Of all the incredible blooms growing in this unprecedented garden, he was most surprised to find the Middlemist Red Camellia. Considered by most to be the rarest flower in the world, there were only two known surviving specimens of Middlemist Red in existence, and neither was growing in the wild. But here they were, several shrubs of them, planted close together and looking very healthy, with glossy leaves and spectacular showy blooms. Although the flowers looked like beautiful roses, the plant was really a camellia. And despite being named Middlemist Red, the blooms were actually a deep, bright pink.
Jonas inched closer to the rare camellias. As he approached, the shrub’s branches parted slightly, revealing a shadowy entrance hidden behind them. He went very still. The circle of shrubs were cleverly concealing the presence of a little house built into the side of the mountain. The small dwelling appeared to be constructed entirely from plants native to the forest. Evergreen tree boughs had been woven tightly together to form the walls and roof, vines threading through to tie them securely. Plants grew across the top of the roof, effectively hiding the lodging from aerial or satellite photography. The back of the house was tucked away beneath a rocky overhang, while the dense hedge of Middlemist Red shrubs completely concealed the dwelling from all other sides.
Jonas studied the little house, not moving a muscle. He doubted if the structure contained more than one or two rooms, unless it went back farther into the mountain. That was his biggest worry. Considering the mist, flowers and the woman commanding wild animals, the idea that Whitney was involved was logical. That meant the house could be an entrance to a far greater complex belowground. This could be the threat he was feeling, although it was still vague and distant. So far, he’d only sensed the presence of one woman.
He knew that women Whitney had experimented on had escaped his compound. He also knew that, rather than trusting the GhostWalker teams who aided their getaway, the women had followed their original plan and scattered to make it as difficult as possible for Whitney to reacquire them. The women were distrustful of any GhostWalker, any of the soldiers Whitney had experimented on. Who could blame them?
Jonas knew the women had all been taken from orphanages as children, raised under horrific conditions, used in Whitney’s scientific experiments so he could perfect his enhancement methods before he tried them on his soldiers. He raised the girls in a stark environment, training them to be soldiers, only to decide later to use them in his breeding program.
At first Whitney had paired specific couples, using pheromones so they would be attracted physically. He had hoped to create surgical strike teams composed of bonded couples, a man and a woman, so it would be easier for them to slip into any country without being identified as soldiers. The paired couple’s skills and enhancements would complement one another and enable the pair to handle any mission more effectively than an entire team of special ops soldiers. For all his evil, Whitney was an unswerving patriot. By creating bonded-pair teams of more efficient, more powerful supersoldiers, he was certain he would be saving American lives.
Later, he decided the next step in perfecting his enhancement program was to experiment on the children of the soldiers he created. He no longer bothered ensuring the women were attracted to the men he paired them with in his breeding program. It was no wonder the women didn’t trust anyone who had been enhanced by Whitney.
Jonas inhaled slowly. The camellias gave off no real fragrance. None. Still, he was certain there was a wholly feminine feel to the mist and weaves of illusion, to the binding of nature. It was too light, too subtle, to be a man’s hand. He had to be cautious. Whitney had trained female soldiers, and there could still be one or two active in his ranks. His heart wanted to accelerate, and he had to actively fight to keep the adrenaline from moving fast through his veins. He felt as if he were on the verge of a great discovery.
He couldn’t take chances. Kyle and Jeff were with him. Not only were their lives in his hands, but his team counted on him. He forced air through his lungs, careful to modify each exhalation to match the temperature and vapor content of the surrounding mist. He had no choice but to settle in and wait. That was what predators did. They had patience. They waited for prey. He was a phantom, unseen. He’d disappeared into thin air, and he could outwait anyone or anything.
2
Camellia Mist paced back and forth in the confines of her small house, feeling a bit like a caged animal. She felt a threat approaching across the periphery of her senses, but not a single one of her warning systems had raised an alarm. There were three men camping just inside the lines of her property. It had never happened before, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t. Besides, the threat didn’t feel as if it were coming from them.