, but they do have some kind of language built on sound. They definitely have a strong bond. When we were in San Francisco for Rose and Kane’s wedding, even though their child was just a few weeks old, the boys all were very interested and clearly tried to communicate with him.”

“That’s reasonable, Lily,” Sam pointed out. “You’re a strong telepath, Ryland is as well, and Jack and Ken Norton have been communicating telepathically with one another since they were small children, just like Daniel appears to be doing.”

She pressed her lips together, clearly still a little worried. “That’s true, and it all makes sense, of course. We suspected Daniel and the twins would be extremely gifted, but they’re infants. It makes it difficult to know what to do with them.”

“The boys are very happy,” he said. “I think that’s the most important thing. And because they’re intelligent, you can explain early why we take so many safety precautions with them.” He flashed her a small, teasing grin. “That way, when your husband barks out his orders, Daniel won’t want to rebel.”

Her return smile was a little reluctant. “Daniel already has that man’s number. With our son, he’s all bark and no bite.”

“Did I hear a rumor that someone else is pregnant?” Sam asked.

Lily glanced toward the door. Sam’s heart gave a strange little jerk. Was she worried about strangers overhearing what she might say? Did that mean Azami was still in the compound? She hadn’t come to see him yet-at least not that he remembered. He was fairly certain Lily had knocked him out to force him to rest.

“Mari, Ken’s wife, is pregnant. She’s having complications and I’ve put her on bed rest. She’s definitely carrying twins, which doesn’t surprise me. Her husband is a twin and they come from a long line of twins. She’s a twin as well. They’re keeping the pregnancy under wraps. They don’t need the added stress on her of Whitney trying to acquire her while she’s pregnant. She can’t fight. She shouldn’t get up at all, not if she wants to carry, so if there’s an attack on the compound, she’d be in real trouble. I’ve reinforced her cervix, but carrying the weight of twins, I don’t know. Obviously, I’m not an OB, but Ken and Jack thought it important to keep the news in the family for now. If her pregnancy gets any more complicated, we’ll bring an OB in. After it turned out Eric was working for Whitney, I just don’t trust any outsider now.”

“You take on a lot of problems with all of us, Lily,” Sam said.

“I never had a family, not a real one. Neither did Mari, or Flame, or any of the girls. You’re my family now. I worry about all of you. Flame’s cancer is still in remission and I hope we keep it there, but I still haven’t fully been able to help Nico’s wife, Dahlia, or Tansy, Kadan’s wife. She still has to wear gloves when she touches anything, and Dahlia occasionally slips up and starts fires.” She pushed both hands through her hair. “My father did a lot of damage to a lot of people.”

“It isn’t your responsibility to fix everything, Lily,” Sam pointed out. “No one blames you. I hope you realize that.”

She sent him a wan smile. “I know. It’s my nature to fix things.” She pushed a hand through her hair. “Jack told me his twins seem to know that something’s wrong and they reach for Mari. They like to lie on either side of her, near her tummy. They press very close and both make humming sounds. The thing is, it’s the exact same notes in a pattern, over and over. He thinks they’re talking to the babies.”

“That’s amazing.”

“They’re infants. Most babies their age wouldn’t even be aware of a pregnancy, let alone have knowledge that their cousins were in trouble.”

“So we tend to have little geniuses. Is that so difficult to believe? You’re one. Jack and Ken are extremely intelligent. I don’t know their wives that well, but I can’t imagine them falling in love with someone who couldn’t keep up with them.”

Lily nodded and swept her hand through her hair a third time, looking more agitated than ever. “My father would kill to get his hands on this information. Sooner or later he’s going to try to find a way to get to the babies, or at least find out about them. The moment he does, once he actually knows what they’re like, he’ll move heaven and earth to acquire them. I know he will.”

She pressed her lips together. “The thing is, Sam, I think he might leave Jack and Ken’s babies with them because from what I’ve read in his reports, he thinks they’re incredibly gifted, but he doesn’t necessarily think the same of Ryland. He wasn’t happy that Ryland and I-his first real pairing-worked. He didn’t think it would. I think he wants to take Daniel from us.” She glanced toward the door. “He knows I’d follow Daniel. I’d go back to Whitney just to be with my son.”

“Lily.” Sam gentled his voice. “Have you spoken to Rye about your concerns? That’s why we’ve moved up here. This compound is defensible. And Team Two is close to us. They’ll help us if we’re attacked.”

