GW10 Samurai Game

by Christine Feehan

  Azami knew Whitney inside and out. She’d made it her mission in life to study everything about him. His genius was undisputed, but there was no doubt in her mind that over the years, too many privileges and his very genius had eaten away at his sanity. Somewhere along the line he’d lost all perspective and believed himself to be omnipotent. Anyone not agreeing with him or siding with him was his enemy. Ranier would be despised for not adhering to Whitney’s code of conduct—complete servitude to him and his ideology.

  Sam was not a pawn or a sacrifice; he was Whitney’s hand of justice. Sam would be murdered to punish Ranier. That would make perfect sense to Whitney. He would feel as if Ranier deserved the pain and suffering of losing a child. Sam meant nothing to Whitney. He’d already dismissed him.

  Azami took a deep breath and let it out slowly between her teeth, turning her attention back to the war room and Sam. Before she could stop herself, her hand went to the screen, fingers drifting over his face. Her pulse hammered hard in her temples, and her throat threatened to close. Sam, her beloved Sam was nothing more than garbage to Whitney, just as she had been. He didn’t see Sam’s brilliance—or maybe he did and he feared it. Whitney wouldn’t want anyone with an IQ to rival his enormous ego.

  For the very first time, it occurred to her that if Whitney could devalue a man like Sam, he made a huge mistake by getting rid of her. Whitney wasn’t quite as smart as he thought he was. One didn’t throw away valuable pieces of experiments to get back at other people. The other mistake he’d clearly made was in not keeping an eye on what happened to her. He had no idea that little useless Thorn was in fact the brilliant Azami Yoshiie and that she was coming after him.

  She kept her hand over Sam’s face on the screen as the general replied gruffly, shoving his emotion away with a quick, impatient shrug as he gripped Sam’s shoulder.

  “If Ryland wants you on that team, it’s his decision.”

  “Transport?” Ryland asked.

  “It’s all in there,” General Ranier said, his tone dripping with disgust. “But I wouldn’t trust any of it. Not a single person involved in this. And Ryland, don’t trust your transport out if things go to hell. Not even your escape route.”

  “I understand, sir.”

  Azami closed her eyes briefly. It was easy enough for the general to say “don’t trust your escape route,” but the team needed not only a pickup point but an alternate in case things did go to hell. What would they do if neither route was open to them? Her mind began to race with possibilities. She might not be able to go to the Congo with them—it would be ridiculous to go into battle with a team already set and knowing one another’s every move—but that didn’t mean there weren’t dozens of other ways she could give aid. And she had the equipment and technology to do it.

  “Be ready to leave at oh-five-hundred. We’ll have an unmarked Learjet standing by to take you. Did you read the directive, Ryland?” General Ranier asked. “They’re questioning why a captain is going into the field with his team on a mission like this. They’d like you to sit this one out.”

  “You know the reason, sir. Not all the members of my team are anchors. We’re not like other covert forces and you know that. Some of my men wouldn’t survive without an anchor. Lily’s working with those that aren’t, but the psychic overload is still too much.” His eyes met the general’s. “We count on you to keep them off of us, sir, and allow us to operate in the way that we can. We can’t live with other people, and our unit is tight-knit because it has to be. I think the good we do outweighs any negative. We have never failed in a mission.”

  “I’ll keep them off of you,” the general replied, a bulldog expression settling on his face. “And I’ll find out who’s behind these orders.”

  “I think we both know who’s behind the order,” Ryland said.

  The general shrugged. “I need to find who his puppet is and bring him down.”

  Azami smiled with satisfaction. At last. Someone thought the way she did. Cut Whitney off from his power source. He was bound to grow desperate and make a mistake. His ego was far too large to go long without wanting to lead the military and country in the direction he believed it should go.

  Sam, it’s someone in his office who has been casting suspicion on the general. Someone there he trusts is supplying Whitney with information on all of you. Whitney must have gotten the second-generation Zenith study from the general’s office, not from Lily’s computer. That’s why nothing has shown up in her computer. It’s clean.

  Azami couldn’t allow Sam to continue to have his foster father under suspicion. They had to find the traitor and cut him off from Whitney. She could at least take care of that problem.

  Sam cleared his throat. “Whitney has the study Lily did on second-generation Zenith. We’ve gone over her computer with experts and it’s clean. The only other person who had that information was you. We’ve known for some time that there’s been someone feeding Whitney information, and we suspected that information was coming from your office. He knew too much about our orders, things that could only come from a source close to you.”

  Ranier’s head snapped up. Azami sucked in her breath. He knew they had suspected him. One didn’t get to his position without being sharp. His gray eyebrows drew together and for the first time, she thought he looked terribly impressive. He glared at his son, and then at Ryland.

  “You suspected I was in bed with that despicable lunatic? After what he did to my son? To all of you? To soldiers? Women? You thought I would send you out into combat to be slaughtered?”

  “No, sir,” Sam said. The ring of truth was in his voice. “I thought you would be loyal to your staff. You trust them. Like Colonel Higgens, you would have a difficult time suspecting one of them of betraying you.”

