Samurai Game (Ghostwalkers, #10)(101)
“Sir,” Ryland said, clearing his throat. “It would be best if you didn’t act in any way as if you suspect someone is relaying information to anyone on your staff.”
The general drew himself up, an impressive man who had earned the right to be called a four-star general. He squared his shoulders and looked down his nose at Ryland. “I assure you, Captain, I’m quite capable of taking care of myself. You just bring my team home safely. Every damn soldier comes home alive, you understand me?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Sam, with me.” The general indicated with a jerk of his chin.
Sam followed his foster father from the war room, as all the men rose and saluted. The general walked with his measured steps, his bearing absolutely erect, his posture perfect. He waited until they were a good distance away from the others before he turned to face his foster son. Sam could see the lines of age settling into his face, the gray of his hair, the signs that the man, in spite of his excellent physical condition and diet, was growing old and maybe a little tired of the weight of responsibility he’d assumed for so many years.
He put his hand on Sam’s shoulder, indicating they were speaking as father and son. “How are you really, Sam? I don’t like that you’ve been targeted once and now you’re being sent into the Congo to get ambushed. Worse, I’m being used to send my own boy into a firefight. I want a medical report from your doctor giving you full clearance or I can’t sign off on this, regardless of how proud I am that you’re choosing to go.”
“I’m really fine, sir. I know I’ll get full medical clearance. I hope you understand why I have to do this. I could never look any of the others in the eye if I didn’t. If someone is out to get me, I’d rather have my chance at them.”
“They’re using a ragtag army of ruthless, brutal rebels who care nothing for anyone. Not women, children, their country, or anything else. They love to torture and kill. And if they get their hands on you . . .” The general trailed off to shake his head. “You saw what they did to Ken Norton. That wouldn’t be anything if they got their hands on you.”
“Then I’ll be certain not to let that happen,” Sam assured.
General Ranier sighed and rubbed his jaw. “Sam, I don’t play favorites, I never have, not even with you. This is different. Whitney’s behind these orders and he’s targeted you specifically for whatever purpose.”
Ranier had never really discussed Peter Whitney with him before, and Sam was astounded. The general really had to be worried to talk so openly when he was used to playing things close to his chest. He never talked at home about his work, not even with his wife.
“I’m aware of that, sir. He won’t succeed.”
“This girl you think you’ve fallen in love with . . .”
“I have fallen in love with her.” Sam looked him directly in the eye. “I’m no kid, long past the age of looking for a woman because I’m joining the service and want someone waiting for me. You know I don’t work that way. She’s the one. We just fit. We make sense. And she makes me happy, just having her around. This is it for me.”
“And you’re certain there is no tie between her and Whitney? Do you really think it’s a coincidence that she shows up and you get attacked by Iranian soldiers, mercenaries, and known members of the Mexican cartel?”
“She saved my life and helped me kill most of them.”
The general stood there for several moments in silence. “Do you have any idea who she is? Azami Yoshiie is part owner of one of the biggest companies in the world. Countries, governments would kill for their satellites. She’s amassed a fortune, and it’s said that every person working for her is loyal and can’t be bribed. Believe me, there isn’t a government that hasn’t tried to get their hands on that software through every means possible.”
“Are you trying to warn me that if I marry her, my government may come to me and ask me to steal documents for them? I will have nothing to do with her company. I’m a soldier, sir, like you, and I’ll always be a soldier, certainly not a corporate spy.”
“You have the brains to work with her,” General Ranier pointed out. “You do. You always have. You could do anything at all, Sam.”
Sam realized that the general was telling him it was okay with him if he left the military and went into the private sector. For the first time, he was aware that the general, as gruff and incapable of showing affection as he was, really cared for him. He worried like any other father might.
“Thank you, sir. I appreciate you thinking that I could. I’m happy doing what I do. I’m good at it. I fit in here with this team. And I fit with Azami. We’ll find a way to make it work.”
“Some women are content with part of a man. They understand that we’re just as married to our unit and our buddies as we are to them. They know they won’t know where we are or what we’re doing half the time, only that it’s dangerous work. Other women have to be a full partner. You have to know which kind you’re thinking of marrying, Sam. If it’s the wrong kind, you’ll never make it.”
“She’s a GhostWalker, sir,” Sam said. “She’s a soldier, just like I am. She understands what and who I am, and I understand her.”
“She’s a citizen of Japan, and that’s where her loyalties lie,” General Ranier pointed out.