“Providing they aren’t being attacked at the same time.”

“There was already a concentrated assault and we handled it. Remember, honey, I got shot?” Sam tried a little humor.

Lily shook her head. “That wasn’t my father. I know it wasn’t. Do you really think he’ll do an all-out assault and risk harming one of the babies? No, he’ll find a way to penetrate, slip in and out without us knowing there’s even a threat.”

His heart stuttered. Azami and her brothers could just be that threat. She could easily get in and out without anyone knowing.

“We won’t let that happen, honey,” he said, meaning it. If Azami and her family had come to the compound to steal one of the babies for Whitney-and he very much doubted it-he wouldn’t let that happen.

Sam glanced up at the bag of blood hanging on a pole beside his bed. “Why more blood?” He figured it was time to change the subject and give Lily an emotional break. She had it tough and whether she knew it or not, GhostWalker Team One had her back and watched over almost more protectively than anyone else. In any case, he needed to be on his feet and figure out what was going on in his home. He couldn’t protect Daniel while he was lying flat on his back-assuming the Yoshiie family was still in the compound.

“It sometimes happens, Sam. You lost a good deal of blood before we operated and even with what I gave you a couple of times, you were still a little low. I really do want you to try to rest. The Zenith is helping you heal faster, but it’s possible you’re not manufacturing the blood as fast as you should. I’m wondering if it’s a side effect.”

There it was again-his opening to find out more information-but he kept silent. He didn’t want to ask and know one way or the other. If he stayed quiet, there was always hope.

“I want to get up.”

“No way, Sam.”

He grinned at her. “Haven’t you heard about me, Lily? I have this problem with the word ‘no.’ It just isn’t in my vocabulary.”

She put on her sternest look, which wasn’t nearly as stern as she thought. “I’m the doctor here, Johnson, and that means I know what’s best.”

His eyebrow shot up. “Johnson? Is that all you’ve got? I bet Ryland thinks you’re all cute when you get serious on him. Of course you know what’s best. Nevertheless, I’m getting up. My butt’s growing to this bed.”

Lily burst out laughing. “You’re impossible. You’ve been down less than a week, you nut.”

“No way.” He sent her another coaxing grin. “Are you sure? It feels more like a month. Where is everyone?”

“They’re locked up in the war room. And no, you can’t go.”

There was that word again, but he wasn’t going to point it out to her. If she didn’t take the needle out of his arm, he was going to do it himself the moment she left.

As if reading his mind, Lily sighed. “I’ll take it out, but I’ll shoot my husband if he allows you to do anything but sit in a chair. You got that?”

“Hmm. Shooting Rye. I could get behind that one, Lily. The man is annoying when he’s throwing out orders, which, by the way, is all the time.”

“Tell me about it. He orders me around as well.” But she was laughing again, her eyes soft the moment she spoke about her husband.

Sam had always loved to see that open affection Ryland and Lily had for one another; now he felt a little envious. He had never thought to want a woman to look at him like that until he’d met Azami. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see her face. He could taste her in his mouth. Once, during the night, when he’d woken up in a sweat, close to screaming, the nightmare of that small child being tortured and out of his reach, he felt the brush of her hand and smelled the scent of her.

“Take this thing out of my arm, Lily.” He hesitated. “Please.” He was getting up and if she didn’t cooperate, he was going to leap out of the bed right in front of her, but sometimes one could get a lot more from Lily by being nice-and polite.

“Stop rushing me, Sam,” she snipped back, as if he was her brother.

He liked that about Lily. She rarely took offense when the men became bossy with her-which was often-but she still did what she wanted, ignoring them. Lily definitely went her own way and she always had that quiet air of confidence about her.

He deliberately made growling noises under his breath, making her laugh as she fussed over the bags hanging on the stand.

“All right. What a grump,” she added, as she took the needle from his arm. “And stay off your feet. You might heal fast, but trying to heal that hole in your body in a few days is asking just a little too much-even of Zenith.”

He couldn’t help the wince. He felt as if he might be lying to her by not making inquiries, but he was determined to find out if the Yoshiie family was in the compound and if they were, just what they were up to. He owed Azami the chance to explain the Zenith and anything else she could before he gave her up to Ryland.

Lily left him with one more admonishing look and he breathed a sigh of relief. He didn’t want her sticking around to witness him trying to get out of bed. He knew it wasn’t going to be a pretty sight. Just changing position took his breath away. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and waited until his vision cleared. His mouth still felt parched, as if he could never again get enough to drink. Breathing deeply, he put a little weight on his feet. The room spun, receded, and righted itself slowly. Gritting his teeth, he stood.

