Street Game (GhostWalkers 8)

How bad? Mack asked.

He's out, boss, I can't examine him. I should have killed that bitch again.

Once was enough. The van's in front of you, Javier. Get rid of the tracking devices and dump the clothes. There's a burn barrel just a few blocks up.

Javier carefully laid Ethan across the backseat in front of Paul, who was already looking for a vein. "I've got him," Paul assured. "Get us out of here."

Pack it in, boys, we've got Sergeant Major. Let's go home, Mack said.

CHAPTER 15

"How is he?" Mack demanded, striding into the room, Sergeant Major on his heels. "Paul. Talk to me. Tell me Ethan's alive."

"He's lost a lot of blood. Jaimie's giving him a transfusion, boss," Gideon said. "You've got to let Paul work."

Mack shot a hard glance at Sergeant Major. "You left out a few pertinent facts in Paul's file. In fact, you left out a few facts altogether. The next time you decide you're going to send two of my men on suicide missions, expect a fucking bullet in your head, because that's what you'll get. Are we clear?"

Silence fell instantly. The tension stretched until the room seemed brittle enough to shatter. Sergeant Major carefully removed his jacket and walked across the room to stare down into Ethan's pale face. Paul didn't even look up. His hands covered in blood, he worked fast to repair the body, using mainly healing energy. Griffen watched his son, a look of awe on his face.

"Look at him, Mack. My son. Worth more than I ever was. The things he can do, the miracle that he is. I would have risked everything for him. You want to put a bullet in my head for that, then you do it."

Mack's breath hissed out in the room, a coiled snake winding tighter. He actually pulled his gun and laid it along his thigh, finger on the trigger. "You son of a bitch. Everyone in this room matters to me. Your son as well as every other man. These people are my family and they're all extraordinary. None of them are expendable, you hear me?"

"You might want to remember who you're talking to," Griffen said.

Mack's eyes blazed fire. He heard the collective gasp go around the room. His team knew him well and they all realized that was the last thing Griffen should have said.

"I don't give a shit about my career, not when you're so willing to sell us all down the river, so if you believe for a minute that threatening me will save you, think again."

Babe. Jaimie's voice was soothing. Loving. Calm down.

He looked up to see her stretched out beside Ethan, tubes running between them, her skin pale, Ethan's so white the dark scruff on his face was nearly obscene, and it made him even angrier.

"Mack." Kane moved up beside him, his fingers settling lightly around Mack's wrist. "Let's all calm down. We just pulled his butt out of the fire. You don't need to kill him."

"I'd prefer that you didn't, if I get a vote," Paul agreed, not looking up from Ethan's bloody body.

Mack jerked his arm away from Kane, but holstered his weapon and stalked into the kitchen. He couldn't look at Jaimie again. Ethan had taken a bad hit. He'd been so certain he could get his men out clean. Maybe he was angrier at himself than at Sergeant Major. "Where's Javier?"

Marc handed him a cup of coffee. "Where do you think? He prefers computers to people. He's tracking our wannabe Bond."

"They have the pictures of Griffen's shadows? All three of them? I want that woman's ID," Mack snapped.

Griffen came up behind him. Marc immediately left the area and busied himself watching the bay from the windows.

"I'm sorry, Mack," Griffen said quietly. "I didn't know how to handle it. I realized Whitney was out of his mind when I went to tour one his compounds. I was with Senator Romney and Brigadier General Tommy Chilton and Colonel Wilford. They didn't share my views of the facility at all, at least not Romney and Chilton; Colonel Wilford was quiet, didn't say much at all. As we walked through that hellhole, I felt like I was in an alternate reality. Paul had already filled out the papers and was being processed into the program. I knew his talent was rare and that if Whitney realized what he could do, he'd never leave that compound alive. Romney and Chilton wield a great deal of power. Chilton has the president's ear. I kept my mouth shut and got out of there alive, although I think Whitney was suspicious."

"You should have come to me."

"The day after I visited the compound, I was hit by a car right outside of my hotel. It was no accident. I was out jogging and the car was waiting for me. I think that must have been when they planted the tracking devices in my hip and side." He rubbed the spots as if they ached. "I woke up in Whitney's hospital. Oh, he was very gracious. Romney and the general were solicitous. The colonel was very quiet and upset, but I knew I'd been warned."

