Street Game (GhostWalkers #8)(62)
Author: Christine Feehan

“Okay. Sheesh, Mack, things take time. I’m running a special purpose, ‘brute force’ program. The two words for the ‘location’ are drawn from a database of about a million words. The two words for ‘what happened’ are drawn from another database of about a million words. And the two words for ‘why the experience was traumatic’

are drawn from a database of about 100,000 words.”

“That sounds like it’s going to take more time than I think we have.”

“Mack, come on,” Javier said. “This is a miracle. If Jaimie hadn’t written the program in the first place, it would be virtually impossible to even get close. We’d have to try all combinations of six words and that would take centuries.”

“Exactly. It may sound like a lot of combinations, babe,” Jaimie assured, “but it’s small enough that we can ‘brute force search’ our way through all the possibilities in under two hours. Can you give us two hours?”

She’d called him “babe.” She hadn’t done that in two years. It had come out easy and natural, with that little intonation of affection she could never quite mask. It had always annoyed him before because she’d begun doing it in retaliation when she objected to his calling her “baby.” He liked calling her “baby,” not because he thought of her as a baby but because it was a term of endearment his father had used with his mother. It was one of the few memories he had of his father. He supposed it was silly on his part, and he should have stopped when she’d objected, but he’d continued.

She’d retaliated and then gone on from there. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed that small exchange between them.

“I can wait a couple of hours. That kid is quite the puzzle,” he added, toeing a chair around and straddling it.

“Actually, boss, everyone likes him. He’s secretive, really keeps to himself, but he pulls his weight and never once has objected to the ribbing we give him. He sometimes even gives back as good as he gets,” Javier said.

“Who, of the men, is Paul closest with?” Mack asked.

“Gideon, but Gideon gets along with everyone,” Javier said immediately.

“Probably Lucas and Ethan.”

“Turns out our Paul is a very valuable commodity,” Mack said. He lowered his voice from habit. “We think he’s a psychic surgeon.”

Javier turned in his seat so fast he nearly fell. “I thought that was a myth.”

Jaimie frowned. “How come you didn’t know, Mack? That’s big. Huge. No one really believes such a thing exists. I can hardly believe someone has that kind of talent. If he does, no one else must know about it or he wouldn’t be in your unit.”

Mack frowned. “Every unit should have a psychic surgeon going into combat with them. Think of the lives you could save. If you could take the violence, even you, Jaimie, would have an easier time of it if we had a skilled surgeon. Hell, we talked about this for months when we were in the hospital undergoing the psychic evaluation and enhancement. Psychic surgery was the one talent they screened for aggressively.”

“There are a few healers, but not an actual surgeon,” Jaimie pointed out. “Do you really think they’d put the only one they had in the field, Mack? They’d want to study him and figure out how his talent works, to maybe try to reproduce it.”

Mack closed his mouth, teeth snapping together. “I didn’t think about that.”

“Like Gideon and Joe, Mack,” Jaimie said. “I don’t think anyone knows about their differences, not even them.”

“Or you,” Mack said. “We know Whitney wants to know how your talent works.”

Javier flashed a grin at Mack. “Makes you think we’re just run of the mill, boss.”

“Be grateful, Javier.”

“What’s with Gideon lately? I’m a little worried about him,” Javier said, the smile fading from his face.

“I don’t know. I think everyone’s talent has been growing. Have you noticed your psychic skills getting sharper? Expanding?”

Javier shrugged. “I don’t pay much attention. I just do my thing. I’ve always been accurate. I have good hand-eye coordination and fast reflexes. I attribute everything to that.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose and gave a small sigh. “I don’t want to think about it, Mack. We went into this together. I’m in my element.” He flashed Jaimie a wan smile. “Sorry, hon, but I am. Mack is. All of us.”

“I know. I’m just wired differently.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Javier said. “We like the way you’re wired.”

The computer made a rude noise and Jaimie lost all interest in the conversation, turning back abruptly to the laptop and hitting a few keys. She broke out in a satisfied smile.

“Here we go, Mack. We’re in. His passwords are on the screen.” She turned the laptop to face him so he could read easily. “We got it in just over an hour.”

LOCATION WHAT HAPPENED WHY TRAUMATIC [ red ] [ barn ] [ bee ] [

stings ] [ nearly ] [ died ]

“Poor Paul ran into some very unfriendly bees in a red barn when he was a kid,”

she explained. “He was probably allergic and most likely went to a hospital.

Definitely a nasty experience for him, and one he’d remember, but one you’d never find on his resume. Nothing he would have told anyone. And not something you could grill his parents about and extract from them.”

“Can you get into whatever he’s hiding?”

Javier scanned the documents. “Letters. To Sergeant Major.”

Mack swore under his breath. Deep, in the pit of his stomach, where no one could see, he felt sick. Bile rose. He knew what he would have to do. “I knew the kid was spying. What’s Sergeant Major into? Why in the hell is he selling us down the river?

Go through them carefully, Javier. You too, Jaimie. I don’t want you to miss anything. Did Griffen think I wouldn’t catch the kid? And he had to know what I’d do if I caught him. Damn him for this.”

Jaimie spun around in her chair. “First of all, you wouldn’t have caught him if we hadn’t been experimenting. And secondly, what do you mean by what you would do if you caught him?”

Mack shook his head, his gaze meeting Javier’s.

“No! I mean it, Mack. I helped you get into his laptop. You never would have if it wasn’t for me. Don’t you dare hurt him.”