Black swirled in front of his eyes. White stars shot straight at him, great comets soaring and rolling. His stomach lurched. He’d been shot more than once. Knifed twice. He’d even had a brief stint with electric shock, but he’d never felt quite so weak. Was that the loss of blood or the crash after using Zenith? Good question for the doc. He forced more air into his lungs and waited for the world to right itself because there was no way he was crawling back into bed.

It took a few minutes for his legs to gain strength. The pain in his abdomen was easy enough to push aside, but the invading weakness wasn’t as cooperative. He took slow steps over to the bathroom, grateful the distance wasn’t far. He had to breathe deeply with every step and stop twice. Sam cursed under his breath. By the time he entered the war room with his team, he had to get this under control. It didn’t help that his body broke out in a sweat and small beads dotted his skin.

Cold water helped. He took a brief, cool shower, taking care not to disturb the glue holding him together, sitting on the chair someone had thoughtfully provided for him. They’d all had their share of wounds, so it wasn’t hard to try to figure out what a fellow wounded soldier might need. He sank back onto the bed and rested before he attempted to dress, but at least the lurching stomach and sweats had receded. His knees weren’t nearly as wobbly. He didn’t bother with shoes-bending over was too difficult to contemplate. He was a little proud of himself for walking in a straight line down the center of the hall without staggering or even listing to one side.

Sam pushed open the door to the war room. The large table was circled with his team members, who all looked up, various expressions on their faces. Most relieved, some a little shocked, and his captain openly scowled at him. Tucker and Gator, his two best friends, both grinned at him. Tucker jumped up to shadow him back to the table, ensuring he wouldn’t fall on his face and humiliate himself. Everyone, including Sam, knew what was coming.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Sam,” Ryland demanded, bringing knowing grins to everyone’s face. “If my wife finds you up, she’ll skin both of us alive.”

Tucker’s grin widened.

Sam shrugged. “She knows.”

“Didn’t you need another blood transfusion this morning?” Tucker asked, a hint of innocence in his question.

Sam knew there was nothing at all innocent about the inquiry. He was deliberately stirring the pot-which meant Ryland.

Sam shot him a look that promised retaliation. “Go to hell, Tucker.”

Raul “Gator” Fontenot nudged Kadan. “He looks a bit like a ghost, don’ you think?”

Sam tried his famous stare down, but truthfully, his legs felt a little rubbery. He pulled out a chair and allowed himself to drop into it, stretching his legs out in front of him to ease his protesting body. More than anything, he wanted to ask about Azami. How was she? Was she still in the compound? Did they have the Yoshiie family under house arrest? Had anyone questioned her regarding her psychic capabilities? What about the second-generation Zenith?

It was impossible to lie in bed and wonder what was going on with her. He woke up thinking about her, and dreamt about her when he wasn’t having nightmares, but he damn well wasn’t asking-not them and not Lily. Not anyone who would notice it was entirely out of character for Sam to make inquiries about a woman.

“Sam.” Ryland didn’t have a “reasonable” voice, not when it came to his men-or his wife’s or son’s health. “Get your ass back to bed.”

“I can’t do that, sir. I need to report. If the Yoshiies are still in the compound…” That was a blatant fishing trip, and he waited patiently for Ryland to bite.

Ryland’s scowl deepened. “If I needed you to report on the Yoshiies, I would have been at your bedside demanding a report. They rested the first day and they’ve been shown around the compound. Lily’s been handling that.”

“You showed them around?” Sam’s heart jumped and settled into a normal beat. He took a slow, careful look around. There was an overwhelming relief that Azami was still close and that he would see her again. There was also guilt that he felt that way when he was more than certain that something was a little off about the Yoshiie family. More, there was that peculiar rush of adrenaline he got when he knew he was in a battle of wits, which only added to his alarm.

“Ian’s been watching them. They’ve been under guard every moment. In any case, we’re purchasing the satellite. They need access to our computers.”

“Have they been in this room?” Sam asked.

Ryland got it. He’d always been an intelligent man. He sat up very straight, every bit of casual ease gone from his body language, revealing the dedicated soldier. “They’ve been working a good portion of this week to set things up. What is it, Sam?”

What could he say? That Ian couldn’t possibly guard Azami and keep her under a watchful eye?

