Conspiracy Game (GhostWalkers #4)(73)
Author: Christine Feehan

“Someone triggered the alarm just inside the grove of trees to the left of the house,” Jack said, tossing his brother his rifle as he sprinted past. “The strobe started flashing. Make sure Briony’s safe. Get her into the tunnel and wait for me.”

Ken picked the weapon out of the air on the run, breaking off to sprint for the house. He burst through the door, shouting Briony’s name, heard the echo ring through the empty rooms, and his heart sank as he turned to follow his twin.

Not here, Jack. She’s gone.

For a moment Jack thought a vise squeezed his heart. Pain flashed through his chest-real, physical. His gut twisted into hard, cramping knots. Damn it! Briony! Answer me now! He kept running, staying in the shadows of the trees, using scent, breathing away fear for her, anger that he hadn’t been watching her close enough.

What is it, Jack?

The sound of her voice brushing through his mind like a caress was almost more than he could comprehend. For a moment he didn’t believe it and he kept running, using enhanced speed so that he was a mere blur flashing through the grove. The guns were solid in his hands, so familiar they seemed a part of him, and all the while his mind was working, planning out his strategy to ferret out the intruder and eliminate the threat. Then he comprehended-knew she was alive, knew they hadn’t taken her. His legs actually went weak in reaction-something that had never happened to him before in his life.

Take cover; go up into the trees and blend in with your surroundings. Stay very still. Ken will come to you. His voice turned hard, as his heart settled. She had a lot to answer for and it wasn’t going to be pleasant. Damn her for making him feel what amounted to terror, for causing him to lose-even for a moment-his equilibrium.

Briony didn’t ask questions. The icy cold in his voice warned her-Jack was beyond angry with her. She glanced right and left to ensure she was alone, and leapt into the lower branches of a tree, climbing fast to the thicker canopy, changing colors as she did so to blend with the foliage. She wore beige trousers and a soft gray and beige shirt. She hoped the neutral colors helped to camouflage her in the dense leaves.

It wasn’t that she’d forgotten she was in danger-it was just that she’d felt safe. Stupid, stupid mistake. She’d come to Jack Norton for lessons in survival, and she had the feeling she was about to get one she’d never forget. There was nothing politically correct about Jack; he was quite capable of extreme violence, but never once, not for one moment, did she believe he would hurt her. And where had that trust come from?

Briony crouched in the tree, trying to figure out how and why she was with Jack. Why were they such a good fit? Because she knew they were-even if he didn’t-and she was going to hold on to that when he came for her, fiercely angry for her stupidity.

The wind was stronger in the canopy, and she inhaled, hoping to catch the scent of any intruder and to figure out just where Jack and Ken were. Jack, she picked up right away, moving fast toward her. There was someone else, someone who didn’t bathe often and smelled of animals, pungent sweat, and dirt.

There’s a man just south of you, Jack.

Her warning wasn’t needed. Jack knew the precise location of the man wandering through his property-and he knew by the smell who it was. He whistled and signaled Ken to circle around and get behind the intruder. Stay where you are, Briony. I don’t want him to see you.

Ken moved into position, settling into the high branches of a tree, rifle in hand, eye to the scope. It’s old man Brady.

Jack swore softly. Could be a trap. It would be like the bastard to use a helpless old man. Watch your back, Ken, and keep an eye on Briony.

I’m watching your back. You be careful. I’ll take him out if I have to.

Jack snapped his teeth together to keep from swearing at his twin. He took a deep breath and let it go, letting the ice replace the adrenaline rushing through his veins. We do this one by the book, Ken. We have no choice. She’s primary, you’re second. I take out the enemy and you protect Briony.

You’re going to be a father, Jack. Your life…

Don’t you f**king argue with me over this. Get to the primary and provide protection.

For the first time in their working relationship, Ken hesitated. Jack bit back another command, still running, until he was within a couple of yards of the intruder. He was wearing the color of the forest on his skin, and his clothes reflected his surroundings so it was nearly impossible to see him. He froze in place, making no sound, waiting for the old mountain man to come to him. Ken had no choice but to protect Briony and leave the target to Jack.

Brady O’Conner had lived in the forest for more than thirty years. He lived mostly in a cave several miles to the east of the Norton property line, and lived by trapping animals and eating roots. He sometimes came to Jack and Ken when he was hungry, mostly in the winter, or if he was injured and needed medical aid. He didn’t talk much, and as far as Jack knew, he had little contact with anyone off the mountain.

If he’s not alone, they’re good. I can’t spot anyone. The forest is quiet; animals and birds going about their business. I say he’s alone, Ken reported.

Jack couldn’t detect the scent of another human through the ripe odor Brady gave off. He waited until the man was nearly on top of him before stepping out of the shadows. “Brady. What brings you my way?”

The older man startled, pulling back with a gasp. “I didn’t see you there, Jack.” The faded eyes darted left and right. “Ken around? He said you had extra from the garden this year.”

Ran into him about three weeks ago, Ken confirmed when Jack relayed the information.

“We’ll fix you a bag of food, Brady,” Jack said. “You see anyone around in the last few weeks? It’s been quiet here.”

The old man shook his head. “Hikers and campers don’t come up this way much. Good thing too. Too many damn people if you ask me.”

Jack’s built-in radar zinged off the chart. Too many damned people, Ken. He shared the answer with his brother. I don’t like the way he said that.

Neither do I. You stay on him, Jack. I’ll get him the supplies.

The blade lay up against Jack’s wrist where it couldn’t be seen. I’m in position. Get it fast and let’s get him out of here. He indicated the ground. “You want to sit and wait for Ken?”

“I’m outa coffee.”

“He’ll bring it.” Again, Jack sent the information to Ken.

“Now you mention it, I did see someone nosing around the falls a couple a days ago. I think they took my supplies. I’d hid ’em in the root cellar.” The old man cackled at his own joke. His root cellar was actually a network of roots in a small cavern just beside the falls.