Toxic Game (GhostWalkers 15) - Page 71

Or triplets. Let’s not forget that’s a very viable possibility, he supplied helpfully.

Joe nearly spit his coffee out, drawing Shylah’s instant attention. She glared at him. Stop listening to private conversations.

I would, but the two of you broadcast fairly loudly.

“Trap, you’re a fucking genius for God’s sake,” Wyatt snapped, raking his fingers through his hair in agitation. “Of course, you know it’s not only possible but probable. And birth control isn’t working for us, so Pepper and I might end up holding the world record for the most children.”

“There is an alternative,” Malichai said helpfully. “Give up sex.”

The laughter was like a sound wave, building in force around the room. Wyatt flung a pillow from one of the chairs at him. “That’s not happening.”

“One of Cayenne’s trip wires just sent out an alarm,” Trap announced suddenly. “Several miles from here. But it’s our three scientists. The camera picked them up.” He lifted his watch to show the others.

The entire group stood, all humor gone. Joe gave the orders. “Zeke, you, Bellisia, Gino stay behind. We’re not going to miss, but just in case, you’re our last defense.”

Ezekiel nodded and glanced at his brothers but didn’t say anything. Shylah could see that something, some communication passed between them, but there was nothing to indicate stress or worry in the expressions on their faces.

She stayed close to Draden, not about to be left behind. As far as she was concerned, this was her operation, her responsibility, and she was going to see it through to the end. It took only minutes, and very few of them, for the team to be on the move. To her shock, they didn’t go by boat or vehicle, they went into the swamp itself on foot.

Shylah understood why the men Whitney had enhanced were called GhostWalkers. Once in the swamp, they disappeared. It was impossible to detect their presence. The insects continued with their constant cacophony of noise. Cicadas were loud, and every type of wildlife seemed to try to rival the sound. Birds shrieked. Frogs croaked. Coyotes howled. Foxes barked. The swamp was alive with raccoons and muskrats and possums. She hadn’t expected to hear so much rustling or the calls back and forth from the multitude of birds. She didn’t understand how the men could move so quickly through the swamp without disturbing its natural rhythm. It was as though, when they spread out, they each became part of nature and were accepted there.

She used the trees, following Draden, trying to keep from disturbing the wildlife so as not to give them all away. She was the best tracker in the group, but she didn’t need to be here. These men knew exactly where their quarry was, and they were converging from all directions to surround them.

Shylah’s heart pounded in fear. She knew the Williams brothers and particularly Agus Orucov were dangerous when cornered, mostly because they were afraid. She didn’t want them to infect themselves or anyone else with the virus. She hoped to take them out cleanly, but she knew better. She knew by now they were terrified of the consequences of their actions and they’d be feeling as if they had nothing to lose. Nowhere to go. If they had already heard of the death of Ethan Montgomery—and it had been reported widely—they would know there was no paycheck at the end of the day other than killing the GhostWalkers and possibly acquiring her, which they would know would be nearly impossible.

The entire world was looking for them, law enforcement in every country. There would be no escape, especially when the money ran out. They would be considered pariahs by any friend or family member. They had to know that by now, they were intelligent men. She knew they would be feeling alone, cut off and desperate. Desperate men were capable of anything. She hoped the GhostWalkers would get clean shots at them and take them out fast, but the dread building inside her told her something else—and she’d always followed her instincts.

She concentrated on running along the thicker, twisted branches and when she couldn’t, she dropped down to earth, trying not to break stride, following almost exactly in Draden’s footsteps. He was fast, his longer strides taking him some distance from her as they ran, but she managed to keep him in sight, which was no small feat. As she ran, mice and reptiles, snakes and lizards slithered and scuttled out of her way. Rabbits hopped to the side and she startled a skunk, although she was more shocked than it was. Before it could lift its tail, she’d leapt over it and was gone.

Keep up. This is treacherous ground. You can fall through. Place your feet exactly where I do.

She didn’t need the warning. She realized with every step she took that they were on dangerous, thin ground. Each step left a wet depression behind. The animals had changed as well. Now there were signs of alligators and snapping turtles. She didn’t want to meet any of them.

