Street Game (GhostWalkers #8)(64)
Author: Christine Feehan

The good with the bad? Reality? Her hands shook as they flew over the keys, her mind searching for answers. What would she have Mack do? She hadn’t been able to pull the trigger and she blamed him for putting her in that position, but in reality, she’d chosen to be there. She was angry and ashamed that she hadn’t been able to do it. That she wasn’t as strong as he was. Mack knew that about her and he didn’t care.

He accepted that she couldn’t be around violence or commit it herself. Was she punishing him for being stronger than her? She just didn’t know anymore, but she was beginning to have doubts about her reasoning.

“You know, boss, so far, he hasn’t reported anything at all about any of us or what we’ve done. He’s actually painting a rosier picture than he’s had it with us. These letters are short and more reassuring, like a kid writing home rather than reporting.

Unless he has a code I can’t see.”

Jaimie shook her head. “I don’t see any pattern. I think they’re just letters.”

“Why would he hide them behind an elaborate security system?” Mack asked, coming up behind Jaimie and dropping his hands on her shoulders. His fingers dug into her sore muscles, massaging the tension from her. His touch was firm, but very gentle, as always. For all his enormous strength, Mack was always gentle. “Why would he be writing Sergeant Major?” Mack asked. “Come on, Jaimie, you’re smart.

You’ve read a few. Who is he? What’s he saying? Why the sergeant major? You’re an analyst. Analyze.”

“Well, the tone of the letters is very careful. He’s watching what he’s saying, not wanting to reveal too much. Is he happy? Sad? Upset that he’s where he is? Or upset that he’s having to make reports? Some of it is very genuine. He mentions a couple of funny things with Gideon and Ethan, and there’s a trace of affection in the way he words it, as if both men mean something to him. I think he’s trying to portray that he fits in, that he’s comfortable where he is. Like letters a kid might write home from a summer camp to a parent.”

Silence descended as all three let that sink in. The clock ticked out a rhythm. A heartbeat. Mack closed his eyes briefly. “Jaimie. Talk to me, honey.”

She moistened her lips, glanced at Javier, and then turned. “I think he’s Sergeant Major’s son. He never addresses him as anything but ‘sir,’ but based on these short letters back and forth between them, I’d have to say, the contents, coupled with the fact that he kept them protected rather than deleting them, say they’re related, most likely father and son.”

Mack slammed both palms flat on the desk, swearing between his teeth. “What the hell is going on here, Jaimie?” She’d always been his sounding board for as long as he could remember, with her quick brain and sharp intelligence. She could see patterns faster than anyone he knew. She could put together puzzles so quickly computers could barely keep up.

Jaimie bit down on her lip. Mack never hesitated asking her opinion. Never. Even if he knew he wouldn’t like her answer. He listened to her, respected her. She knew he did. One time he hadn’t listened, and she’d left—walked out on him. He’d been upset. His men had been wounded. He’d nearly been killed. They’d walked into a trap. She’d blamed him for leading them there, and yet, she was just as much to blame. They all were. But in the end, they’d let Mack shoulder the responsibility for it, just as they always did. The others let it go, but she hadn’t. She’d accused him, and then she’d walked out when he didn’t respond.

She dropped her head in her hands, rubbing at her pounding temples. Instantly Mack’s fingers were on her scalp, massaging her head, in an effort to ease the ache.

“Are you tired, honey? Maybe we should lay this down for a while. You could sleep a few hours and look it over with fresh eyes.”

“I’m okay. Let me go through all of these. I’m reading through Sergeant Major’s replies as well. I might find something else.”

“I have to agree with Jaimie here,” Javier said. “It doesn’t make a lot of sense, but either he has the best code in the world, or he’s simply writing Griffen a few lines a day, in a way that would tell the sergeant major that he was okay. Everyday stuff.”

“What about the times Kane and Brian were sent out and I ordered you and Ethan and Gideon to go as backup? He wanted to go the last time.”

“I checked for letters during those dates,” Javier said, “and nothing changed. He never once mentioned the mission or any of the men. He didn’t say he was disappointed for not going. He skipped a day, but that wasn’t unusual.”

“His skipped days don’t necessarily correspond with your missions,” Jaimie said.

“I thought of that and checked.”

“Could something be buried in the letters we’re not seeing?” Mack asked.

Javier snorted and Jaimie gave him a quick, flashing smile. Mack threw his hands into the air. “Okay, okay, I’ll shut up. It’s just that . . .”

Hell. He liked the kid. He thought of Sergeant Major not only as a good friend, but perhaps a favorite uncle. Contemplating killing both men was not pleasant. And if they were father and son—and the kid was innocent—how was he going to kill Sergeant Major and live with the son? Either way, Griffen had to answer for the suicide missions.

“Damn it, Jaimie.”

“I’m doing the best I can, Mack.” Her voice was soothing. “I know this is upsetting, but don’t think about it until the facts are in.”

He knew his mouth gaped open. It was the last thing he expected out of her mouth. Condemnation maybe. But quiet support? She knew what was at stake. What the hell had changed her mind? He would never understand women as long as he lived—at least not Jaimie.

He took up his pacing again. He’d just been handed the biggest asset a GhostWalker team could have—a psychic surgeon—yet he’d been kept in the dark.

Would the boy have come forward in combat if there was an injury? Paul had been antsy the moment Gideon had stepped into the room. His hands had begun a complicated and obsessive-compulsive pattern, as if his entire body was already psychically tuned to the suffering man. What would have happened if he’d been exposed to Jaimie after she used her talent? Why hadn’t Sergeant Major, or Paul, revealed his talent so he could be used when he clearly so needed to heal?