Ghostwalker 08 - Street Game

thinking, just shivering. He was cold and wanted more alcohol, but was oblivious to anyone else. Up the street a group of a four partied together. Drugs raced through their systems, not adrenaline. She examined the rooftops. She knew Gideon was up there somewhere along with the one they called Superman, yet she couldn’t find either of them.
    She opened her eyes and looked at Mack. “I don’t know how long I’ve been under surveillance. He has to be a GhostWalker. I can’t detect Gideon either.”
    “But you can detect both of us?” Mack asked.
    She nodded. “And the two outside moving around the first floor, looking for a way in.”

    64

    “But not Gideon or the other man?”
    She shook her head. “That’s never happened before, Mack. Not once. Not in all the times I trained. What’s different about Gideon?”
    “I don’t know, but I don’t want you saying anything. We’ll need to protect that information. Don’t document it,” Mack cautioned.
    She crawled away from the window to the center of the room where her furniture was. “Because you know they’d dissect him to see if they could make you all that way.”
    “The mysterious ‘they’ again,” Mack said. “You use ‘they’ and ‘you’ a lot. You’re a GhostWalker too, Jaimie. You gave your consent just like the rest of us. And not everyone in the program is corrupt.”
    She sank into a chair across from Kane. “I know that, Mack. I just despise the entire mess. Whitney’s given some people cancer. He’s hurt them in order to see if he could speed the healing process. He’s so far out of control and someone knows it.
    More than one someone, yet they protect him. They want his research and we’re all expendable to protect it. And we have foreign governments wanting one of us to dissect so they can build the same kind of soldier. Do you think any of us are going to have a life if we don’t get out now?”
    Kane slipped his gun back beneath his sleeping bag, knowing Jaimie hated the weapon. “We’re going to be fine as long as we stick together, Jaimie.”
    Her eyes met his. There was despair there. She was too intelligent to be reassured like a child and they both knew it. She had logged in hundreds of hours going over Whitney’s experiment. It read like a horror story. Her temples throbbed with pain, an aftermath of using psychic ability. It helped with Mack and Kane in the room, but still, the pain made her stomach lurch.
    She didn’t want to think about all the children Whitney had conducted his experiments on. The adults had been bad enough, but she knew there had been children involved. The man was still out there, on the loose, condoned and aided by a group of power-hungry men who believed themselves above the law. The men in GhostWalker Team Three were all members of her family. No, they weren’t bound by blood, but they’d chosen years ago to band together and make it through life together.
    Now they were all in jeopardy.
    “I can’t save them,” she said aloud, and then was horrified that she’d spoken without thinking.
    She could no longer trust either Mack or Kane. They had embraced their new bodies and minds and they believed they could make a huge difference. They were honorable men and they fought for what they believed. She was no longer part of that circle. No matter how familiar, no matter how much she loved them, she had to remember she wasn’t part of what they were doing and if orders came down regarding her—both men would follow those orders.

    65

    As if reading her mind, Mack sank into the chair beside hers and reached out to take her hand. “We’re here in San Francisco hunting this shipment of weapons and the men who are going to buy them. It’s our one chance to get at the Doomsday unit.
    They happen to be in the same neighborhood you’re living in. Whatever that means.
    However it happened. Someone is threatening you. Let’s just call a truce until we remove the threat and I have my terrorists in custody.”
    “You don’t take them into custody, Mack,” she pointed out. “You assassinate them.”
    “I do whatever it takes. And I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you alive, Jaimie.
    Whatever is going on here is not of my making. You wanted out. I was hoping you would get out and make a life for yourself.”
    He had hoped she’d come back to him and tell him she was missing him every single minute of every single day—that she couldn’t breathe without him. That hadn’t