“I don’t know about the other two, but Azami has skills. Gifts. She’s every bit as talented psychically as any one of us in this room-maybe more so.”

Ryland nodded, visibly relaxing. “She admitted as much to us. As all of us had natural psychic talents and we know they exist, Lily says it isn’t surprising to find such gifts in others who haven’t been enhanced.”

Sam nodded. It made sense. The members of the team came from different backgrounds, as did the other teams, so of course they couldn’t be the only ones in the world with developed psychic gifts. He was a little surprised that Azami had admitted to her abilities. She had fought beside him bravely, revealing extraordinary psychic gifts that she had to know might put the sale of the satellite in jeopardy-might even put her life at risk-yet she hadn’t hesitated. He couldn’t help but respect and admire her.

And want her. You want her for yourself, Sam. He admitted the truth. He’d never wanted a woman for himself before. He felt tremendous affection for the wives of the various members of the GhostWalker teams, and each was quite different in personality, but none of them would suit him. He was very driven at all times. He needed mental and physical stimulation and there was no doubt Azami was that woman.

But was she his enemy? He just couldn’t quite get over that small nagging doubt in his mind that she was one of them-a GhostWalker-which meant she was as enhanced as they were. If she was enhanced, if she had been one of Whitney’s experiments, what was she doing in their compound, and why didn’t any of the other GhostWalkers recognize her when all of them could feel the subtle differences in energy that identified one another?

He looked around at his teammates. Clearly none of them were worried about the Yoshiies moving around the compound. He wanted to relax a little, but the tension refused to dissipate. Still, they’d had a day or so to further investigate Azami and her brothers. He had to think about things a little more. Get a few more pieces before he made up his mind one way or the other. He definitely had more of a nagging doubt about the Yoshiies-Azami in particular-than any of the other GhostWalkers, and they were all sharp and gifted. Maybe he didn’t trust his strange, almost overwhelming attraction to her.

“So who the hell shot me? What have you found out so far?” he demanded. “And did anyone bother to retaliate for me?”

Ryland laughed. “You bloodthirsty animal. I think you did enough retaliating of your own. Do you have any idea what the body count was?”

“They attacked me,” Sam said righteously. “They should have stayed the hell home.”

Tucker nudged him. “If anyone made it home, I’d have to say they probably wished they’d never left in the first place. You’re a monster, Sam.”

“Who?” Sam insisted.

“We’re still working on it. The moment we have any IDs or we know the entry points into the country, I’ll brief everyone,” Ryland said.

“Two helicopters, Rye. They had to come from somewhere and they had to land somewhere. Fuel is always a problem,” Sam felt compelled to point out. They’d shot him.

“They put down at an abandoned airstrip not far from here. It was part of a private estate that’s been on the market for several years. We’ll find them. We’re on their trail and when we do, we’ll know who sent them.”

Sam knew he had to be content with that much. They’d gather information first. That was always the way, and information took time.

“What are you working on now? Catch me up.” He picked up the file sitting in front of Gator and flipped it open to study the contents.

Ryland looked around at his men with his steel gray piercing eyes. “We’ve got a problem, I’m certain of it. Two people suspected of being in Whitney’s employ dropping dead might be a coincidence, but three? No way. And the woman, the witness, Sheila Benet, at two out of the three accidents? We’re missing something here.” He turned his attention to Sam. “These are reports of deaths that have been ruled accidental. None of them raised an alarm anywhere else, but my gut tells me something’s definitely off. We flagged two of these people at least two years ago and the third, Major Art Patterson, we put on our watch list about three months ago.”

Sam’s eyebrow shot up. “Patterson worked on the general’s watch. They got into a thing a while back and he told me he was concerned about the man. He actually said he was keeping ‘the enemy’ close.”

Ryland nodded. “It was the general who put Patterson’s name on the watch list.”

“We’ve got both Flame and Jaimie tracking this woman Sheila Benet, finding out everything they can about her,” Kadan added. “It’s way too much of a coincidence.”

Sam scanned the medical reports of the three victims Ryland mentioned. A woman appeared to have died by slipping on water in a bathroom and hitting her head on the sink at an infamous nightclub. The second incident was a man dying in a car accident, his car going off the road on a remote mountain highway. The third, Major Patterson, lost his life in a restaurant, apparently dying of anaphylactic shock in front of a host of witnesses.

