Ghostwalker 07 - Murder Game

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 s
    a 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 skintig t h
    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 ABC Amber LIT Converter
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    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 expectin
    g 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