Deadly Game (GhostWalkers, #5)(81)

Mari was a woman who wanted control of her life—deserved control of her life. He was a man whose entire being demanded that he be the one in utter and complete control of those around him. He knew it appeared to people that Jack seemed the dominant twin, always in the lead, but Ken had realized early on that Jack needed to feel in control, in much the same way Mari did, and he had stepped back, watching over his brother carefully, always protecting him, providing the environment Jack needed.

Ken tried to remember when he’d first made the decision to be Jack’s front man in social situations—it had to be right after their father had been killed. He had cultivated a smooth smile and quick intervention. Jack, like Ken, was a dead-on accurate shot. It was a gift both had been born with. They worked well as a team, each looking out for the other, Ken allowing Jack whatever he needed to be able to survive. But to do the same for Mari was impossible. He needed her to be safe. He needed that.

“We came in using the river to avoid detection, but our team will need to use high altitude, low opening parachutists,” Ken said. “You know they aren’t going to look up unless they hear something, and they won’t hear a thing if our boys come in using HALO. Our team is trained, and I’d rather use them then people we’re not as familiar working with. We can pull a few strings and cancel a commercial flight at the last moment. There’s enough regular air traffic over the area that no one’s going to perceive a threat if we take the commercial flight path and altitude. Whoever is doing the monitoring will never suspect a thing.”

Jack nodded. “Definitely the best plan. The guards are not alert. Nothing’s shaken them up in the last couple of years.”

“Ryland’s men can back us up, but call in Logan and tell him we want our unit for this one.”

Jack nodded in agreement. “That’s a given, Ken, and already done. The men know it’s personal to you, and they’re already assembled and waiting for the intel. They’re not going to let you down.”

Ken knew Jack was right, but it didn’t unravel the knots in his belly. “I’m checking the doctor’s house. He just went in.” He indicated the small bluff overlooking the cottages. “I’ll work my way down to that point and go in from there. You cover me.”

“Checking the doctor’s house for what?” Jack asked. “You can’t just go in there and blow this for us.”

“He took pictures of her.”

“That’s his job. He had to have left them in the laboratory.”

“I’m making certain. And I’m going to find out where in the laboratory he left them.”

“Damn it, Ken. You can’t take a chance on tipping anyone off to the fact that we’re here. Just stay put.”

“He’s got pictures and he knows where the other pictures are. He touched her, Jack—when she was helpless and he was supposed to be examining her impersonally—he touched her.”

Mari had toned her emotions down, had even pulled away from him, but not before he’d caught the distaste, the feeling of utter helplessness, the mixture of sorrow, despair, and impotent rage that he knew intimately. He couldn’t get Mari out of there and away to somewhere safe in that moment, but he sure as hell could pay the doctor a little visit. He might never be able to give Mari all the things she deserved—like a stable, easygoing partner—but he could hand the pictures—and her dignity—back to her.

Jack rubbed his mouth to keep from protesting. Nothing was going to stop Ken and Jack couldn’t blame him. If it was Briony, the man would already be dead. For the first time in his life, Jack feared for his brother’s sanity. Mari was an unknown, but she was his wife’s twin sister and his brother’s chosen woman and that made her both important and a threat to his family’s well-being.

Ken was, and always had been, a dangerous man. He was, by turns, controlled and deliberate, cold and efficient, and always capable of swift and brutal violence if the situation called for it. Where Jack was easy for those around him to read, Ken appeared easygoing and affable. The men in their unit found him much more approachable. Jack had always known on some level that Ken had forced himself to be the “front” man in an effort to protect his twin. He hadn’t realized, until now, how foreign that behavior had been to Ken’s nature.

Ken had the same hidden demons—the same nightmares and fears—and he had an even stronger dose of their father’s legacy—the dark jealousies and need for swift and violent retribution. Ken had worn a mask all those years, hiding—even from his twin—the rage seething just below the surface. Between the trauma of his recent capture and torture and meeting Mari, Ken’s way of life had been turned upside down. The smooth, easygoing fa?ade was gone.

Jack sighed and glanced at his watch. “Don’t get caught. I’d hate to have to kill anyone before we even get started.”

Ken reached out to tap his brother’s knuckles with his own in their familiar silent ritual. He scooted back into the foliage, careful to keep the thin branches from swaying as he passed through. Moving at a snail’s pace, Ken inched his way down the hillside until he was within a few yards of the cottage he was fairly certain was the doctor’s. The small house was set just a little apart from the other houses, and security was tighter. The guards walked the perimeter every ten minutes, two of them, switching their routine continually. The doctor had something to hide.