Street Game (GhostWalkers, #8)(119)

There’s something else here, boss, Jacob said. I found a switch. A remote. There’s another bomb somewhere. Koit’s got it right in his front jacket pocket.

Mack swore. Come on, Jaimie. There must be another guard. And Armstice. Find them.

Jaimie skirted around the two downed terrorists, ignoring the fact that small beads of sweat had formed on Jacob’s forehead. She’d taken apart dummy bombs before. It wasn’t quite the same thing as working with the real deal.

Concentrate, baby, don’t think about what he’s doing. And don’t think about the children. Just find me those men.

Mack never called her “baby” during a mission. He was always very professional. She glanced at his face. He looked at her with worried eyes. She forced a smile. I’m fine, Mack. Give me a minute. So far, Mack’s energy had kept the pain at bay, but they were in the lion’s den and the violent energy surrounding the terrorists ripped and stabbed at her, the sensation very much like ice picks stabbing into her skull.

She took a deep breath, careful to keep her trembling hands behind her back where Mack’s watchful eyes couldn’t see. Javier was behind them, but he was facing back the way they’d come, watching their backtrail. Jacob kept his head down, intent on disarming the vest of explosives wrapped around Carlyle. Jaimie sent her energy rushing down the narrow tunnel, into the darkness.

As if she’d summoned the devil, energy rushed at her, forceful, ugly, extremely violent and evil. It punched through the shield Mack created around her, tearing at the fabric of her energy, shredding it. With it came fear. Pain. Terror. Rage. Both feminine and masculine and very young. She felt the victims, became entwined with them. She staggered under the assault and would have gone down, but Jacob caught her elbow and steadied her as she sagged against him. She felt him reach out to surround her with his strength and love. He shielded her without reserve, with the love of a brother—a teammate. With confidence in her ability to stand up to the assault.

Top. There was caution in Jacob’s warning, but no panic.

His voice and quiet support and loyalty steadied her as nothing else could have. She pushed through the violent energy swarming her and forced her way down the tunnel. One guard standing about halfway down. He’s watching Armstice and the children. It wasn’t her job to figure out how they were going to get the guard before he could warn Armstice, only to report to Mack the position of the enemy and the children. Seconds ticked away. Every moment was dangerous and life threatening.

You can do this, Jaimie. Give me Armstice’s exact position. You can find him.

She knew what he was planning then. She moistened her lips. Kane could see through things. He was going to use his eyesight to pierce the dirty blanket at the end of the crumbling tunnel and try to dart Armstice while Mack took out the last guard. She had to give Kane an idea of where to look. He’d only have seconds before his sight shut down on him. It was a terrible risk to use that particular talent and it would leave him without sight for a brief amount of time.

She didn’t protest. If Kane was willing to risk his sight and go out of the tunnels blind, then she was courageous enough to push right into Armstice’s violent energy no matter what it did to her. She would give Kane the best chance possible. She didn’t wait. She rushed the energy, shoving deep, uncaring that it attacked, clawing and pulling her apart. She got a good silhouette of him, as well as a taste of evil that she knew would never quite leave her mind.

She sent the picture to Kane, paying particular attention to the head and neck. Armstice stood over the young male who had positioned his body as best he could between the terrorist and young Mi-cha. Armstice kicked him in the ribs repeatedly and then crouched down, pressing the tip of his blade just under Dae-sub’s eye.

Jaimie’s stomach churned. She held her energy in place, although it fought her, wanting to curl away from the violence in the surroundings. It seemed forever, but she knew only a couple of seconds passed. Jacob kept his hand on her arm.

Both Kane and Mack squeezed the triggers. The guard hit the ground hard. His gun rolled out of his hand. Armstice slumped forward, falling directly on the teenage boy as he lay on the ground, hands tied behind his back, unable to protect himself from the large body as it toppled over him.

Kane sank to one knee in the soft dirt, covering his eyes. Jaimie immediately took his place, gripping her weapon and following Mack into the lower region, deeper into the bowels of the earth. Dirt fell continuously, sliding with an ominous rumble, just small dusty trickles, but it was distracting and alarming. The walls tapered and crumbled as they neared the end of the corridor. Mack had to walk bent over, but she merely ducked her head a little.

Mack paused to retrieve the dart, pocket it, and then push the terrorist’s jacket open. He’s wired, Jacob.

I expected it, Jacob admitted as he followed them down the narrow tunnel to the fallen terrorist’s side.

Mack kept the weapon in his hands and nodded to Jaimie. She caught the edges of the dirty blanket and ripped it down. Mack covered Armstice. Be careful, Jaimie. Stay back. The kids are probably wired as well. These guys were prepared to take the place down before they were taken into custody.

Water seeped through the walls and steadily dripped overhead. Everything smelled dank and moldy, mingling with the scent of blood. Mack stepped into the cramped, hollowed-out space. She could barely make out the two hostages, tied together at the far end of the room.