Conspiracy Game (GhostWalkers, #4)(103)

Wait until the damn thing is clear of the house. I don’t want it coming down on my head.

Ken squeezed off three rounds in rapid succession, and the helicopter began to spin wildly. Jack lifted his head enough to take aim and add another two rounds. The helicopter slipped sideways and spun again, black smoke pouring off of it.

Damn it, Ken. It’s going to hit the garage. My Jeep is parked there. Your Rover just happens to be in the shed. How did that happen?

Bitch-bitch-bitch. Get out of there. Someone just jumped from the helicopter, and the way he landed, he’s a supersoldier.

The helicopter slid to the ground, crumbling, almost in slow motion, metal grinding loudly and more smoke choking the air. Clouds of smoke burst all around them.

He’s blanketing the area, Jack, could be coming at you. Are you hit?

Not exactly, but I’m really pissed you blew up my car.

I didn’t blow up your car, you jackass. I saved your life. I told you to park the thing in the shed. I was cleaning the garage out and you wouldn’t move it. Serves your happy ass right.

Something stilled inside of Jack. Where’s the second helicopter?

I shot at him a couple of times and he drew back.

Jack shook his head, trying to force his mind to rise above combat mode. Something’s not right, he said. They’re engaging with us, Ken, but they aren’t trying all that hard. You think they’re afraid?

Ken turned that over and over in his mind, frowning as he did so. I think they’re obeying orders.

So they’re keeping us occupied. Whitney ran his computer probabilities like he did for every mission, and his damn computer said we’d stash Briony somewhere safe. Jack’s gut knotted—not a good sign. Warning alarms were beginning to shriek at him.

Ken’s alarm rang just as loud. Briony was worried because they keep finding her. How, Jack? How are they finding her?





CHAPTER 17





Briony crouched in the tunnel leading down into the mine. Something wasn’t right, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. How were they finding her? If Ken was right, they would never have sent soldiers against him and Jack. How could Whitney get away with sending soldiers after members of the military? They had no one they could trust.

The tunnel was far darker than the woods, and she sat at the entrance, where she could hurriedly escape back into the mine should someone come, but there was solace in being close to the woods. She occasionally saw a flash of light in the sky and heard the sound of gunfire, but it seemed far away. How were they finding her?

There had to be logic in what Whitney had done. He’d brought her from the orphanage where he found her, and experimented on her, but unlike some of the other girls he’d kept, he’d adopted her out to a loving family. But that was still an experiment. He had wanted to see how she would develop and function in comparison with someone he’d kept. What exactly did one need for an experiment? Briony sat up straighter, her heart beginning to pound, knowing she was on the verge of an important discovery. Her temples throbbed and her stomach twisted. Too many times in her life she’d felt the same stabbing pains, the terrible churning in her stomach, and she’d stopped trying to remember her past. Who did Whitney control and who was he comparing her to? Whitney needed his experiments the way others needed to breathe. There would be someone—another child he’d kept behind, raised without a family, raised in a stark, difficult environment—one he kept.

“Oh God.” Horrified at her own thoughts, she began to rock back and forth, pressing her hands over her stomach. One of the other girls? What would that show Whitney? Only that she reacted differently under duress? Under pain? No—Whitney would need more than that. Why was she chosen to be adopted out? What was special about her that he sent her out when he kept so many others?

She tried to remember, forcing her thoughts back to her childhood before her adopted family. She’d been five—old enough to have memories. Her skull pounded. Blood trickled out of her nose in warning, but shadows moved, eluded her, small wisps. A childish voice. Crying. Begging. Was that her voice? Were there two voices crying? Hard hands tearing her away when she clung… when they clung together.

She rubbed her hands up and down her arms, suddenly chilled to the bone. There were two voices. Pain shot through her head, stabbing deep into her brain, but she wouldn’t let go when she was so close. Blood dripped steadily from her nose and began to leak from her ear. She pressed her palms to her head. It felt like someone was squeezing a vise there, but she pushed through the barrier, the pain—and saw…

Briony choked back a scream, and covered her eyes as if that would block out the knowledge. Two little girls with the same tow heads, blond hair falling around their faces, their dark brown eyes enormous, walking and talking and holding each other until… Briony ran deeper into the mine, bent over, and threw up.

She had a twin sister. Whitney had ripped them apart, buried her memories behind a wall of pain, and sent her out alone while he kept her sister. How could she have let him erase the knowledge she had a sister? All the years that had passed, what had he done to Mari? Marigold. Had he taken her memory as well? Or did her sister know Briony was out there somewhere free, while she remained locked up with a madman and his experiments? Did her sister wait for rescue? Would he be so cruel as to torment her that way? Did her sister wonder every day of her life why Briony didn’t come for her?