Christine Feehan - Street Game

“Any phone calls?”

“One, boss, from Senator Romney. But he’s definitely waiting for someone. He’s checked his watch at least three times. The directional mike is working perfectly. If he does have a visitor, we’ll be able to hear every word.”

“I want it recorded,” Mack said. “We need everything we can get on him. And no evidence left behind. Not so much as a scrape on a tree. When we take him down, no matter how natural his death appears, there will be an investigation.”

“He the one after Kane and Brian?” Javier asked, bringing his travel mug to his mouth. The hot coffee warmed his insides. There was malice in his voice.

“Jefferson has a hard-on for both of them,” Mack said. “Sergeant Major turned his report over to General Chilton and I’m guessing Chilton turned it over to Jefferson. Either way, all the evidence they gathered is now destroyed. And Jefferson sent those killers after Jaimie.”

Gideon and Javier exchanged a long, knowing look.

“We know he’s working at Langley, we’ve watched him come and go,” Javier said. “I could have taken out the bastard a hundred times already.”

Mack shook his head. “It has to be a natural death or an accident no one can dispute. If I can get close enough to him, I can kill him and everyone will think he’s had a heart attack.”

Again Gideon and Javier exchanged a long look. Mack almost never mentioned his psychic abilities. His was a rare talent. Mack always played things close to his chest and when he’d filled out the forms, he had never revealed his ability to manipulate electrical energy. They’d heard the rumor that one of the GhostWalkers’ wives from Team Two could do the same, but they’d never met her and the rumor wasn’t confirmed. Mack’s talent made him invaluable to the team and the fact that no one, not even Whitney, knew he had the ability, made him the perfect assassin. Getting up close to Jefferson was another matter. He’d proved to be very cautious. Years with the agency and working with Whitney had made him wary of everyone. He changed his route at a moment’s notice. Few knew his schedule ahead of time. It was impossible to know which car he would be using. When a car was summoned, it was gone over meticulously for bombs. He had to be taken in his home. Mack watched Jefferson through the bulletproof glass of his study. “He’s waiting for a woman.”

Gideon turned his head back toward the house, narrowing his eyes. Jefferson used a remote to light a fire in his fireplace. He poured two drinks from a Waterford decanter on the table beside the sofa. He pointed the remote again and music flooded the room.

“Very high-class seduction scene,” Javier said. “Where’s the caviar?”

“He’s setting the scene, all right,” Mack said, “but I don’t believe he’s in love with this woman. Look at him. He’s setting a seduction scene, but he’s after something else besides sex.”

“He’s got something in his hand,” Gideon said. “Can you make it out, Mack?”

Mack watched the man put the object in a small, decorative box. Jefferson moved the box twice and then shook his head and took it back out again. He crossed to the floor-to-ceiling bookcase, removed a book, opened it, and thrust the small object into the hollowed-out pages.

“It’s got to be a recorder,” Gideon said.

“He’s an arrogant son of a bitch,” Javier observed. “No guards. He doesn’t believe anyone would dare retaliate against him. He has to know Sergeant Major’s gone off the grid.”

Mack’s smile held no humor. “Men like Jefferson come to believe they’re above the law. He makes his own laws.” He looked at Javier. “There has to be a code of honor. We make the same kinds of decisions he makes. We have to make absolutely certain we’re doing it for the right reasons. This can’t be about power or personal gain, or we’re just like him.”

“I get what you’re saying, Top,” Javier said.

“Or the rush, Javier,” Mack counseled.

“It’s never been about the rush, Mack,” Javier said. “It’s about running from myself.”

Their eyes met-held complete understanding.

“Car’s coming up the drive,” Gideon reported.

The Escalade had tinted windows. It slid noiselessly up the drive and a woman got out. She was tall and blond, her hair up in a sophisticated twist that made her look especially elegant. She wore a pencil-thin skirt and a silk blouse with matching jacket that should have made her look all business, but she managed to look sexy instead. Diamonds clung to her ears and a single teardrop necklace glittered at her throat. No one move. No communication. Mack sent the warning, careful to keep his energy low, to keep it from spilling out into the open where the woman might have a chance to feel it. Get her picture and send it to Jaimie for positive ID. The woman stepped away from the car and looked carefully around, her gaze quartering the area, and then turned her attention to the house. She moved with unhurried, fluid steps up the walkway to the door. Jefferson greeted her before she could ring the doorbell. He waved her inside and only then did Mack let out his breath.

“She looks familiar,” Gideon said. “Like I’ve seen her before, but I’ve never really met a female GhostWalker other than Jaimie.”

“And Rhianna,” Javier supplied. He glanced down at his phone. “Jaimie’s on it, boss.”

“Shit,” Mack said. “That’s Senator Ed Freeman’s wife, Violet. I remember seeing her picture in the news right after her husband was shot. I forget the story. How the hell did a GhostWalker hook up with a senator?”

“And what the hell is she doing here?” Javier asked.

“Maybe we’ll get lucky and she’ll assassinate him for us,” Gideon said. Mack directed their attention to the couple in the house. Violet leaned in to brush a barely there kiss along Jefferson’s cheek. “If Jefferson thought he was going to seduce, he’s wrong. She’s deliberately tempting him, but that kiss was a definite signal to back off.”

“Maybe she’s wired too,” Javier ventured. “It would be pretty funny if they were bugging each other.”

“I don’t doubt for a minute she’s wired,” Mack said. “She’s exuding confidence and if Jefferson has a brain in his head, he’ll be very, very careful.”

“Kind of like entertaining a cobra in your home,” Javier said and smirked. He knew he looked like the boy next door. “Glad she’s one of us.”

“Data coming in,” Mack said, frowning down at the small phone in his hand.

“Never make the mistake of thinking Violet Smythe-Freeman is one of us. She sold out the women in Whitney’s compound. Kane warned Jaimie about her. She was raised with those women, one of the orphans Whitney acquired, and they all believed in her.”

“She turned on them?” Gideon asked as if disbelieving. “That would be like one of us turning on the others. We were raised together, a family, like those women. That’s just…” He cast around searching for the right words to express his disgust.

“The word’s gone out to all the GhostWalker teams that she’s a traitor,” Mack read on. “She was at the compound to make an alliance with Whitney when everything went to hell. She was going to help suppress evidence on the breeding program if he backed her husband’s bid for the vice presidency. She and her husband are the ones who sent Team Two to the Congo and tipped off the rebels where they were going to be.”

There was a small silence while they absorbed the treachery of the woman’s actions. There were very few GhostWalkers and all of them knew just how difficult one another’s lives were. Violet had been raised with Whitney’s youngest, earliest victims, yet she appeared not to have any loyalty to them at all.