Predatory Game
Predatory Game (GhostWalkers #6)(48)
Author: Christine Feehan
Saber wasn’t an anchor, so death, particularly a brutal one, had debilitating repercussions on her. She couldn’t afford to pass out on the job, so she added a small vial of liquid to her armament. If she killed again tonight, she’d just have to take the drug and hope it held until she could be alone somewhere safe.
She had to get through Jess’s security to the outside without him becoming aware that she was gone. He was in his office with his friend Logan, looking at something he didn’t want her to see. She’d have to spot his GhostWalkers, the ones she was certain were out there, guarding the house and Jess. They couldn’t see her leaving or returning.
She pushed open the attic door and leapt, catching the frame and swinging up. She carefully closed the door behind her, making certain it sat perfectly so it appeared undisturbed. She’d tested this route a hundred times, so she could make her way in the dark through the space to the dormer where the ventilation grill was. She followed the heating duct, avoiding a misstep as well as insulation, keeping herself as light as possible as she counted the steps to the small opening.
The louvered air vent was a twelve-inch square. She had already prepared the grill, just in case, loosening all the screws with the exception of one. She had her emergency pack stashed there along with her tools. Quickly she took out the last tight screw and simply waited there in the dark, holding the louvers while she felt the night.
There was someone on the roof. Not the enemy-at least not Jess’s enemy. Ken Norton lay up there with a rifle in his hands. Mari had to be close. Again, Saber ignored the oppressive darkness and the way it made her feel until she found Mari’s position. There was no sound or movement, neither GhostWalker gave themselves away; instead it was more of a leap in the energy, as if power was alive and lay on the rooftop.
The dormer was difficult to see from the roof itself, and neither GhostWalker had any reason to be looking as long as she moved at a snail’s pace and didn’t draw their attention. Saber carefully pulled the grill inside, taking care not to scrape it against the frame. Now came the tricky part. She had to slip through the small space to the outside without getting caught.
Movement always drew the eye and GhostWalkers had an unerring sixth sense. With excruciating patience, Saber slipped out of the attic into the open air. When she was dangling just a foot above the steeper roofline, she reached in with one hand and pulled the louvers back in position. Only a very sharp eye would spot that the air vent was slightly crooked. She let go and dropped into a crouch, her small feet making no noise as she landed.
She went still once more and waited, knowing those first few moments were the most crucial. The special clothing from her field pack would reflect her surroundings so that she appeared to fade into them. It was one small trick out of many that helped to make her invisible. She kept her energy as low as possible, changing her biorhythm so that she would give very little away to alert Ken and Mari to another’s presence.
She knew the first moment they both became suspicious. Their energy spiked as adrenaline rushed. She continued to stay still, to breathe evenly and keep her heart slow and steady, even as she automatically stretched out her rhythm to include them. She could find a heartbeat in close proximity and work with it, even without touch, but it wasn’t as easy or accurate. She couldn’t disrupt the rhythm, but she could soothe and calm.
She had previously touched both individuals and already committed their rhythms to memory. Each person’s bioelectric activity was unique even in a reversal phase. Saber had a finely honed electrical-magnetic pulse when she wanted to tap into the field her body generated. It was so strong, she had to keep her biorhythm very low indoors and around others to keep from disrupting sensitive equipment, both human and man-made.
The wave was easy enough to disrupt if she was touching her target, but she could still send pulses to coax the rhythm in a direction she wanted it to go. The key was keeping her touch so light it appeared to be natural. She couldn’t allow energy to rise around her, giving her presence away to the enhanced psychic soldier.
She waited until both Ken and Mari settled back into their normal rhythms, and then she began to make her way over the roof, threading the needle between the two GhostWalkers. She had trained against enhanced soldiers for years, moving through secured areas where cameras, motion detectors, and just about every technologic advance in security had been used against her. The last line of defense had been dogs and enhanced soldiers under orders to shoot to kill.
She didn’t flinch as she eased past Mari, staying downwind, keeping her rhythm low so as not to set off natural alarms. She was so close she could have reached out and touched Mari’s leg as she slipped by. She eased over the edge of the roof to the attached garage. If she could have chosen a different way she would have, but it was the only safe way down without risking noise. Even soft sound carried at night and out where Jess’s house was located, there was little traffic and no other houses.
She had to get off the roof as soon as possible. Ken prowled the area, quartering every inch repeatedly. He might not sense her, but his radar was extremely sensitive and either he was the most thorough guard in the world, or he was edgier than she’d like. She barely made it over the gutters before he came up on her. Her heart nearly stopped beating.
The surge of adrenaline was almost her undoing. She fought to control her body’s reaction as she dangled in the air. The tip of Ken’s shoe touched her fingers as he stood, surveying the wooded area across from the Calhoun estate. She hung directly under him, her body blending in with the shadows of the garage, and she prayed Mari wasn’t looking too closely at her husband.
Only when he moved to the other side did she allow herself a small breath of relief as she dropped to the ground. She landed in a crouch, staying low and still, while she “felt” the night around her. Navigating through enemy lines without detection required infinite patience, and over the years, Saber had become good at waiting.
She stretched out onto the open ground and crossed with painstaking slowness, like a snail, crawling with her elbows and toes until she came to the high fence. She crouched at its highest point, counting slowly in her head. This was where she’d be most vulnerable, although because she’d chosen the least likely point of entry, the chances were very low that someone would be focusing attention there at that precise moment. Luck sometimes really was the downfall of a great assassin.
The highest point of the fence was on the most open ground. Few would attempt entry there because they could be seen easily and the fence was difficult to climb. She had no intention of doing so. Behind the low-lying shrubs, she lay in the dirt and painstakingly dug a small depression. Using enhanced strength, she bent the bottom of the fence just a few inches so she could wiggle through. She had to flatten her body as best she could, all the while moving at a snail’s pace so as not to draw Ken’s or Mari’s eye. It would be easy enough to shove the dirt back in place and straighten the few inches of fencing when she returned, and no one would ever suspect she had left the estate.