“I’ve studied all the reports,” Kadan added. “I went over both the investigating officer’s and coroner’s reports meticulously. They look like straight-up accidents, all three of them, but something is off. My gut doesn’t lie and it’s screaming at me.”

Nicolas “Nico” Trevane looked up from where he was cleaning weapons. “I’m in agreement.” He was a big man, half Native American, half Japanese, and all lethal. “But how could any of these have been anything but an accident?”

Sam scanned the report of the army officer a second time, his mouth going dry. He moistened his lips, his pulse beginning to race. He wished he hadn’t gotten up after all.

“Sam?” Ryland frowned at him. “Do you need to lie down?”

There it was. His out. Hell, yeah, he needed to lie down. He swallowed down his need to protect Azami and cleared his suddenly clogged throat. “The medical examiner’s notes on Major Patterson’s throat seemed pretty significant to me.” Why the hell did this seem like such a betrayal? His loyalty was solidly with his team-his brothers. He would protect Daniel at any cost.

“Spit it out, Sam,” Ryland ordered. “Why would you think that bruising was significant when the ME mentions he had a known allergy to peanuts and the bruising is in the shape of a peanut. The death was ruled accidental.”

Sam nodded his head, reluctant to continue, but loyalty demanded he do so. “He didn’t find a peanut in his body anywhere.”

Kadan leaned forward. “But it’s possible that when he was choking he coughed it out.”

“I’m just speculating that maybe he didn’t eat a peanut,” Sam persisted, hating himself. This was far more difficult than he’d thought it would be. “The woman who lunched with him said he didn’t eat anything with peanuts. He knew he had an allergy. It’s just a thought.”

“You’ve got a point,” Nico said. “That bothered me as well.”

“His airway could have swollen closed,” Gator said. “With the bruisin’, it would have been natural and there were signs of swellin’. All the witnesses said he was chokin’.”

“But the ME said there were inconsistencies. Anaphylactic shock usually isn’t quite so fast. His EpiPen was nowhere on his body and his colleagues said he always carried one,” Kadan said, his voice thoughtful.

Ryland regarded Sam through half-closed eyes. That sleepy look didn’t deceive Sam for a minute. The man was sharp and he knew Sam wasn’t finished. He simply waited for more of an explanation.

Sam had it to do. Give her up. Azami. I’m sorry. But that wouldn’t cut it. How could she forgive such a thing? Telling his team about her weapons would only force her to answer more questions about herself.

He shook his head, tossed the medical report back in front of Gator, and looked around the room. “It’s possible that someone, using a blowgun, shot a tiny dart into the major’s mouth, poisoning him. The delivery system, no more than peanut-size, could have dissolved. If he wasn’t looking for it, the ME may have missed a very fine needle mark.” He drummed on the table with restless fingers. “If I were an assassin, I would have learned everything about my targets and I would have found out Patterson had a severe allergy to peanuts. If I could deliver the toxin to him, no one would ever know it was anything but an accident, just like the other two.”

There. It was done. He looked around for a glass of water. Tucker had a water bottle unopened in front of him. He snagged it and chugged nearly half of it.

“A delivery system that dissolves?” Ryland echoed. “It’s possible.”

Kadan and Nico exchanged a long look. Finally Kadan shook his head. “Do you have any idea how accurate one would have to be to use a blowgun in full view of the public and hit someone in the mouth when they were talking? The chances of anyone having that kind of skill are nearly impossible.”

He’d given her up. He damn well wasn’t going any further until he had a chance to talk to her. Sam remained silent. He felt like hell, both mentally and physically. He was beginning to sweat again. He tried not to move, the pain from his wound just waiting for the smallest shift of his body to assert itself.

“You make impossible shots in high winds,” Gator pointed out. “It’s not like it couldn’t be done.”

Nico shook his head. “It’s not the same thing. You’re talking about hitting inside the mouth. I could put a bullet in the mouth, but it wouldn’t matter if it was opened or closed. You’d have to time it perfectly. And this was done in a crowded restaurant.”

“Impossible,” Kyle “Ratchet” Forbes agreed. Slightly under six feet, with blue eyes and a medium build, his looks were deceptive. He was abnormally strong and a genius with explosives as well as being a doctor. “No one would try it in a crowded room in a public situation. If they missed…”

“But maybe they don’ miss,” Gator said, reluctant to give up on the mystery theory. He looked toward Sam for confirmation.

Sam couldn’t say another word. The room shifted a little, the floor rolling. He was grateful for the chair he was sitting in.