Great white egrets flapped their impressive wings as the GhostWalkers moved through the marsh, but the flock continued feeding on the fish and shrimp they fished for. Waterfowl were everywhere, but the silent men were so calm, giving off so little energy, none of the shore birds rose to give their presence away.

Shylah had to admit, she was enjoying the run through the very interesting and diverse swamp. They raced through a bayou and skirted an island of sawgrass. She felt the others slowing, spreading out more.

Who is your best shooter? The best team, spotter and sniper? She directed the inquiry to Joe and Draden.

Either Malichai and Mordichai or Rubin and Diego. I might give the edge to Rubin, Joe said. What are you thinking?

When we get close, tell Rubin and Diego to set up on Agus Orucov. Have Malichai and Mordichai take the other two just to be safe.

She knew it was presumption to tell the leader of the GhostWalkers what to do, but it was her operation. She’d tracked the three scientists from the start and she was going to do her job.

Will do, Joe agreed.

Then suddenly, Draden ceased moving so abruptly he appeared to have been made of stone. She skidded to a halt beside him. The three virologists were just ahead, hastily dumping their backpacks and trying to find cover. Something had tipped them off to the fact that they weren’t alone. An alligator slid into the water just to the right of them, startled by the motion of the men as they came to a collective halt.

Shylah knew Whitney’s three men couldn’t see them, but they obviously knew they were there. Orucov was the most aggressive, just as she was certain he would be.

“You take one step closer and I throw this into the air and release it,” Orucov snarled. “I mean it. Back off.” He held the glass capsule up in the air.

It isn’t passed through the air. Saliva and blood, but not air, Draden reminded.

We can’t take a chance that they didn’t mutate it, Trap advised.

How long can it live in the air? Joe asked.

The virus in Texas at the research center was still alive when they brought in animals after three years, Trap reminded. And that was after they eradicated every animal infected and thoroughly washed the lab down with bleach and other proven cleaning agents, using an eleven-day process. If we don’t need to take chances, let’s not go there.

Shylah wasn’t officially part of the team, but these men were hers to take out. Let me see what I can do.

There was a moment of silence. She’s good at this, Draden reminded. She knows them better than anyone.

You’re up, Joe made the decision. But don’t get close and don’t take chances.

Shylah didn’t hesitate. The longer the three scientists had to panic, the worse their reaction would be. They weren’t trained soldiers. They were men who did their work in a laboratory, and being on the run was taking a toll on them. Disheveled and clearly exhausted, with their clothes a mess and beards in various states of disrepair, the three appeared sleep deprived, haggard and paranoid. She couldn’t blame them.

She emerged from the shadows of the trees to confront them. Hands on hips to show she wasn’t going to suddenly whip out a weapon and kill them, she shook her head. “I can’t believe the three of you created

such a mess. Whitney is beyond pissed.”

Tyler Williams closed his eyes and let out a single croak of a sound.

“Don’t be stupid and make this any worse than it already is. You’ve done what he wanted, so that’s something. He understands working for the highest bidder, because he understands money, but you know you should have told him someone else was trying to buy your viruses. He would have doubled the money. Tripled it. Now, because of your very poor decisions, you don’t have much in the way of choices.”

“There are no choices,” Cameron hissed.

Tyler made another sound, this one suspiciously like a child’s wail.

“Of course, there are choices. You’re all intelligent men. You know there are choices. Agus can throw the vial and he’ll be shot dead. That’s a choice. My guess is, all three of you will go down in a hail of bullets.”

“That’s better than being dragged through a public trial,” Orucov said. “My family would be humiliated. They’d never be able to raise their heads in public again.”

“And you think if you die here today, that still isn’t going to happen? Don’t be ridiculous. Whitney sent you a one-time offer.” She was very aware of Draden going very still in her mind.

“Anything Whitney says is pure bullshit,” Orucov snapped.

Tags: Christine Feehan GhostWalkers Paranormal
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