Ghostwalker 08 - Street Game

mouth.
    “I’m going to take out Thornton and any threat to Kane, Brian, and Sergeant Major.”
    “Just be careful,” she cautioned.
    “My middle name.”

    232

CHAPTER 17

    Gideon eased the ache in his leg with the smallest of stretches. “No movement yet, boss, he’s still in there sitting by his fireplace with a drink as if he has all the time in the world.”
    Mack glanced at his watch. The lights in Jefferson’s house had been on for hours.
    He wasn’t retiring anytime soon. He seemed to be waiting for someone—or something. There was no way he could possibly know he was a target. The three had slipped from the warehouse unseen and boarded a military flight. Tucked in the trees, they’d already spent enough hours to be getting cramps, waiting for Jefferson to go to bed.
    “Well, he doesn’t have all the time in the world, Gideon, and you’re right, he’s waiting for someone.”
    The tree they’d set up in was enormous. The great sprawling branches were thick, and they dipped and twisted, giving them a tremendous platform to work from. Phillip Thornton’s house had been modest, in a quiet neighborhood at the end of a cul-de-sac.
    As James Bradley Jefferson the third, the man had treated himself to a home he felt he deserved. The long drive led to a two-story brick estate. Tall pillars rose around the wide verandah, a proud Southern home, surrounded by shrubbery and rolling lawns.
    The property was nestled in thick trees, an old growth of evergreens, one of the few stands left in the area. The terrain lent the estate a natural seclusion.
    “Any phone calls?”
    “One, boss, from Senator Romney. But he’s definitely waiting for someone. He’s checked his watch at least three times. The directional mike is working perfectly. If he does have a visitor, we’ll be able to hear every word.”
    “I want it recorded,” Mack said. “We need everything we can get on him. And no evidence left behind. Not so much as a scrape on a tree. When we take him down, no matter how natural his death appears, there will be an investigation.”
    “He the one after Kane and Brian?” Javier asked, bringing his travel mug to his mouth. The hot coffee warmed his insides. There was malice in his voice.
    “Jefferson has a hard-on for both of them,” Mack said. “Sergeant Major turned his report over to General Chilton and I’m guessing Chilton turned it over to Jefferson.
    Either way, all the evidence they gathered is now destroyed. And Jefferson sent those killers after Jaimie.”
    Gideon and Javier exchanged a long, knowing look.
    “We know he’s working at Langley, we’ve watched him come and go,” Javier said. “I could have taken out the bastard a hundred times already.”

    233

    Mack shook his head. “It has to be a natural death or an accident no one can dispute. If I can get close enough to him, I can kill him and everyone will think he’s had a heart attack.”
    Again Gideon and Javier exchanged a long look. Mack almost never mentioned his psychic abilities. His was a rare talent. Mack always played things close to his chest and when he’d filled out the forms, he had never revealed his ability to manipulate electrical energy. They’d heard the rumor that one of the GhostWalkers’
    wives from Team Two could do the same, but they’d never met her and the rumor wasn’t confirmed. Mack’s talent made him invaluable to the team and the fact that no one, not even Whitney, knew he had the ability, made him the perfect assassin.
    Getting up close to Jefferson was another matter. He’d proved to be very cautious.
    Years with the agency and working with Whitney had made him wary of everyone.
    He changed his route at a moment’s notice. Few knew his schedule ahead of time. It was impossible to know which car he would be using. When a car was summoned, it was gone over meticulously for bombs. He had to be taken in his home.
    Mack watched Jefferson through the bulletproof glass of his study. “He’s waiting for a woman.”
    Gideon turned his head back toward the house, narrowing his eyes. Jefferson used a remote to light a fire in his fireplace. He poured two drinks from a Waterford decanter on the table beside the sofa. He pointed the remote again and music flooded the room.
    “Very high-class seduction scene,” Javier said. “Where’s the caviar?”
    “He’s setting the scene, all right,” Mack said, “but I don’t believe he’s in love with this woman. Look at him. He’s setting a