  Ranier winced at the mention of Colonel Higgens, a man who had worked against the GhostWalker program by trying to have them murdered. “You should have told me.”

  “Would you have believed us, sir?” Sam asked.

  “That’s beside the point. At least I would have been more careful. I’ve had the same aide and secretary for years. Neither would betray their country or me. Perhaps my computer is compromised. Although … Art Patterson worked a couple of offices down. He wasn’t privy to that study but he may have managed to get into the computer . . .”

  “Lily’s research was never sent via computer for that reason,” Ryland reminded.

  Azami went over what she knew of the two suspects. Lt. Col. Andrew Chapman was a bachelor and a strict military man. He’d served with General Ranier in more than one war and in fact, had saved his life on one occasion. They were reputed to be close friends as well as working together.

  Melanie Freesha was a civilian with a high security clearance who had, at one time, actually worked in the White House before she’d gone to work for Ranier several years earlier. She too had an impeccable reputation. Azami understood loyalty, almost more than any other character trait. She was loyal to her father, Daiki, and Eiji and she’d defend them to the death. Now, Sam was included in that small circle of people she trusted enough to give her loyalty to.

  “Andy and Melanie have been with me for years. Andy and I came up through the ranks together. He’s a good soldier. I wouldn’t be standing here if it wasn’t for him. More than once, we fought our way out of some dicey situations. He’s a steady, reliable man with a good mind and extremely loyal to his country. He’s a career man and doesn’t have a dishonest bone in his body. He would no more turn traitor than take a gun out and shoot the president.”

  The general’s brows managed to come together even tighter, his frown fierce. Thunder could have boomed through the room and Azami wouldn’t have been surprised. The general believed in what he was telling them. “Melanie Freesha has worked for years in numerous high-security-clearance jobs, and she’s performed each with absolute propriety. She may not be military, but she understands it and she knows the value of silence. There has never been so much as a whisper or rumo
r connected to her. Did you think I didn’t consider that there was a leak? I sweep my office twice a day. I don’t trust the computer. The GhostWalkers are classified. The entire program is kept secret. No one wants to know it exists. They leave us alone and don’t ask questions, so there’s really no reason to talk about it—and I don’t and neither does my aide or my secretary.”

  The general was very persuasive, but Azami wasn’t buying it. He didn’t want to believe that the people he’d worked with for years would betray him. Both were patriotic, but Whitney believed himself a patriot. His descent into madness was not without brilliance, and those loyal to him would only see the brilliance, the drive to protect his country. Certainly many people believed in a strong military nation, and the continual attempts at diplomacy in the face of terrorists or acts of aggression from some countries might be enough to persuade them that Whitney had the answers.

  She didn’t really understand how the general could pass orders on to his team when he knew they would be walking into an ambush. She wished she was in the room with him. She was much better at getting a feel for someone when she was face-to-face with them. Perhaps it had something to do with their energy, she didn’t really know, but it was rare for her to be deceived by someone. It just didn’t make sense . . .

  He knows what we’re capable of. Sam’s voice moved in her mind with complete confidence. She had forgotten she’d reached out to him and was still in his mind. They were too connected now, making it impossible to know where one started and the other left off.

  That was true, now that she really studied the general’s face. He didn’t like having to be the delivery man, but he’d flown all the way out to their compound to ensure no one else would overhear the conversation and he had made it more than clear what his team would be facing. Still, aside from not wanting his foster son to be among those going, he had never once acted as if they wouldn’t come home alive. If anything, she could see the smoldering anger underneath. He meant what he said when he ordered them to carry out the orders to the letter. He planned on turning the tables on Whitney. His GhostWalkers were going to destroy the rebel army, take out the two men wreaking havoc and committing genocide in the region, get the diamond Whitney wanted, and all come home safe. He believed his men not only could but would do just that.

  Breathe, Azami. You’re holding your breath. This is what we do.

  I know. I’ve seen you in action, but I won’t be there with you this time. She was a little shocked at just how upsetting that was. She believed in Sam, but he would be going into a firestorm. If Whitney actually had enough clout to shut down their primary and secondary extractions, they would really be in trouble. The idea was to get in and get out without anyone ever knowing they were there.

  “Sir,” Ryland said, clearing his throat. “It would be best if you didn’t act in any way as if you suspect someone is relaying information to anyone on your staff.”

  The general drew himself up, an impressive man who had earned the right to be called a four-star general. He squared his shoulders and looked down his nose at Ryland. “I assure you, Captain, I’m quite capable of taking care of myself. You just bring my team home safely. Every damn soldier comes home alive, you understand me?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Sam, with me.” The general indicated with a jerk of his chin.

  Sam followed his foster father from the war room, as all the men rose and saluted. The general walked with his measured steps, his bearing absolutely erect, his posture perfect. He waited until they were a good distance away from the others before he turned to face his foster son. Sam could see the lines of age settling into his face, the gray of his hair, the signs that the man, in spite of his excellent physical condition and diet, was growing old and maybe a little tired of the weight of responsibility he’d assumed for so many years.

