Ghostwalker 07 - Murder Game

It was a private boarding school and I was young, wanting to fit in without a hope in hell of doing so. I was homesick, but this was a chance of a lifetime and my parents were so proud that I'd been chosen for the honor of attending such an elite school."

    Don sighed and shifted slightly, glanced at his wife and then back up at Kadan. "If I'm going to tell you this, can I at least sit up?"

    Kadan held his gaze. "You've got a sniper who never misses pointing a gun at your head.
    You have one of my team sitting across the room from you holding another gun in his hands and he doesn't miss either. And just so you know, I'd kill you before either of the m
    got off a shot." He pulled his hand away from the man's throat and backed up a few steps, completely confident in his speed and ability to carry out his threat if Don made a wro g n
    o
    m ve.

    Don rubbed his throat, sliding his body cautiously forward and folding into a sitting position. He reached forSharon 's hand and checked her pulse. "My wife has nothing to do with any of this. If you kill me, give me your word you won't harm her."

    Kadan's eyebrow shot up. "You'd believe me?"

    "You're a hired killer, Mr. Montague, but you're not a liar."

    Kadan kept his expression blank. That wasn't exactly the truth. He'd do whatever it took to complete a mission, but he shrugged his shoulders. "Your wife won't be harmed."

    For a moment relief showed in Don's eyes, then his gaze flickered away. Yeah. There was guilt there. The man was knee-deep in dirt.

    "Peter Whitney is an incredibly intelligent man. I admire intelligence. We gravitated toward one another. I was younger, and in a school where everyone has money—and degrees of it—it's difficult to fit in. I wanted what they all had."

    Kadan remained silent. He might understand it, but he had a bad feeling, and a part of ABC Amber LIT Converter
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    him was already mourning for Tansy. As he watched Don talk, taking in the shape of his eyes and the silver hair, things began to click.

    "Whitney has this built-in radar for psychic ability. He can pass someone in the street, and even if they don't know it, he does. He can shield his brain and he can spot psychics, but that's the extent of it. He's many things, Mr. Montague, but he's a patriot as twisted as his visions for the country are. Of course in the early days, I didn't see him as twisted. He was older, smart, which few people were, and he had more money than anyone else on the planet. Everything he said sounded golden."

    Kadan stayed patient when he wanted to shake the man. His revelations were going to hurt Tansy—and she'd have to be told. Damn this man for his childish greed.

    "Whitney envisioned a world without men dying in battle. He said we could create supersoldiers. I honestly didn't think the psychic abilities were strong enough in people.
    Mine weren't. I feel things sometimes. When I see a helicopter or an airplane, I can redesign it for better function and speed and maneuverability because I 'see' the flaws."

    "And you have a natural shield."

    Don nodded. "I didn't know it for a long time. How many people can read minds? I metSharon while I was in graduate school. She was so small and fragile, with a weak heart. I fell like a ton of bricks, but she comes from the same kind of money as Whitney, and although I was making a name for myself, I was nowhere in her league. I didn't think she'd look twice at me."

    Kadan was beginning to put the pieces together. Don Meadows was a fool. This was all about his wife.

    "I managed to get her to go out with me, and in the end, she married me. Her family was furious and threatened to cut her out of her inheritance, but she married me anyway.
    Eventually her father backed me in my business, and we've been lucky and have established enough government contacts to be more than successful."

    "But…" Kadan prompted. Don Meadows was circling the subject, hoping it would be enough without disclosing his ties to Whitney. Kadan wasn't about to let him get away with it.

    Meadows sighed heavily and strokedSharon 's limp hand. "Long beforeSharon 's father would take a chance on me, I worked for Peter. He had a huge research center and I was given my own department. I had visions of maybe becoming partners with him one day and showingSharon 's family that we didn't need them. Peter and I took a business trip toEurope . I