Samurai Game (Ghostwalkers, #10)(30)

His arm circled her shoulders and he pulled her beneath his arm, but she doubted the gesture had anything to do with weakness. He didn’t feel weak at all. His body had no give to it, muscle flowing beneath his skin, almost as if he were made of steel. He didn’t lean on her, but she couldn’t let go of him. They walked in silence through the forest, avoiding the areas where there were dead bodies. She had no doubt the cleaners wouldn’t find anything useful to identify them. If the men in the Jeep had come back to kill the two fallen Mexican soldiers, fingerprints would be useless.

“You know they shot those soldiers to keep us from questioning them,” Thorn said.

Sam nodded, concentrating on each step. He wasn’t going to appear weak in front of her; after all, he did have some pride.

“The enemy didn’t want to leave anyone behind who could help us unravel the conspiracy.” The first bullets had gone to kill the dying soldiers, giving Azami and Sam a few seconds to escape. They’d been lucky. “We have dental and faces, even if no fingerprints. We’ll get a hit. And no one will lose our tails. We have one on the Jeep and one on the helicopter,” Sam assured. “We’re pretty good at what we do.”

Thorn looked up at his face and his breath caught in his throat. The sun slid through the heavy foliage and kissed her flawless skin. Her lashes fanned down, two thick crescents and her body moved against him in a rhythm that sent the now familiar heat coursing through his veins.

“I’m sure you are,” she replied.

With another woman he might consider she was throwing out an innuendo, but Azami didn’t flirt. What she’d given of herself to him had been freely given. She was extremely composed and very private. He counted himself very lucky that she’d responded to him at all.

“Daiki is . . .” She hesitated. “Important to the world. His work is unsurpassed by anyone as of yet and many countries would love to get their hands on him. It is virtually impossible to infiltrate our company. Our staff is kept small and is moved from country to country when needed.”

“How can your security be that tight? You have to hire . . .”

She was already shaking her head. “Sam, we are our own security. Everyone who works for Samurai Telecommunications is known to us since our childhood. The majority were trained by my father from the time they were children, and after his death, by one of his children. We employ family and family of family—if that makes sense.”

Sam knew it was a common business practice in Japan for employees to work for the same company for years and their children and children’s children to follow suit. He snuck a peek at the distance to the road. He could just make it if he concentrated and kept putting one foot in front of the other. He’d managed to block out the pain for some time, but now it was pounding at him hard, demanding acknowledgment. He didn’t want anything to interfere in the last hour or so he had alone with Azami. Once they were back in the compound, they might very well become enemies. Certainly, until they had satisfying answers, he would have to protect his team.

“It makes sense. And it’s smart. If Daiki is responsible for what I understand is groundbreaking software, who developed the optical lens? From what I understand there is nothing even coming close to it on the market?”

Azami glance up at his face. “I believe Lily has that information.”

“I didn’t think to ask her. I only know they were talking very excitedly about the satellite and what it could do for us.”

Azami shrugged. “He’s written up in all the magazines. It isn’t a secret. Eiji developed the lens. Between the two of them, there isn’t much they can’t do.”

“So Eiji is every bit as valuable as Daiki in the making of the newest satellite system. If he were to fall into the wrong hands, your company would pay a great deal to get him back. Or he could be forced to reproduce the lens to enable another faction to reproduce the satellite.”

The trees lining the road seemed to be getting farther away, not closer, which made absolutely no sense. Every step was like wading through quicksand, and if he remembered correctly, he was in forest, not swamp.

His mind seemed to stay sharp enough and his focus remained on Azami—every breath she took, the scent of her enveloping him, the way her soft hair slid against his arm and chest. He felt her tighten her arm around his waist. She was surprisingly strong for such a small woman. He shook his head. No, something important was eluding him, slipping through his mind so fast he couldn’t grasp it long enough to discover what it was.

He moistened his lips and looked down at the top of her silky head. “You’re really beautiful, Azami.”

Thorn looked up at Sam’s unguarded face. He was crashing fast. He’d lost too much blood and the Zenith had kept him going, but he was going to need medical attention fast. “Sam, call in your people now. Tell them you need a medic and blood.” She enunciated each word carefully. “Tell them you’re wearing two patches of second-generation Zenith.”

“That’s the important information.” He smiled down at her, as though happy she’d helped him remember.

Thorn nearly groaned. He was very far gone. “Sam. Call in your people right now. Tell them to come now.”

He stumbled to a halt and stood there swaying, rubbing at the frown lines between her eyes with his fingertip as if that was far more important than his wounds. “How would you know about second-generation Zenith being in existence? Only we know about that. And how did you have access to it?”