Street Game (GhostWalkers, #8)(117)

Jaimie moved through the immaculate expanse of lawn toward the roped-off area where the newest landscaping was allegedly taking place. She paused now and then to sift through the sounds of the night, reading the information, unconsciously seeking touch with the others. The peculiar brush of wings fluttered in her brain. She went still, crouching in the wet grass, one with the night. Up ahead, she warned.

Mack’s hand went to her shoulder. How many?

Kane dropped back to give her the lead. It was up to her to take them through enemy lines without getting caught.

Two. Jaimie moved forward again toward the mounds of freshly dug soft earth. Rocks were piled everywhere, seemingly at random, but on closer inspection they formed several high walls.

Jaimie crept forward, a slim shadow blending in with the night. One of the guards gave a muffled sneeze. The second guard responded with a low, muttered word of caution. The two men were in the comparative shelter of some boulders. Mack touched her shoulder and she dropped down.

We’ve got Shepherd and Estes, Mack identified to the team. Make it count.

Jacob moved up beside him, as silent as a wraith. He tugged at his gloves until he had them off and lifted both palms toward the two men and the foundation of the building. We’ve got a couple of boomers. They’re definitely wired. Possibly the building. I’ll have to get closer.

Mack signaled Javier and Kane forward. Javier practically slid over Jaimie’s body as he crawled into position. Mack moved as well, putting himself in a better position to cover his two men. Jaimie aimed the tranq gun and waited, her blood a roar in her ears.

Javier and Kane proceeded forward, moving on the ground, shadows within the shadows until they were in plain sight, but within range. Jaimie’s breath caught in her throat when one of the guards—Shepherd—looked right at Kane. Kane didn’t move a muscle and the slight breeze sent another finger of misty rain spraying across the excavated area. Shepherd turned his head toward Estes to say something. He never got the chance. Javier and Kane squeezed the triggers, and the darts hit nearly simultaneously right behind the left ear of Shepherd and the right of Estes. The sentries staggered backward, hands to their necks in reflex, and then slid to the ground in a weirdly choreographed ballet.

Jacob, can you deal with the bombs? I don’t want them waking up early and blowing our Marines up.

Jacob crawled forward until he was leaning over one of the downed guards. Kane retrieved the darts and pocketed them. Jacob began to work, his movements deft and carefully controlled. It took him several minutes of precious time to disarm the bombs both men were wearing around their middles like vests.

Clear. Jacob pulled back and tugged on his gloves.

Mack tapped Jaimie to signal her back into lead position. She let her breath out. She couldn’t make a mistake. All of their lives depended on her. She should have been quaking, but there was something both undefined and exhilarating to be part of the team again. The men never hesitated, following her without question, believing in her. She’d forgotten what that felt like, the implicit trust of teammates when their lives were in her hands.

Jaimie crawled forward, breathing in the scent of the night, her senses flaring out to check for more sentries. Her energy spread, reached out, seeking more, calling it to her like a magnet. She encountered emptiness. Clear, Jaimie hissed in their minds. Certain this time. She was getting a feel for the energy she sent out now, the strength of it, the way it worked. She’d never really known before and, in truth, she’d been afraid to depend on it.

The team members spread out. They were black shadows quartering the ground inch by inch, searching for the entrance to the tunnel. They moved in unison, fitting together easily. Kane and Mack dropped back to Jaimie’s position, their bodies close enough to touch hers. It was a protection from the wind and as much comfort and reassurance as they could give her under the circumstances.

Jaimie was into the rhythm, her finely tuned mind and expertly trained body pushing away all nightmares to allow her to concentrate on the job at hand. To her, that meant protecting the team, making certain they were not caught unaware in a dangerous trap. At any moment, they could be discovered by a wandering marine, or worse, the terrorist unit could go on full alert. She was grateful for the thoughtful way Mack and Kane were treating her, but only one small part of her mind registered it. Everything else was listening, tuning in, waiting for the warning rattles all of their lives were depending on.

Here, boss, Javier said. The voice was a soft blur in her mind, the tone calm and businesslike.

The mists and fog deepened, thickened, swirling around them, enveloping them. The rain was more a haze, but it seeped into their clothes as they moved up to the large boulder. It had to be moved and this would be the most dangerous moment. There would be noise and the added draft the moment they removed the block from the entrance. The tunnel had been completely filled in. Those digging wouldn’t have excavated deep under the buildings, just enough to hide a small contingency until they could wreak their havoc. She could hear the blood pumping through her veins, a kind of rhythm with the whisper of drizzling mist. Her pulse drummed in time to the soft beat of drops dripping from the sky.

Mack glanced at her again. This was her moment. She had to know, to be certain. Jaimie sent her energy out, seeking again. It bounced like radar along the narrow tunnel walls and then into a wider opening. She nodded and stood clear as he gripped the boulder. The muscles bunched beneath his shirt. She caught a glimpse of strain on his face. She knew ordinarily it would take more than one man to move that large boulder, but he slid it aside just enough for them to slip through.