GhostWalkers 10 - Samurai Game

arrived.
    Eiji walked out of the bar and down the sidewalk, using the same unhurried pace his sister had. He turned into the alley where she waited, once more in jeans, with her long hair pulled back in a ponytail. As he walked down the alley toward her, he reversed his light-colored coat to the darker blue side, slicked his hair back, and waited while Azami deftly changed the laces in his shoes to a bright pink. They both donned backpacks they had stashed. He dropped hisarm around her shoulders, and they emerged onto the next street on the other side of the block, Eiji hailing a cab.
    D aylight gave way to darkness, although there seemed to be little difference with the constant rain in the jungle. Sometimes the rain let up for a short while and then it would start again in earnest. They continued their journey toward the port where the GhostWalkers hoped to “acquire” a boat.
    The rising sun found them four miles from town where they settled in for the day. It was far too risky in the more populated area to travel. With the sun, the rain faded into a mist and then gradually disappeared altogether.
    “We’ll rest here,” Ryland decided. “Try to scavenge up some food, find a water source, and clean up a bit.”
    They all carried baby wipes and basic hygiene necessities and it felt good to take some of the grime of battle and travel off. Water came from a creek that ran into the nearby Congo River. Kyle, Jonas, and Gator went looking for food for everyone. Kyle managed to come up with a couple of dozen bananas and Jonas collected wild yams. Gator built a fish weir in the creek and captured a few tilapia.
    Sam and Nico dug an oblong hole and built a fire in it. Using green limbs, they built a rack over the fire and cooked the fish and yams. They all sat back, finally satisfied, feeling as if they’d attended a virtual feast. The food was much needed, as it had been some time since they’d consumed any of their rations.
    “We’re going to revise our plan a little and go with a new strategy for the night,” Ryland said. It was evident that while the others collected and cooked food, Ryland and Kadan had been working on a new plan. “We’ll split into two teams. The teams will do independent recons of two different routes to port. We’d like to find a small boat to take us down the Congo River to the Atlantic. When we’ve completed our recons, we’ll meet back up at a designated ORP and make a decision how to proceed. Any questions?”
    Again there was no pause. “Good. Let’s get it done, gentlemen.”
    Sam, Nico, Kadan, and Jonas headed out, traveling fast, as soon as they’d settled on an objective rally point. Sam slipped into the brush, close to the port. The place was heavily guarded, presumably to keep the rebels out. Armed men in uniforms paced restlessly. Several stood together, talking quietly, smoke and laughter drifting back toward him. He worked his way all along the river, trying to find some means of transportation, but the security had the place locked down tight. Cursing under his breath, he made his way back to his three team members. All of them shook their heads silently.
    Kadan gave the signal to retreat back to the designated objective rally point. They could only hope that Ryland’s team had fared better. They crouched down, waiting for Ryland’s team when the radio gave a soft sigh.
    “Burning Man … Burning Man … this is Firefly, over.”
    He closed his eyes for a moment. He was trapped in the jungle, no way to get out, the president’s army all around them. The soldiers sure as hell didn’t have a clue they were the good guys, and if caught, no one would claim them—not even the man who had asked for help.
    He swallowed hard. She was right about the clarity of the radio. It sounded as if she was whispering in his ear. He hoped she was right about the audio capability—she’d devised some new audio device that if they stayed under fifteen seconds with each transmission, was supposed to be impossible to detect. Just the sound of her voice made him want to hold her close.
    “Burning Man, over.”
    “Your ride is waiting.”
    “Copy that, Firefly, ride is waiting, over.”
    “Tell leader, problem taken care of. Home office clear as well. Firefly out.”
    His heart jerked. It seemed a hell of a lot easier to run around jungles with enemies surrounding him when he hadnothing to lose. The freighter was anchored and waiting for them. They just had to make it out to the