“If you’re assassinating someone, you don’t want a maybe,” Kadan pointed out.

Kyle grinned and gave a little shrug. “There’s that, of course. You’d have to be absolutely confident in yourself to try something like that.”

“Maybe a tribesmen from the lost tribes in the Amazon came a-visitin’,” Gator said with a small laugh.

“I could do it with a knife,” Jonas “Smoke” Harper said into the silence. Lithe, medium height with blond hair and Florentine gold eyes, he was a quiet, highly intelligent man who could have been a master thief. He was an undisputed master with knives. “It would be difficult, but with enough practice, and studying my mark, I’d be able to know his mannerism’s, the way he moves, the little things that give people away when they’re talking.”

“You could hit a man from across the room inside his mouth with a knife?” Kyle asked, half skeptic, half awed believer.

Jonas nodded. “I know I could.” Jonas had grown up throwing knives with a circus family, he’d practically been born with a knife in his hand.

“Really?” Kyle’s eyebrow went up. He leapt up and raced out of the room.

“He’s up to somethin’, Smoke, you’d better watch out,” Gator advised Jonas in his slow Cajun drawl.

The men erupted into laughter. Jonas shrugged and took out one of the many knives he carried most of the time. Around the room on various walls hung well-used targets, testimony to the fact that when idle, Jonas threw knives and was very accurate.

Nico held up his hand. “Let’s think about this. If we’re really going with the assassination theory, the bathroom and the car accidents are very doable. Any assassin worth his salt could rig a car, or make the hit in a secluded bathroom. It’s just the major’s death that’s harder to figure out, right?”

Kadan nodded. “And yet, of all three, his death seems the least likely to be an accident.”

Kyle slipped back into the room, a huge grin on his face. He plopped a can of peanuts down on the table in front of Jonas. “Let’s see.”

Gator nearly leapt over the table. “I want to try. Hand a few peanuts to me.” He didn’t wait but scooped a handful out of the can.

“I said I could hit the target with a knife,” Jonas said, holding up a wicked-looking two-inch throwing knife. “Start talking and let’s see if I can time it just right.”

Kyle threw a peanut at Jonas’s mouth as he spoke. The peanut hit him on the bridge of Jonas’s nose. War erupted. Team members scooped up peanuts and flicked, threw, and chewed the nuts, laughing uproariously. Through it all, Sam was very aware that Ryland remained silent. Hard knots formed in Sam’s belly. He knew Ryland. The man didn’t lead the team because he was stupid. Those piercing gray eyes were locked onto his face. Steady. Unblinking. Sam remained stubbornly silent, making him ask if he wanted any more information.

The room spun a little and he almost hoped he’d just faint and get it over with. He’d never live down an actual faint if it happened. For the rest of his life, Gator and Tucker would dramatically fall to the floor in an adaptation, swooning at every opportunity to remind him, but it might be worth avoiding Ryland’s questions. Sam gripped the table hard to keep from swaying. He became aware of the throbbing, pulsing pain in the region of his gut every time he moved. He’d been able to block it before, keeping the pain to a nagging ache, but now his pulse seem to keep time with that lurching, pounding wound in his abdomen.

Ryland heaved a sigh. “You’re one obstinate son of a bitch, Sam. Is there a reason why you’re not coughing up all the information?”

The other men stopped their antics, although Gator stuffed another handful of peanuts into his mouth, crunching while they all waited for his answer.

Sam shrugged. “I saw Ms. Yoshiie use a blowgun in combat. It was very small and I realized, when I read the report, that a small blowgun would fit into a man’s hand easily and if he was good enough, he might be able to deliver poison to the back of a throat.”

Now he couldn’t gracefully exit. He had to hear what that revelation brought. Just because Azami had a blowgun didn’t mean anything. Hell, he was probably going to faint if he stood up and made an exit anyway.

“You don’ look so good.” Gator’s voice was suddenly concerned. “Tucker, let’s get him out of here.”

“I’m fine.” If they were going to discuss reasons for Azami to have a blowgun, he wanted to hear every word. Sadly, even sounds were fading in and out. He looked around the room, saw mouths moving, but he couldn’t hear a word.

Ryland suddenly stood, as did most of his teammates. Tucker and Gator reached him first, supporting his large frame with strength.

“You’re done, Knight,” Ryland said. “Take him back to his room. I’ll send for Lily.”

He didn’t have the strength to protest and in any case, when Ryland spoke in that tone, no one disobeyed him.