Street Game (GhostWalkers, #8)(75)

Silence fell in the room while the two began tracing through Paul’s private mail. Mack stayed way back, in the shadows, a good distance from the light spilling around the banks of computers. Trying to steel himself for the worst possible news wasn’t easy. Paul’s looks might be similar to Javier’s, but his personality wasn’t. Javier was edgy, dangerous, a man who took the slightest threat seriously. Paul appeared to be a boy looking for a place to settle. He seemed more like Jaimie, soft inside, wanting a home and family, not geared for combat.

The boy had joined them weeks ago and every member of his team subconsciously watched over the kid. They didn’t want him because he appeared to be a weak link and weak links got one killed. Mack frowned thinking about Paul. It wasn’t that he panicked. He had the nerves for combat. He was quiet and steady. He just seemed—young. Yet he was older than Jaimie. Was he undercover and very, very good at it? His stomach knotted. At this rate he was going to have one hell of an ulcer.

“Just out of curiosity, Jaimie,” Javier said, his voice low and casual, “if we’re going to make it an intellectual discussion. If the kid is really an assassin sent to spy and/or kill certain members of our team, what’s the best way to handle that situation?”

Jaimie glanced at him. Javier didn’t offer opinions on much very often. If he did, the others listened because he was making a worthwhile point. She knew him well enough to know he wasn’t being casual.

“Turn him over to the authorities.”

“Which authorities would that be, Jaimie? Sergeant Major, who both you and Mack obviously suspect is up to no good? Which, by the way, I suspected on the last mission when Kane and Brian ran into a firestorm. Someone set them up. If Mack hadn’t suspected something was wrong, both would be dead.”

She bit her lip. “Not Sergeant Major.”

“Above him? Go up the chain of command? Colonel Wilford? Wasn’t he the one Sergeant Major gave the evidence to?” Javier prompted.

“I don’t know. Someone.”

“That’s the problem, now, isn’t it, Jaimie? It’s Mack’s responsibility and there’s no one he can trust if he can’t trust Sergeant Major or Colonel Wilford. So tell me what to do here. You’re the one with the brains.”

“Javier,” Mack said quietly. “Leave her alone.”

“We’re just having an intellectual conversation here, boss,” Javier said. “She’s smart. Maybe she has ideas we can use when this kind of thing crops up and someone is holding a knife to our throats. What do you think, Jaimie?”

“I said back off,” Mack said. “I don’t want to have to tell you again.”

Jaimie felt a shiver go down her spine. Mack was protecting her again. He’d been protecting her for as long as she could remember, a young child facing school with far older, bullying children. Who knew why he’d made her his project, a little girl with eyes that took up half her face and a mop of unruly curls, but he had. He’d always been there, watching over her, insisting others treat her with respect and stopping anyone from making her feel uncomfortable.

What would she do if someone she knew, such as Sergeant Major, was sending her beloved family members on suicide missions? She was looking for evidence to expose him, but what if he had a plant in place ready to kill them and they had no evidence? Everything in her stilled. Her stomach did a curious flip. She condemned Mack for his very strength—the strength she leaned on.

Mack had to make the hard decisions to keep the rest of them safe and from having to do it. He was the cleanup man and the leader. Every mistake was his. He took the burden on his shoulders and accepted that weight. All the time she’d been thinking he didn’t accept her as she was, but in truth, he shielded her from the more difficult aspects of life. She was the one who didn’t accept him. She accepted his protection and strength and yet condemned him for it. That was what Javier was trying to tell her.

Mack had to know what Javier was doing, yet he still was willing to stop Javier to keep her from being upset. Was she such a child that she couldn’t accept real life? The good with the bad? Reality? Her hands shook as they flew over the keys, her mind searching for answers. What would she have Mack do? She hadn’t been able to pull the trigger and she blamed him for putting her in that position, but in reality, she’d chosen to be there. She was angry and ashamed that she hadn’t been able to do it. That she wasn’t as strong as he was. Mack knew that about her and he didn’t care. He accepted that she couldn’t be around violence or commit it herself. Was she punishing him for being stronger than her? She just didn’t know anymore, but she was beginning to have doubts about her reasoning.

“You know, boss, so far, he hasn’t reported anything at all about any of us or what we’ve done. He’s actually painting a rosier picture than he’s had it with us. These letters are short and more reassuring, like a kid writing home rather than reporting. Unless he has a code I can’t see.”

Jaimie shook her head. “I don’t see any pattern. I think they’re just letters.”

“Why would he hide them behind an elaborate security system?” Mack asked, coming up behind Jaimie and dropping his hands on her shoulders. His fingers dug into her sore muscles, massaging the tension from her. His touch was firm, but very gentle, as always. For all his enormous strength, Mack was always gentle. “Why would he be writing Sergeant Major?” Mack asked. “Come on, Jaimie, you’re smart. You’ve read a few. Who is he? What’s he saying? Why the sergeant major? You’re an analyst. Analyze.”