  He put his hand on Sam’s shoulder, indicating they were speaking as father and son. “How are you really, Sam? I don’t like that you’ve been targeted once and now you’re being sent into the Congo to get ambushed. Worse, I’m being used to send my own boy into a firefight. I want a medical report from your doctor giving you full clearance or I can’t sign off on this, regardless of how proud I am that you’re choosing to go.”

  “I’m really fine, sir. I know I’ll get full medical clearance. I hope you understand why I have to do this. I could never look any of the others in the eye if I didn’t. If someone is out to get me, I’d rather have my chance at them.”

  “They’re using a ragtag army of ruthless, brutal rebels who care nothing for anyone. Not women, children, their country, or anything else. They love to torture and kill. And if they get their hands on you . . .” The general trailed off to shake his head. “You saw what they did to Ken Norton. That wouldn’t be anything if they got their hands on you.”

  “Then I’ll be certain not to let that happen,” Sam assured.

  General Ranier sighed and rubbed his jaw. “Sam, I don’t play favorites, I never have, not even with you. This is different. Whitney’s behind these orders and he’s targeted you specifically for whatever purpose.”

  Ranier had never really discussed Peter Whitney with him before, and Sam was astounded. The general really had to be worried to talk so openly when he was used to playing things close to his chest. He never talked at home about his work, not even with his wife.

  “I’m aware of that, sir. He won’t succeed.”

  “This girl you think you’ve fallen in love with . . .”

  “I have fallen in love with her.” Sam looked him directly in the eye. “I’m no kid, long past the age of looking for a woman because I’m joining the service and want someone waiting for me. You know I don’t work that way. She’s the one. We just fit. We make sense. And she makes me happy, just having her around. This is it for me.”

  “And you’re certain there is no tie between her and Whitney? Do you really think it’s a coincidence that she shows up and you get attacked by Iranian soldiers, mercenaries, and known members of the Mexican cartel?”

  “She saved my life and helped me kill most of them.”

  The general stood there for several moments in silence. “Do you have any idea who she is? Azami Yoshiie is part owner of one of the biggest companies in the world. Countries, governments would kill for their satellites. She’s amassed a fortune, and it’s said that every person working for her is loyal and can’t be bribed. Believe me, there isn’t a government that hasn’t tried to get their hands on that software through every means possible.”

  “Are you trying to warn me that if I marry her, my government may come to me and ask me to steal documents for them? I will have nothing to do with her company. I’m a soldier, sir, like you, and I’ll always be a soldier, certainly not a corporate spy.”

  “You have the brains to work with her,” General Ranier pointed out. “You do. You always have. You could do anything at all, Sam.”

  Sam realized that the general was telling him it was okay with him if he left the military and went into the private sector. For the first time, he was aware that the general, as gruff and incapable of showing affection as he was, really cared for him. He worried like any other father might.

  “Thank you, sir. I appreciate you thinking that I could. I’m happy doing what I do. I’m good at it. I fit in here with this team. And I fit with Azami. We’ll find a way to make it work.”

  “Some women are content with part of a man. They understand that we’re just as married to our unit and our buddies as we are to them. They know they won’t know where we are or what we’re doing half the time, only that it’s dangerous work. Other women have to be a full partner. You have to know which kind you’re thinking of marrying, Sam. If it’s the wrong kind, you’ll never make it.”

  “She’s a GhostWalker, sir,” Sam said. “She’s a soldier, just like I am. She understands what and who I am, and I understand her.”

  “She’s a citizen of Japan, and that’s where her loyalties lie,” Gene
ral Ranier pointed out.

  Sam opened his mouth to protest and then closed it. He knew what his foster father was implying—that Azami couldn’t be trusted with the knowledge of such a highly controversial program as the GhostWalkers. “Sir, you aren’t hearing what I’m saying. She isn’t just a woman trained for combat. She’s literally a GhostWalker. She’s one of Whitney’s experiments.”

  General Ranier studied Sam’s face as if he might be trying to tell a bad joke. “That’s impossible. That girl’s been investigated by everyone who could possibly investigate her. She has a family in Japan. A father, two brothers . . .”

  “She was adopted just as her two brothers were.”

  “I know that,” Ranier snapped impatiently. “But she was a child when she was adopted.”

  “Briony, Jack Norton’s wife, was adopted. So was Tansy, Kadan’s wife. That’s not unusual for Whitney, is it? We don’t know how many others are out there.”

  “Is she an anchor?”

  “She has to be. She has no trouble at all with the overload of psychic energy. She lived in the middle of a martial arts school and a sword-making shop. She meets with people all over the world for Samurai Telecommunications without a problem.”

  “This is a problem, Sam,” General Ranier said. “If she’s an experiment of Whitney’s, she could be a plant.”

  Sam shook his head. “No, I’d know. She wouldn’t be able to hide it from me. When I say we fit together, I mean our minds, not just our bodies. She’s in me and I’m just as deep inside of her. For a short period of time we might be able to hide things from one another, but not for long. It just couldn’t happen.”

  “You’re so sure of her, then?”