GhostWalkers 10 - Samurai Game

to pace across the floor, picked up a mug, and poured hot coffee into it. “You and I both know she took Whitney’s pipeline out. She assassinated three people.”
    Sam shrugged, careful now, on shifting, dangerous ground. “Maybe. I’ve assassinated a hell of a lot more than that. I don’t exactly have room to throw stones. None of us do.”
    He studied Ryland’s face. They were more than friends. They’d gone to battle together and watched each other’s back. They had complete trust in each other. Ryland was concerned for him, that much was obvious, and Sam couldn’t blame him. It wasn’t that Ryland didn’t want to see him happy; hell, he hadn’t known he was unhappy. He’d been just fine until Azami had come along. No wonder Rye thought he was crazy.
    Sam looked around the table at his silent companions. Normally they were all heckling one another and playing juvenile pranks on each other. They were all just as concerned as Ryland. He didn’t know what to say to reassure them. There wasn’t a single part of him that had a doubt that Azami was the woman for him—yet what could he giveher? He couldn’t argue with Ryland, not because he wasn’t certain of his choice, but he wasn’t certain how he could be her choice.
    “You aren’t going to be reasonable about this, are you?” Ryland asked.
    “No. I made up my mind. I’m asking her brothers for permission. I don’t want to wait. I want her with me. She knows I’m a soldier and that I belong here. I know I can help her in her work just as she’ll be an asset in mine.”
    Ryland’s frown deepened. “She isn’t part of this team.”
    “Not any more than the other women, Rye, but she’s a GhostWalker and she belongs with us. She fits with me.”
    “Are we going to talk about what she said? About the orders coming down to us?”
    Again Sam shrugged. “It won’t be the first or last time one of us has been targeted. If she’s right, we’ll handle it.”
    “Sam … ” Ryland started to say something and abruptly cut himself short.
    “Say it.” Anger welled up. He looked around the room. “I know exactly what you’re thinking. I knew it the moment Azami mentioned those orders and you made such a big deal out of telling her you pick your own team. This isn’t the first time anyone’s implicated the general in wrongdoing. Yes, he was Colonel Higgens’s friend. He knew Whitney. He knows a lot of people. He wouldn’t sell me down the river because a madman asked him to. Even if he specifically names me to go, Rye, that doesn’t mean the orders come from him.”
    “I’m not saying you should suspect the general of being in league with Whitney,” Ryland hedged. “It just makes good sense to watch your back. People aren’t always what they seem, Sam. The people we can trust are the ones in this room, not out there.” He pointed out the window. “And just for good measure, the general is the one person we shared Lily’s work on second-generation Zenith with.”
    Sam pushed down anger. “The general has been a father to me. I joined the service to be like him. Don’t stand thereand tell me you’re not suspicious of him, because you’ve been suspicious from the day everything went to hell. You’re a paranoid son of a bitch, Rye. And now you’re suspicious of Azami. You think everything’s a conspiracy and everyone is involved.”
    Ryland’s eyebrow shot up. “Aren’t they? Isn’t everything a conspiracy?”
    Sam didn’t smile as he knew Ryland wanted him to. General Ranier had fallen under suspicion several times and each time he’d come back clean, yet his unit didn’t altogether trust him. Sam loved the general. He’d given up a lucrative job in the civilian world to follow the general into the service. He loved and respected the general more than anyone else in the world.
    Sam ducked his head. That wasn’t entirely the truth. Ryland had come to take that place, and somehow, the general had slipped down a few notches, which was why Sam was so belligerent and defensive when the subject was brought up. He felt guilty. Plain and simple he felt guilty because more than once, he’d had the hairs on the back of his neck stand up around the general and he hadn’t said a word to anyone else. He was guilty either way. Not telling his team his strange feelings, and not believing in the man who had taken him off the streets.
    What had made him worry? Sam shook his head to clear it. Little things. Shadows. Whispers. The