Street Game

Jaimie crouched on the floor of the van, her heart pounding so hard she was afraid it would burst through her chest. All around her, crammed close like sardines, were men in combat gear, full black from caps to crepe-soled shoes. Her mouth felt like cotton. She was an analyst, not a field operative. Why wouldn’t anyone pay attention when she told them?

They had traveled for so many hours, poring over detailed blueprints, talking out every possibility, covering the smallest points, until Jaimie was exhausted and had lost track of time. The clothing was all too familiar; it clung to her like a second skin, as if she belonged. The men trained every day- every day in hostage rescue. Each one of them was a marksman. Each spent hours and hours on the range making certain every bullet they fired hit its target. They were all in superb shape. She must have been crazy to do this.

She opened her mouth to make another protest and closed it abruptly. They’d gone over every single detail in the hours of flight. All of them had slept the moment they’d closed their eyes. They’d trained their bodies to rest anywhere they could, under any circumstances. She looked around at the men she regarded as brothers-at the man she loved-and she realized they were born for this work.

She heard the murmur of their voices as if from a distance, the soft ribbing back and forth. Once, Kane leaned over and inspected Paul’s pack. She felt the difference in the men even before the van began to slow. The adrenaline rush was unbelievable. For a moment, the chemicals running through her body nearly paralyzed her. Just breathe through it, Jaimie, Mack’s voice slipped into her mind. You’ll do fine.

She nodded her head, but didn’t trust herself to speak. He looked so confident. She couldn’t imagine him not succeeding. Failure wasn’t in his vocabulary. It was in the way he carried himself, the set of his shoulders. He would have been an extraordinary soldier without his enhancements, and they’d only made him that much better at what he did.

She forced another breath of air through her lungs.

Twenty seconds, Kane intoned.

Although there was an arsenal of weapons available, they all carried tranq guns. She opted for a double- barreled, compressed-air tranq gun loaded with small medicated darts, guaranteed for an instant knockout. She knew the men were just as deadly with or without their firepower. This time, they would be going in and out silently, like wraiths, and they’d leave it to the Special Ops to do cleanup. All that was important was the package.

Ten seconds.

Jaimie wiped the back of her hand across her mouth. The rain was no more than a misty drizzle. It was a night without moon or stars, a night made for some dark, deadly purpose. She shoved the gun around her neck, freeing her hands to go up and over the fence. They had to be in the right sector with the right guards. Once over the fence, they were on their own.

There was a distinct chill in the air despite the closeness of the bodies crammed in the van. She found herself shivering, her teeth wanting to chatter, the overload of adrenaline nearly impossible to handle without action. Mack laid a hand on her arm without saying anything, but his body was warm and comforting next to hers and settled her more.

Five seconds. Kane’s voice was like the proverbial tolling of the bell in her head. From down the street there was the sudden flare-up of automobile headlights, the whine of one vehicle, the purr of another. The honored guests at the ambassador’s dinner party were arriving in a steady stream. Sounds of laughter and music drifted on the night breeze. The damp night had not dampened the guests’ spirits in the least. Kane slipped from the van. No interior light glowed. The blackness held intact and he became part of it. He moved in silence, sliding across the grassy shoulder between the road and the high fence. He could hear the sounds of activity just around the slight bend, but he was removed from them. The guard dogs patrolling with their handlers throughout the ten acres had obviously been doubled. Five buildings were connected with circular paths throughout the courtyards. Marine guards were on high alert, and it showed in their patrols. They were in constant communication with one another.

Kane approached the sector where the Special Ops guard was supposed to have been stationed. Gideon slipped out of the van next and worked his way through the short grass and flowers on his belly, his eyes and gun centered on the guard. Jaimie felt the tension instantly. For all of them, this was the most frightening moment. If the Special Ops guard hadn’t replaced the regular Marine, the mission could end before it began.

I’ve got him covered, Gideon sent.

Kane moved into position and let out a low one-two whistle. There was a brief moment of silence. Jaimie’s heart nearly exploded it pounded so hard. She was afraid the others might be able to hear it. Then it came, that same soft whistle, a single highlow note they waited for. Mack put his hand on Jaimie’s shoulder and sent Javier out. Kane went up and over the fence, clearing it in one efficient leap. He landed in a crouch, his weapon sweeping the complex.

Clear, Kane whispered in their minds.

Javier didn’t hesitate. He went up and over, using the same technique, jumping from a crouch and clearing the fence to land on the other side like a cat. As Kane moved forward into the well-trimmed bushes marking one of the many courtyards, Javier swept the complex with his weapon. Clear, he said. Mack tapped Jaimie’s shoulder. She found herself running toward the fence. It loomed in front of her, high and thick. Her breath soared through her lungs. She felt the adrenaline move through her body, felt her muscles like well-oiled machines. She stretched, went up and over, landing silently.

Javier used his weapon to indicate to her to follow Kane. She didn’t even glance at the soldier guarding the fence. She’d landed a few feet from him, the ground rising up to meet her feet as if she was a large cat, capable of jumping great distances. He had to wonder how they were doing it, but if he was concerned, he didn’t move, didn’t look toward them, staring off into the night as if they weren’t invading his side of the fence.

She ran toward Kane’s position, keeping herself low, reveling in the efficient way her body moved. Elation swept through her. She’d forgotten the sheer joy of using her abilities, having suppressed them for so long. She’d try re-creating the feeling by penetrating corporation’s security, but it wasn’t the same as life or death. It wasn’t the same as working with a team you trusted implicitly. Joy sang in her veins. Every sense was acute, her sense of smell, her eyesight, even tactile feeling. She’d forgotten so much.

Clear. She heard Javier whisper it in her mind.

Mack soared over the fence with ease. His landing was totally silent, an amazing feat for a large, heavily muscled man. Javier moved forward, flanking Jaimie. Dog coming, Kane whispered in their minds.

He motioned and the three of them went to the ground, lying prone, knowing Mack had done the same. He was out in the open, a few feet from the guard, but glancing back, he’d disappeared entirely. Jaimie knew Gideon was still lying in the grass, covering them with his rifle, but he was impossible to see at the best of times. She’d bet her last dollar that the Special Ops guard had no idea Gideon was even close to him.

The dog reacted restlessly to their scent. Too much large cat DNA. She’d known even before she’d read their files that Whitney had genetically altered all of her family in various ways. With the way all of them could leap distances, it wasn’t hard to believe that leopard DNA was used. The dog shied away from the courtyard, not wanting to get too close to the dangerous scent. He pulled on the lead so that the handler sharply reprimanded him.

Kane reached, mind to mind, to calm the dog. It wasn’t difficult to penetrate the energy shield around the animal and then push further until he was connected in the brain. The dog settled down and happily walked on through the garden area with his handler.

Jacob Princeton was the last man going in from their team. He could detect a bomb fairly easily, every bit as well as a dog, his enhanced senses enabling him to sniff out the chemicals. He was up and over the fence, moving with Mack to join the others. They moved in single file, careful not to disturb anything, leaving no trace of their passing. They didn’t want so much as a blade of grass crushed beneath their feet. They took great care not to snap off any plants as they moved through the garden toward the back wall of the courtyard.

Jaimie didn’t look around her to see the other members of the team. In the utter pitch blackness of the grounds, it would have been impossible anyway. There was an eerie feel to moving through the drizzling rain, in the darkness without a sound, almost as if they didn’t exist, as if they were the ghosts everyone purported them to be.