Deadly Game (GhostWalkers, #5)

Deadly Game (GhostWalkers, #5)

Christine Feehan



For Val Philips, a treasured friend

who doesn’t like alligator ponds with alligators in them

(who would have known?)

or terribly alpha males,

this one’s for you.





For My Readers

Be sure to write to Christine at Christine@christine feehan.com to get a FREE exclusive screen saver and join the PRIVATE e-mail list to receive an announcement when Christine’s books are released.





Acknowledgments

I want to thank Domini Stottsberry for her help in the tremendous amount of research necessary to make this book possible. Brian Feehan and J&L deserve much gratitude for talking about rescues and action, and answering endless questions! As always, Cheryl, you are incredible!





The GhostWalker Symbol Details



SIGNIFIES shadow



SIGNIFIES protection against evil forces



SIGNIFIES the Greek letter psi, which is used by parapsychology researchers to signify ESP or other psychic abilities



SIGNIFIES qualities of a knight—loyalty, generosity, courage, and honor



SIGNIFIES shadow knights who protect against evil forces using psychic powers, courage, and honor





The GhostWalker Creed

We are the GhostWalkers, we live in the shadows

The sea, the earth, and the air are our domain

No fallen comrade will be left behind

We are loyalty and honor bound

We are invisible to our enemies

and we destroy them where we find them

We believe in justice and we protect our country

and those unable to protect themselves

What goes unseen, unheard, and unknown

are GhostWalkers

There is honor in the shadows and it is us

We move in complete silence whether

in jungle or desert

We walk among our enemy unseen and unheard

Striking without sound and scatter to the winds

before they have knowledge of our existence

We gather information and wait with endless patience

for that perfect moment to deliver swift justice

We are both merciful and merciless

We are relentless and implacable in our resolve

We are the GhostWalkers and the night is ours





CHAPTER 1




Ken Norton glanced up at the swirling dark clouds obscuring the stars and casting an ominous charcoal veil across the moon. He noted the shadows of the trees, closer to the hulking building, checking them constantly for any alteration, any sign of someone slipping through the darkness out of sight of the cameras, but his gaze kept straying back to the large hunting cabin and two carcasses swaying from meat hooks on the porch. The smell of blood and death assailed his nostrils and he wanted to gag, a stupid reaction to the two skinned deer hanging from hooks on the porch when he was a sniper and had done more than his share of killing.

His skin color changed to better blend with his surroundings, and his specially designed clothes reflected the colors around him, allowing him the effect of disappearing completely into the surrounding foliage, hidden from prying eyes. For the thousandth time he looked away from the swaying carcasses still dripping blood.

“So who the hell orders a hit on a senator of the United States?” he asked, his steel gray eyes turning to turbulent mercury. “And not just any senator, a senator being considered as a vice-presidential candidate. I don’t like this. I haven’t liked it from the moment they told us who the target was.”

“Hell, Ken. This is no innocent man,” his twin, Jack, replied, easing forward to get into a better position to cover the cabin. “You know that better than anyone else. I don’t know why the hell we’re protecting the son of a bitch. I want to kill him myself. This is the bastard who was the bait to lure you into the Congo. He got out and you were left there to be cut into little pieces and skinned alive.” The words were bitter, but Jack’s voice was utterly calm. “Don’t tell me you don’t think he was in on it. Any number of people might have ordered it. The senator set you up, Ken, handed you over to the rebel leader and Ekabela nearly killed you. I could whack him a hundred times and never lose sleep over it—or stand by and let him get whacked.”

“Exactly.” Ken rolled over, using care to keep the bushes surrounding him still. He hoped the darkness had hidden his slight wince when his twin brought up the past. He didn’t think about the torture much—being cut into tiny pieces, his back skinned—or how the knife felt slicing through his skin. But he had nightmares every time he closed his eyes. He remembered it all then. Every cut. Every slice. The agony that never stopped. He woke choking, covered in sweat, his own screams echoing deep inside where no one could ever hear. The deer hanging from meat hooks brought it all back in sharp, vivid detail. He couldn’t help but wonder if that was all part of a much larger plan.

He held out his hand, checking for tremors. The scars were rigid and tight, but his hand was rock steady. “Why do you think we were chosen to protect him? We have a grudge against this man. We know he’s more than everyone thinks, so who better to take him out without questions? Who better to blame it on? Something’s not right.”