"You should have come to me then," Mack repeated and poured a cup of coffee and handed it to Sergeant Major.

"You sound like a broken record. I answer to the colonel. He answers to the brigadier general. He goes to the president. Who else can I go to, Mack?"

"Me. You come to me."

"And what are you going to do?"

Mack's smile was mean. "I'm going to kill the sons of bitches."

"You don't know for certain it's them. I don't know," Griffen objected. "Don't you think I thought of that? They have never once communicated with me. I have no proof. Just the damn bugs. I had to utilize the encryption program to communicate with Paul, and anything secure I'm working on can't be done in my office."

"Who set up Kane and Brian? Was it Whitney?"

"The orders for the mission came directly from Colonel Wilford, as most of the missions do, but his orders come from above. The only thing different was he requested them by name. I had my suspicions the moment he requested them. I had turned over all the evidence the men had gathered against Whitney against my better judgment." He looked directly at Mack for the first time and there was shame in his eyes. "Did they make copies?"

"If they did, they didn't inform me."

"I tried warning you, Mack. I said things to make you as uneasy as possible."

"I must have picked up on it without knowing it, but you should have just told me. You could have used Paul's e-mail."

"I couldn't be certain that everyone on your team was clean, not with Paul's life at stake."

"They threatened him?"

"When I woke up in the hospital, Whitney was there with Romney and Chilton and they were all talking, consoling me, telling me I was going to be all right. And they said how easily these things happen and thank God it hadn't been Paul, because no one wants to outlive their child. I took it as a warning."

"Damn it, Sergeant Major, you should have come to me. You trusted me with your son. You should have trusted me to get you out of it."

"You're a loose cannon sometimes, Mack," Griffen said. "No one, not even me, can predict how you'll act in any given situation. You have a reputation for charging hell with a bucket of water."

Mack shook his head and went back over to Ethan, Griffen following. "Maybe, but I'd put the fire out. I always have a plan."

"They'll know your team has me," Griffen pointed out. "That makes all of you sitting ducks. You'll get orders to go to the Congo or worse."

"Not if they're dead. We just need the proof of who the man is pulling the strings. We get in and get out." Mack walked around the bed, inspecting the damage done to Ethan. He put his hand on Ethan's shoulder, his touch gentle, at odds with his commanding tone. "Give me the word, kid," he ordered Paul. "I'm getting a little worried and we all know that makes me cranky."

Paul flexed his fingers and sagged back onto the bed, slumping, his head down. There was a film of sweat on his forehead and his eyes were sunken in. He looked pale. "Get me some water, please."

Marc handed him a glass and the team gathered around him, waiting while he downed the water. "Maybe you should lie down," Marc suggested, one hand on Paul's shoulder to steady him.

Paul shook his head and looked up at his father. "She was trying to kill you. Ethan took that knife for you."

"I know he did,"

Griffen replied. "Were you able to repair the damage?"

"She went for the liver. It was difficult getting the bleeding stopped." He rubbed his hand over his face, trying to ease the terrible weariness. "He wouldn't have made it if we'd taken him to a regular hospital. They wouldn't have had enough time." His bloodshot eyes met Mack's gaze. "He'll need a lot of rest, boss."

Mack nodded and forced himself to look at Jaimie. Brave Jaimie. His Jaimie. She'd stayed right there while Paul used psychic energy to heal the aftermath of violence--a particularly violent and brutal attack. She hadn't flinched, or shrunk away from giving blood. Even though she knew the energy was going to tear her apart. He bent to brush a kiss over her temple. "Thanks, Jaimie. Thanks for taking care of him. I know what it cost you."

Paul glanced at her over his shoulder. "I'll help you as soon as I can."

"It's just a bad headache," Jaimie assured. "I've had many. And somehow I think you're in worse shape than I am. Did Javier get the information we need? I can . . ." She started to sit up and Mack put a restraining hand on her shoulder at the same time Paul did.

"Rest," Mack ordered. "Javier will get it."

"Boss," Lucas said, "I hate to bring this up now, but we've still got Armando Shepherd and Ramon Estes sniffing around Madigan's warehouse. The signs are pretty clear they're looking to make their move soon."

Sergeant Major nodded. "I brought the latest intel on Doomsday. They're pushing hard for the weapons deal because they're gearing up for something big. The chatter's been increasing steadily."

"Where?" Mack asked.