Mind Game (GhostWalkers, #2)(95)

“There’s no one on the plane,” Max said. “She always flies alone with just me.”

“Not anymore she doesn’t,” Nicolas answered, his obsidian eyes as hard and as unflinching as rock. “Not since someone in the NCIS sold her out.”

Max stood very still, and then he slowly holstered his gun. “Dahlia, have you spoken with the director, told him about this?”

“No, but he has to be thinking the same thing. It wasn’t all that hard to figure it out. Someone killed my family and burned down my home, Max. No one knew about me other than a few people at NCIS.”

“Including me,” Max said quietly.

Dahlia shrugged, hating to voice the suspicion out loud. She had very few friends, if one could call them that. They were acquaintances really, but she didn’t have enough to throw them away. And she’d always liked Max.

“Her last mission was a setup,” Nicolas supplied, his black gaze unswerving.

A muscle jumped in Max’s jaw. He swore under his breath. “Jesse Calhoun is my friend, Dahlia. I’ve always felt responsible for you. You should have called for backup. Once I fly you somewhere, my orders are to stand by to fly you back, which is exactly what I did. You never said a word.”

“I was late.” She said it softly. “Two hours late.”

Max swore again.

“Get in the plane, Dahlia. I don’t like how exposed you are out here,” Nicolas ordered. “We can sort it out in the air.” Although he was grateful she obeyed him quickly, it was unlike her to do so without a comment on his arrogance, and that bothered him. Dahlia beaten down was too much for his heart to take. He stayed very close to her, almost pushing her with his body in an attempt to get a response from her, but she kept her head down.

The men moved in the same tight formation, Dahlia locked in the center while they escorted her to the waiting plane. Max followed her into the small compartment. “You should have said something, Dahlia. You should have at least reported it to the director. Henderson would have had me bring you in to protect you.”

“No one was supposed to know about me, Max,” Dahlia pointed out. She sounded weary, sad. Already moving away from them all. “What does that tell you? And how did they know where I lived?”

“You can’t think someone at the NCIS is involved.”

“When they sent a team in to find me at the safe house in the Quarter, someone took a shot at me. They knew right where to find my home in the bayou, Max. It isn’t that easy to find.” She didn’t look at him but kept her face averted.

Nicolas put his arm around her and drew her close, the grief in her voice twisting at his guts. “You can see why we’re not taking any chances.” He had already done his best to probe Logan Maxwell’s mind, but the man had strong barriers up. The same kind of barriers Lily Whitney had taught the GhostWalkers through mental exercises. He recognized the mark of Special Forces, a warrior trained and honed by battle. Maxwell wasn’t the type of man to back down easily, and Nicolas doubted if he could be bought.

They settled in the plane with Max behind the controls. “Jesse know about these men, Dahlia?”

“Nicolas is the one who pulled him out of the fire, Max,” Dahlia said quietly. “And if Jesse lives, it was Nicolas who saved him.”

Max glanced at Nicolas, noting the proprietary way he held Dahlia, the protective body language. “Then I owe you. Jesse’s a good friend of mine. You all better strap yourselves in for takeoff. I’m not hanging around just in case. I heard Jesse was in bad shape. The admiral went to see him, but wouldn’t disclose where he was, not even to us. And he wouldn’t say what happened to him or what kind of shape he’s in.”

“And that should tell you something,” Nicolas pointed out.

Dahlia looked from one man to the other. Nicolas could be terribly intimidating when he chose, and right now, he had his stone face on. His eyes were hard obsidian and his mouth was a merciless slash. He pinned Maxwell with his icy cold gaze and refused to let up.

“I suppose it does,” Max agreed with a heavy sigh. “I don’t want to believe it, but I’m afraid the evidence points that way.” The engine was already on and the plane began to vibrate as he went through his checklist automatically before taxiing down the runway.

Nicolas waited until they were in the air. “Jesse Calhoun is a GhostWalker, psychically enhanced. I’m guessing you are as well. How did Whitney get ahold of you? And do any of you have the physical and mental repercussions associated with the experiment?”

Max’s cool gaze swept over both Dahlia and Nicolas. “You know I can’t talk about that.”

“But you know Dahlia’s a GhostWalker.” Nicolas made it a statement. “It’s why they used both you and Calhoun. You’re anchors. She could travel with you without too many repercussions.” Just the mere fact that Maxwell knew the term GhostWalker spoke volumes.

“I’m not at liberty to discuss the matter,” Max intoned, staring straight ahead.

“You don’t have to. Calhoun recognized my name, and he knew what I was. He’s a strong telepath and there’s no way he was born that way. We also are aware Dr. Peter Whitney enhanced several men using his own private laboratory when complications began to arise from his military experiment. He didn’t want all his eggs in one basket, so to speak, and if we were all murdered, he had a few for backup, just in case.”