Spider Game (GhostWalkers, #12)(71)
As Cayenne continued to spin silk through the branches, she felt the first light tremor on one of her feelers. Instantly she crawled down the tree trunk, headfirst, moving in silence, following the thread back to the danger. In those few moments going down the tree, she pushed all humanity from her mind and became pure spider.
Long ago, when she’d been first pitted against enemies trying to kill her, she realized that allowing the huntress to come to the forefront, to think of herself only as a spider, was the only way she could kill and survive intact. If she thought too much about what she was doing, knowing she was hunting human beings, she couldn’t have done it, but they were enemies, sent to kill her. That reduced the battle to kill or be killed. That, the huntress could cope with.
Her enemies never hesitated. Each and every one of them hunted her through the labyrinth with only one intention. She read people. She felt the cruelty in them, or the indifference – or most especially, revulsion. They were eager to kill her. Every single one of them. She hadn’t done anything to them nor did she want to harm them in any way, but if she wanted to live, she had to make the decision to kill. Whitney had forced that on her. That choice. Now he sent another team for the same thing.
She moved through the trees, following the feeler. The closer she got to the soldier, the more she knew about him. Her senses reached out along the silk. He was average height. Not nervous. If anything, he was giving off supremely confident vibrations. That gave her pause and she sank down exactly where she was. Anyone going into battle, even seasoned veterans, were cautious when facing enemies like the pararescue team – all enhanced soldiers. The termination team had to have been briefed on what they were up against. One of them had come into the little boutique and obviously recognized the men inside. They knew. So why would he be so confident?
She wasn’t careless and she didn’t have anything to prove. She could take her time and assess the situation. The soldier had disturbed the silken thread, but he hadn’t moved. He hadn’t moved. He knew the feeler was there. He had to know. That meant they were looking for her silk. Which meant he was the bait to draw her out. Their sniper had to be in the trees somewhere with a clear line to the soldier’s position.
Cayenne began to move again, this time circling around behind the soldier. She couldn’t get to the sniper. He could be yards away, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t take down the bait. There was no whisper of sound as she used a rabbit trail to make her way behind the silk.
She spotted the soldier, his back to her, his automatic weapon in his hands, ready to use. He kept sweeping the area alertly and several times he nodded his head and moved slightly to his left. A footstep, no more. Clearly following instructions. This team had telepathic communication. Not all of Whitney’s supersoldiers had been capable of that.
The sniper was lining up his shot for the maximum coverage. The soldier had chosen to disturb a feeler more exposed than the others. They thought she would have to expose herself to a bullet in order to take him down.
She took a deep breath and allowed the vibrations the soldier gave off to swamp her. He was eager for the kill. Eager to be the one who finally was able to kill the poisonous spider they all dreaded so much. She’d killed so many teams, and yet he would have the glory and bragging rights once he drew her out.
She concentrated on his legs, from his knees down. Silk shot out and began to wrap him. Loose at first so he couldn’t possibly feel it. The sniper wouldn’t be looking at the soldier’s legs. Not at first. She wrapped him fast, tightening the threads with a vicious snap. He toppled instantly, going over backward. At once she spun more silk, wrapping his arms and the weapon he held, taking care to clog the trigger to prevent him from firing.
A bullet slammed into the ground six feet behind her. The marksman was firing blind, trying to save his spotter. She didn’t even flinch. She kept spinning the silk until the soldier was completely wrapped from head to toe like a mummy. He couldn’t move. He could barely breathe. Two more bullets hit in rapid succession, each one closer. The sniper was guessing where she was by the way she’d wrapped her enemy.
Report in. Trap’s voice was sharp, pouring into her mind.
Perfectly fine. She delivered her news abruptly, closing down the path between them. She couldn’t think like a human. She couldn’t be emotional. Trap made her that way. With him, she was all about feeling, and she couldn’t risk it.
Cayenne moved then, retaining the strongest line, woven with several strands. As she slipped to her right, in denser cover, she flattened herself behind two larger cypress trees, staying inside the “knees” protruding from the ground all around. At some point the area had been underwater and the tree had grown the knees in order to survive. She was able to fold herself in one of the knobby barrels.
Cayenne was enormously strong, especially for her size. No one would ever attribute that strength to her, but even though she felt the heavy drag of the soldier’s weight, she knew, from experience, that she could move him. She yanked hard and the body slid toward her. Not a lot. A few inches. But that was enough, all she needed. Instantly another shot rang out. This one clipped the tree, showering the area with splinters of bark. She already had the soldier where she wanted. His head and neck were in the shadows. In the foliage and behind the ring of cypress knees, she delivered the fatal bite and slipped away, leaving the soldier staring with lifeless eyes up at the sky through the leaves.