Conspiracy Game

She slipped her arm around Jack’s waist and took most of his weight. If she wasn’t enhanced, how could she practically carry a man of his size? He was twice her weight. “How were we enhanced?”

“Dr. Whitney.”

Her mouth went dry. She knew that name. Knew he was the one who had put her up for adoption, who had designed her education and provided medical care for her and her family her entire life. Her birth father? Had he even been her father? What was she? Some kind of freak experiment?

Her mind began racing with the possibilities. Why were they both there in Kinshasa? Was it a coincidence that Jack and her brother Jebediah were in the service together? What were the odds that they would all end up in Africa together, especially since someone had paid an exorbitant amount of money to get them there?

Briony risked a brief glance at Jack’s face. Even ravaged by pain and suffering, he was handsome in a masculine, chiseled sort of way. His features seemed carved out of stone, not real, but hard and weathered while remaining good-looking. He kept his gaze focused ahead, walking steadily, but more and more his weight was on her. The slow blood loss, coupled with exhaustion and his terrible wounds, was taking its toll. “Keep walking. One foot in front of the other.” The closer she got him to the city, the less distance she’d have to carry him-and it looked like carrying was going to be involved.

They struggled for about a mile, following the stream. Briony had paused to get a better grip on him, when he suddenly pushed her to the ground, covering her body with his. His skin changed color to match the darker vegetation on the forest floor, and she immediately did her best to match his stripes. Jack had been nearly unconscious, but suddenly he was alert, pulling a handgun and signaling her to silence.

What is it?

Sniper. He’s been tracking me since I escaped the rebel camp. He’s damned dangerous. You should have left when I told you to go.

Briony’s heart tripped into overtime and she tasted the familiar dryness of fear. She took a deep breath to combat the adrenaline and forced her mind away from panic as she lay listening. He’s behind us and to our right.

That would be him. Hopefully he didn’t spot us while I was being careless.

Briony squeezed her eyes closed tight and tried not to breathe. She hoped not, as well. She couldn’t let this man suffer any more. No matter who he was or what he’d done, no one deserved to be tortured like he had been. She took a deep breath. Are you a good shot?

Jack looked at her. You aren’t going to do anything stupid.

You’re going to pass out, tough guy. I know the signs. We don’t have all that much time and we can’t afford him behind us. I’m a good shot-but… She hesitated.

Jack’s hand tightened on the nape of her neck. Whatever you’re thinking-don’t.

Briony knew they couldn’t outwait the sniper. Jack was going to pass out. How he’d rallied enough to know what was going on was beyond her. I’m thinking I’m scared.

Don’t be. I’ll get you out of this. See those trees to our right? I’m going to cover you. You do a slow crawl to the trees and get into the branches. Use the branches to make it to the river. Keep your skin camouflaged and don’t draw attention to yourself. Jack slipped her the handgun. You know how to use this thing?

Briony hesitated then put her hand over the gun. There was no way to explain to him what the aftermath of violence could do to her. Feeling someone’s emotions, feeling them die would bring a total meltdown. On the other hand, she was well trained, an expert marksman, and she believed in self-defense. I know how to use it.

He turned toward the region of forest where he was certain the sniper followed them. On his belly, eye to the scope, he waved her forward. Go. Get out of here. Don’t stop moving until you’re safe in your room.

Briony inched her way through the ferns and rotting leaves, her heart pounding overly loud. She detested being a coward, wondering why, with all her special skills, she was always so afraid. She made it to the trees and crouched in the deepest shadows, studying the branches and vines for the best shelter, for the best position. With her extraordinary night vision, she was able to see some twenty-five feet up and over two trees, to a particularly large tree trunk with an umbrella of branches spreading in every direction, perfect for her needs.

Briony leapt to the lowest branch of the nearest tree and began to climb swiftly. She was slight, her body made for the aerial acts she’d practiced since she was a toddler. It was easy to use the vines to pull herself through the trees until she reached the tree beside the one with the larger, thicker trunk. She had taken care to stay hidden within the foliage when she climbed, but now she deliberately reached out and shook a branch, not too hard, just enough to give away her position.

What the hell are you doing?

Drawing his fire to give you a target.

You do that again and I swear I’ll beat you within an inch of your life.

She could hear the menace prowling through his declaration-but felt it was an empty threat. Jack was a scary man, but he wasn’t a man who would ever beat a woman-just the opposite in fact-unless she was the enemy. She’d caught that information in his mind. Well, I’m not leaving you behind. Get ready to shoot something because I’m going to let him see me.

Damn it. Just damn it.

Helpless male rage filled her mind, but she didn’t wait-couldn’t wait. Her courage was going to fail if she didn’t act right then. Briony allowed the branch of the tree to sway just a little more, as if something heavy had stepped onto it. There was no wind in the forest, and the movement would draw the eye of the sniper instantly. Briony leapt to the next tree, sheltering behind the wide trunk, just as the bullet sent splinters of bark showering over her. Several pieces embedded in her arm and one in her chin. On the heels of the first shot came the second.

Tell me you’re all right.

Briony clung to the tree, forcing her knees to be stiff when her legs had turned to rubber. The bullet had hit only inches from her head. The sniper had fired a lot faster than she’d anticipated. She sagged against the trunk and waited for her body to stop shaking. Blood trickled from the stinging wounds, but the splinters were mere scratches when it could have been so much worse. Did you get him?

Stay still. There were two of them. I took out the sniper, but his spotter is just as capable. You aren’t hit. Jack made it a statement as he kept his eye to the scope, waiting for a shot at the spotter. He detested the fact that he was distracted by worry. He was worried about her. Answer me now or I’m coming to you. He would too. He’d risk getting shot just to make certain there wasn’t a scratch on her body-at least not one he hadn’t put there. His fingers itched to shake her for taking such a chance.

I’m fine. Those shots are going to be heard by someone. They’ve got friends.

Get the hell out of here. Back to your room. Take a shower and get rid of those clothes. Ditch the gun in the forest. If anyone does any searches, you were asleep the entire time. Jack rested his head on his rifle for a moment and then put his eye back to the scope. The lens blurred. He was weak and running out of time. In another few minutes he wouldn’t be able to protect her-and that made him feel the edge of desperation.

Briony stood for a long while in the tree, too shaken to move. She’d always had incredible night vision, and now, staring into the area where the sniper had been, she spotted the broad leaves of a philodendron plant swaying slightly. The spotter was making his way toward Jack.

Do you see him?

There was no response-not even awareness. Briony’s breath left her lungs in a rush. Jack was unconscious, or nearly so, and the enemy was creeping up on him. Before she had time to think, she leapt down to a tree branch that swept the ground. The forest floor was thickly carpeted with vegetation and cushioned her footsteps as she stealthily made her way through the underbrush back toward Jack. She had no real idea of what she was going to do, but she couldn’t let him die.

She didn’t examine too closely the need to keep Jack alive. There was no time for introspection, only to know she couldn’t leave him. She shoved her way through the tangle of vines and bushes, dropping flat to crawl along a narrow animal trail. She pushed through a particularly thick mass of ferns into damp earth. A noise to her left had her dropping flat. She lay still for a moment, her heart pounding.