Christine Feehan - Samurai Game

“Call nine-one-one,” one of her men ordered her.

They rolled the major over. His eyes were wide-open, sightless, bulging. His mouth was open as well, giving her the impression of a fish gasping its last breath. He was definitely dying if he wasn’t already dead. Whitney could not possibly blame her for this. She pushed her way through the small crowd to Patterson’s side and knelt over him as her men worked on him. Her fingers found the inside pocket. She nearly screamed aloud. The money was gone. Gone. Right in front of her. In front of the team. It was impossible.

She took a careful look around at the crowd. She’d scoped out this very café numerous times and most of the onlookers were the same people who came in after work for coffee and a chat with coworkers or to relax before they went home. She recognized the little Asian girl who had been reading her book. She and the three Asian men who sat at a table chatting together, along with the tall gentlemen with the briefcase, worked at Samurai Telecommunications across the street. The two women laughing together were secretaries at the law offices of Tweed and Tweed.

She could practically name everyone in the room and where they worked. She’d done backgrounds on everyone including the workers here. What was she going to say to Whitney? Thank God she had been smart enough to place a tracking device in the third packet of money. She knew Patterson, knew his greed. He always managed to sound very concerned for the soldiers, but in the end he’d always been more concerned for his bank account. She read him like a book and she’d known exactly when his breaking point would be.

She looked down at the major. Two of the team members worked on him, trying to bring him back, but he was gone that fast. Disgusted, she stood up and dusted off her hands, walking with great dignity back to her table. The small tracker was there in her purse. She reached inside and turned it on. The green light blinked rapidly, telling her she was very, very close to the source.

Suspicious, she looked around her. Two café employees stood close and one of the two secretaries. An Asian man was on the other side of her. Clearly it could be on any of the four. She moved her hand slightly. The tracker went wild, glowing bright, indicating she was directly over the bug. No one was that close to her. Frowning she looked at the floor. Nothing.

Her heart jumped and then began to pound. She put her hand on the pocket of her jacket. The tracker was in her pocket. She sank into a chair, nowhere to go, terrified of what Whitney would do now that she’d failed him again.

At long last the game was on. Azami “Thorn” Yoshiie allowed herself one small smile as she stepped out of the single-engine plane she’d piloted, landing at the tiny airport of Superior. She’d flown over the Lolo National Forest, taking her time, quartering the acreage where she knew the homes of GhostWalker Teams One and Two were located.

Jack and Ken Norton, two members of Team Two, owned twenty-four hundred acres surrounded by national forest and they had leased it to the two GhostWalker teams, forming a nearly impenetrable fortress. From the air, even the houses were nearly impossible to spot. The soldiers had taken great care to incorporate their surroundings, using mountains and trees to hide their existence from the outside world.

Her two most trusted men accompanied her, flanking either side of her, but a foot away, giving all three plenty of room to maneuver should they have need to do so. Daiki and Eiji Yoshiie were both broad-shouldered men, although Daiki stood a head taller than Eiji and a good foot taller than Thorn. Both were impressive warriors, missing little when it came to details. She needed her best for this job, men who were calm, quick-thinking on their feet, and without fear. They were walking into the lion’s den and worse-sticking their heads right into its mouth. They were also her adopted brothers, and she trusted them as she did no others.

“Before we go any further,” she said softly, “I need to ask one more time if you’re both fully committed to this mission. This will be the most dangerous operation we’ve done to date. Nothing else compares with this. Every man, woman, and child in this compound is enhanced as well as psychic. We don’t know what gifts they have and we’ll be under constant surveillance as well as intense scrutiny.”

Daiki frowned at her. “Why is there doubt in your mind, Azami?”

“You are at the most risk, Daiki, because of the role you must always play. Our company has grown far beyond what we imagined and there is more than enough money for both of you to bow out now, before it’s too late. As head of the company, you’re a target anyway, but when you walk into the lion’s den with me, you and Eiji will have less of a chance against enhanced, experienced soldiers. You’ve read their files. You know what we face. These men are some of the most dangerous men on the face of the earth today. Even factions of their own government fear them. They will strike against you first, my brother.”

“We vowed to help you, Azami,” Eiji pointed out.

“And I released you from that vow long ago,” she reminded. “I am enhanced, as they are. I have psychic gifts, as they do. This isn’t the same as the other jobs we’ve worked on.”

Daiki shrugged. “These people could be innocents and we don’t want to make any mistakes. We need to know who our enemies are.” He looked his sister in the eye. “We made this vow to our father, not to you. You cannot release us. You never asked this task of us.”

“We do not wish to be released, Azami,” Eiji added. “It is important that you know that. I am prepared to die. Death means nothing to me. If fate wishes it so, then so be it, but I will work to stop this evil. Like Daiki and our father, I saw what that man did to an innocent child.”

“We are sworn to stamp out evil,” Daiki continued. “Our father’s legacy lives in all of us. He took us in, gave us life when we would have lived as slaves in the sex trade. He gave us his name and his heritage. He taught us the way of the samurai. We have thrived in business following his way. We cannot step off the path when it becomes dangerous. We have prepared for this day.”

Thorn took a deep breath, pride for her brothers slipping into her heart. She took another deep breath, drawing in the crisp air coming off the surrounding mountains. She saw the freedom and beauty of nature and always found she felt completely free when she was away from the cities and out in the open. She’d learned calm, to be centered, to know her way and have confidence in herself, but Whitney was a personal demon she’d never been able to fully exorcise in the way that she should. Confronting his evil was necessary, but still, at night-when she was alone-the thought of him, those terrible memories of her years with him, still gave her nightmares.

“Azami?” Daiki inquired softly.

She could hear the genuine concern in his voice, and as always, when one of her brothers showed her unexpected affection, she was touched. She sent him a small, quick smile of reassurance, keeping her features serene. She could tell Eiji and Daiki were both worried about her. They’d been with her since the day they had been with their father and had seen the occupants of a rented car dump her out on the street in one of the worst parts of Kinshicho in eastern Tokyo. Whitney had disposed of her in a place known for pimps, sex trafficking, and pedophiles, just as her brothers’ parents had abandoned them. She had been eight years old and her body had been covered in scars already. She’d weighed forty-seven pounds, and the signs of torture, abuse, and multiple operations were significant-signs that she had been systematically experimented on by a madman.