Street Game (GhostWalkers, #8)(111)

Jaimie sagged against Mack in defeat, her heart going out to the grieving parents, to the terrified children. She had to go. She knew what it was going to cost, though.

I’ll be with you, Jaimie, Mack reminded. We’re getting better at blending our energies. And you’re stronger. We can do this.

I guess we have to, she conceded. “I guess I’m going with you.”

Griffen smiled. “With your ability you can walk in and take them back without a fight.”

“You and I both know it’s impossible to control a situation like this. Most of it is pure luck,” Jaimie argued. “And good intel.”

“Well, we have you for that,” Griffen said. Now that she’d capitulated, he was in a better mood. “General Chun is a fine man, a man any military man would respect. He has a code of honor. But let me tell you all, right now he’s afraid, terrified even, and a man like Chun should never have such a look in his eyes. I didn’t meet the little girl’s parents but you know her brother, you went to the university with him and trained with him before you became GhostWalkers.”

Jaimie’s teeth bit into her lip again. There had been one recruit from North Korea, and she should have recognized the name. Kim-son Song. He had spoken of his younger sister often. She’d been born many years after him—an unexpected gift, he called her.

It was Mack who actually voiced the question, Mack the field commander, Mack who felt totally responsible for his men. “Does he know?”

“Yes. He’s been briefed. He blames himself of course, but we’re fairly certain she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

Jaimie let out her breath and glanced at Mack’s face. He’d gone utterly still, even his black eyes appeared lifeless. Kim-son Song had been in his command, an invaluable asset in Europe and the Eastern Bloc nations. Most important, he was a friend. Jaimie instinctively held out her hand. For a moment, Mack didn’t move, and then his eyes touched her face. Empty. Cold. Jaimie shivered under his gaze, a sudden tremor of fear rising. There was something very dangerous buried deep in Mack. Jaimie didn’t like the rare occasions she caught glimpses of that lurking monster.

Mack fought back the demons clawing at his gut. Innocent children this time. Who would use children as pawns? Someone had hired Doomsday to do their dirty work, to carry out their idea. Doomsday had no personal agenda other than to make money.

Everything in him rose up to do battle with the abductors, a berserker’s cold, deadly rage. He detested terrorists—murderers. There was no excuse to kill the innocent. There was no excuse for using political agendas to murder untrained civilians.

His gaze focused on Jaimie’s transparent face. He could easily read the jumble of confused emotions. Fear was among them. Instantly he made himself take a deep, calming breath and relax. He softened the hard angles and planes of his face with a smile as he laced his fingers through hers.

“It’s okay, baby; we’ll get them back.” He sat down, cradled her in his lap, his arms strong and comforting. His Jaimie. She had such a gentle heart, thinking only of the children and their families with compassion. The truth was, he wanted swift, brutal retaliation against the perpetrators. His fingers tangled in the blue black silk of her hair. God, but she overwhelmed him with intense emotion. Love. Whatever one called it.

“Do we know who’s behind this? Does General Chun have any ideas?”

“A few. There are a couple of powerful people who believe that if the United States was caught resorting to the kidnapping and murdering of children, the world would make concessions on their nuclear program.”

“So he wants prisoners.”

Jaimie stiffened. “If we turn those men over to the general, you know what he’ll do to them. We can’t do that.”

“They took his son, Jaimie,” Griffen pointed out. “He has a right to question them. We can’t do it. We can’t let anyone know we were even there.”

Her breath hissed out between her teeth. She looked around the room and knew immediately none of the men had the least bit of sympathy for the terrorists.

“What do you want us to do with them, Jaimie?” Javier asked.

“That’s enough,” Mack intervened.

“No, he has the right to ask,” Jaimie said. “Everyone’s entitled to their opinion, especially if we’re all going in, risking our lives. I’d rather see them dead than tortured, Javier. And imprisoned rather than dead.”

“I can arrange their deaths,” Javier agreed and turned to Sergeant Major, one eyebrow raised in inquiry.

Griffen shook his head. “As much as we’d like to settle things that way, we can’t. We have to pull those kids out of there without a shot fired. No one can know. We’ll get them out of China and back into General Chun’s hands immediately. You tranquilize whoever you find and walk away. I mean it. Leave them where they lie and get those kids out of there. That’s your part of the mission.”

“Is that all? You’re sending us in without bullets?” Mack asked.

“It has to be this way,” Griffen said. “You’re ghosts. Get in and get out. We don’t have much time. We can’t take the chance that they’ll move those kids again. It’s one of their favorite tactics with hostages, moving them every few days to a new location.”