Street Game (GhostWalkers 8)

They nodded.

"Javier, once you're in that coffee shop, you work fast, but if Jaimie's threatened at any time, get her out of there. Don't worry about Sergeant Major or any of us. Get her clear and keep her safe."

Javier threw a quick, taunting grin toward Jaimie. "You got that, little sister? I get to order you around."

Mack leaned close. "Get this, Javier. She doesn't come out of this with one scratch on her. Not one."

Javier threw his hands into the air. "I got it, Top. I'm all over her." He winked at Jaimie and then wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

That earned him another glare. Javier laughed. "You got it bad, boss man."

"You're going to get it bad in another minute," Mack threatened, but the dire warning lost a lot since the others were laughing at him. He knew when to give it up. "You all know what to do. We've done this a hundred times. Let's bring him home safe. Take your positions."

His team nodded and began to drift away. He caught Jaimie's arm. "Once you're in the coffee shop, Jaimie, you're exposed. You're a sitting duck if they realize what's happening. Position yourself away from the windows."

He was reluctant to let her go. He'd wanted her working with him, but now everything had changed. He knew her energy was unusual, that it worked differently, but until Paul had given him an explanation, he hadn't really understood why working around violence was so difficult for her. Now he knew, not only was it difficult, it was dangerous.

"I'll be fine, Mack," she assured.

His hand slid down her arm to her wrist, his thumb sliding back and forth in a little caress. "Trust Javier. He's cocky, Jaimie, but he's good. Really good. He'll keep you alive for me." He leaned over and pressed his forehead to hers. "Just keep your head down and the ball cap on. Wear glasses and your hair up."

"Nothing will happen to me, Mack," she affirmed. "I have the easy job. Javier has to boost the cell phone. He'll be in the line of fire."

"Javier is safe from the devil," Mack said, although there was an edgy note in his voice.

Jaimie smiled at him. He was like that, worrying about everyone before, during, and after a mission. "Sergeant Major is going to be fine. I was wrong about him, Mack."

"Let's just hope you were."

"No, this makes more sense. He would never have allowed anyone to compromise secret missions, but for the sake of his son, he'd definitely go a long way to protect the boy. Even then, he had to have known whoever this is running him is not against the United States, or he would have put a bullet in his own head. You know he would have. He counted on you--on all of us--to figure it out."

"I was slow," Mack said. "He'll have a few things to say to me about that."

Jaimie slid her laptop into the case. "Hopefully we'll get to hear." With a cheeky grin she opened the door of the van and exited, heading toward the coffee shop.

Mack moved into place, checking that each of his men was in the optimum location to follow Sergeant Major's progress when he arrived and spot anyone tailing him.

Union Square was teeming with life, just as it was every evening. He had deliberately chosen the square because of the natural topography. The square was a giant sloping bowl shape. From the surrounding sidewalks and buildings anyone in the park could be seen. The concert stage and open-aired cafe provided easy places for his people to move in and out through the crowd to watch for anyone shadowing Sergeant Major.

The sky had already turned a purplish shade of blue, and shadows clung to the high, towering buildings, spilling gloomy silhouettes onto the streets and square below. The colored lights flashed stripes along the buildings and played over the grounds. The temperature dropped as it often did in San Francisco in early evening. The wind picked up a bit, but not enough to discourage the people wandering through the Art in Motion exhibit. People portrayed famous paintings all around the square.

Sergeant Major on the move, boss, Gideon reported from his vantage point on the rooftops.

Watch for Javier. See if you can spot a tail. Mack felt his stomach settle. It had started. A chess match, and he was certain he had all the advantages. He believed in his team. They were good at what they did and this one was personal.

West end, Ethan reported. Two men. They exited a black Town Car just after Sergeant Major entered the square. They split up. One's in a trench coat and dark glasses. The other is in jeans and a casual tee with a skull and crossbones. Tennis shoes. Dark hair, spiked. Didn't make sense for them to be together.

I've spotted them, Gideon said. Skull-boy dropped in behind Sergeant Major. The other is out of my sight. He headed toward the art exhibit.

Where's Javier? Mack asked.

I have him in sight, Top, Gideon reported. He's in the middle of a group of kids talking and laughing. Sergeant Major is approaching the group, about a hundred yards out.

Watch him close. We don't want anyone in the crowd making a move on him. We've got a lot of civilians here, Mack said.

Javier's closing in on the target, Gideon said. How the hell does he get those kids to accept him so fast? He's moving through the crowd with a group of teens. I can barely tell him apart from the kids.

He learns the latest tricks on a skateboard, Kane answered. And he's damn good at them. He loves that shit.

Here we go, Gideon said. Look alert. Second bogey coming toward Sergeant Major. He's in a long trench coat, very James Bond with his cool sunglasses and black leather gloves. He's moving through the crowd fast toward Griffen. Javier, he's coming up on your left.

I can take him, boss, Javier assured, even as he laughed and shoved one of the kids he was walking with.

Your job is to get the earpiece in Sergeant Major's pocket without anyone suspecting you, Mack pointed out. Killing him might be a dead giveaway that we're going to take Griffen back. Just a thought, Javier.

You never let me have any fun, Top, Javier grumbled.

Everyone's in place, boss, Kane said. So far, Sergeant Major hasn't done anything out of the ordinary. Nothing will have raised a red flag yet. He hasn't deviated at all from his routine so I doubt they're doing anything but keeping an eye on him. It's routine for them as well.

Javier's making his move, boss, Gideon reported. He's dropped his skateboard onto the ground and is showing off his tricks. Sergeant Major is still coming up on his left.

Mack focused his long-distance vision and watched as Javier did a series of tricks to the boisterous appreciation of the other teens. They were clapping, and several tried to emulate him. He wove in and out of the group and then around them. As Sergeant Major walked by without so much as slowing, it was impossible to see if they had even brushed up against each other.

Did you make the drop? Mack hissed between his teeth.

No faith, Top, Javier said as he and another boy competed to see who could catch more air.

Another burst of applause drew attention to the teens. Not even a comment on my tricks. I worked on that one for hours. I really think I'm underappreciated. Now would be a good time to talk about making some more dough, bro.

Just don't get killed. What else was there to say? No one could do what Javier did with his particular flair.

Mack honestly couldn't tell Javier from the others. He looked as if he belonged with them and had known them for years. He had a jacket like theirs, a backpack, and the usual ball cap, headphones, and glasses. He looked like any other kid showing off.

Sergeant Major reached up, adjusted his glasses, and scratched his head. At once Mack heard his whisper in his ear.

"You know we're under surveillance right now, don't you," Griffen snapped. "I'm trying to keep you from getting killed, Mack. This is insane. And where the hell are you?" As he spoke he covered his mouth, his eyes darting around as if to ferret out anyone watching them.

Mack sat on the edge of the stairs, obscured by a towering bush. "Just follow instructions, Sergeant Major. You've got two shadows. Maybe more. I don't want you to acknowledge anything, or talk to me. Just do what I say."

The sergeant major kept walking briskly through the crowd, out into the park, and slowed his pace as he walked in front of a framed "picture" of artist Frida Kahlo and her artist husband, Diego Rivera. He studied the two people posing. They stayed absolutely still, a replica of the actual painting. He turned to look at another picture and when he looked back, the two people were once again still, but they were in a slightly different pose. He frowned and walked back and forth, studying the frame from every angle, trying to remember exactly how they'd been posed before.

"They're good," Mack acknowledged. "They changed hand poses. Keep moving. Slow, though. We need a chance to spot anyone tailing you. Take your time."