Street Game (GhostWalkers, #8)(93)

“Plan of action?” Griffen echoed.

“Let’s take the guns,” Mack said. “We’re GhostWalkers. We get in and get out like the ghosts we are. No one knows we’re here. Madigan loses his shipment and Shepherd either is dead or goes home empty-handed. We don’t have a lot to lose.”

“You have to track them,” Griffen said.

Mack shook his head. “We don’t have to track the weapons. We’ve got four of them here. We only need to let one of them get away. We just have to figure out how to put one of those nice little homing chips under his skin.”

“I see your point.”

“Is Rhianna still out of the country?” Mack asked.

Griffen nodded. “There’s no way to use her. She’s still on loan to the Mossad, Mack. I can’t pull her back. Can we use Jaimie?”

“No way. Don’t even think about it. Jaimie doesn’t work as a field operative. Rhianna can handle it, but not Jaimie. It was just a thought because we know her. We’ll find another solution.”

Joe’s coming toward the warehouse, Mack. Don’t let Javier kill him.

He is over six feet, Mack pointed out.

The sound of Gideon’s laughter pushed into his mind, lightening his mood. There is that, boss. He’s a pretty bastard, isn’t he?

Jaimie looked at him.

Gideon’s amusement increased. Well, I could see why he needs to die, then. Six feet, good-looking, and Jaimie looking at him. He’s a dead man walking.

Mack laughed softly. “Joe’s at the door. Kane, you want to bring him up? Gideon thinks Javier might do him in and, although I tend to agree with Javier on who needs killing most of the time, we might have need of Joe.”

“I read in the reports that many of you have become more aggressive,” Griffen said. “I’m beginning to think it’s true.”

Mack stayed silent. He might trust Sergeant Major with his own life, but he was not going to report that their psychic talents were growing stronger. Or that Gideon and Joe had a different energy that helped make it impossible for other psychics to spot them. Jaimie was amazing with the things she could do—especially that. The GhostWalkers, including Paul now, had to stick together and believe in one another. They had no other choice. The deck was stacked against them. In the end, Sergeant Major had spent a lifetime in the Corps. He might feel compelled to report when asked, and Mack wasn’t going to put him in the position of choosing between his men and his career.

Coming in, Mack, Kane sent.

“Paul, can you manage to make it over here to the table?” Mack asked.

“No problem, boss.” The kid was game and Mack’s respect for him grew. Using psychic ability was draining and performing surgery psychically had to drain one’s strength even more. Paul hadn’t complained once.

Marc and Lucas closed in from either side and helped him as he staggered over to the table. Mack pretended not to notice. The kid deserved his pride remaining intact. Paul dropped into a chair, taking the one just out of the light, probably to keep anyone from noticing a resemblance to his father. The pair had become adept at distancing their relationship publicly.

Joe was wary, looking around, noting each man, his gaze dwelling for a moment on Ethan, the IV, blood, and Jaimie lying asleep, so pale, beside the obviously wounded man. He waited for Kane to move in front of him before crossing into the kitchen area.

“Looks like you’ve had some trouble,” he greeted. His gaze shifted to the sergeant major and back to Jaimie and Ethan.

“You could say that,” Mack agreed.

“Is Jaimie all right? And your man?”

“Ethan Myers,” Mack provided. “Jaimie’s tired. She gave blood. Ethan will be fine.” He said it with more confidence than he felt. “Everyone, this is Joe Spagnola.” He waved his hand toward the table. “You want to sit down?”

“Maybe over here,” Joe said. He stayed clear of the light, away from the window, and where he knew no one had slipped behind him.

Mack sighed. “Joe, if we wanted you dead, it would have happened the first time you came up and we had a gun on you.”

Joe winced. He hadn’t spotted the man. “Which one of you?”

Mack gestured toward the bed. “There’s your man right there. He took a knife for the sergeant major.”

“I’ve got to meet him. He’s damn good.”

“All my men are good,” Mack said. “I thought, since you were hanging around, you might want some action.”

“You’re talking about the tough guys hanging around.”

“They’re Doomsday. They’re sniffing around the wharf looking for their weapons. They had a deal with an arms dealer named Madigan. He’s known far and wide as the Spider. He likes tats, has about a dozen spiderwebs covering his back and torso and down his arms. We think the weapons are in the warehouse at the end of the block. The deal was set and Madigan had a heart attack and is in intensive care at the hospital.”

“You taking the guns?” Joe asked.

“We’re not taking the chance of them falling into terrorist hands. We’ll take the weapons and tag a couple of the suspects. If they lead us to the nest, we can wipe them out for good.”

“Any chance of making the deal ourselves and taking them out that way?”