Ghostwalker 07 - Murder Game

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 a d
    n 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 g
    a ain, green now, like the plants around him. Using his elbows t
    o 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 ABC Amber LIT Converter
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    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."

    Sharonshook 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