A heart attack? Javier asked.
Yeah, a little convenient.
It could happen, Javier pointed out. Stranger things had.
The problem with the address? Jaimie being here? Madigan having a heart attack before he can get the guns into Doomsday's hands? Those conveniences just keep piling up, Mack said. Watch her and don't trust anyone.
I never do, Javier responded as he made his way up to the second story.
If Mack thought they were all being manipulated, the chances were great that they had been. Mack rarely was wrong when he got a strong enough hunch to say it out loud.
On the second story, two more boxes were opened that hadn't been earlier, which meant Jaimie had been upset after they left and had worked rather than gone to bed. He added a few charges to slow down any unwanted guests and made his way to Jaimie's living quarters. The aroma of coffee hit him immediately.
Javier grinned at her. "I forgot you make the best coffee on the planet."
The upper story had a few dim night-lights glowing; he didn't want shadows across the windows giving away their positions, but she hadn't turned on any bright lights. Jaimie turned around and leaned one hip against her counter. His stomach knotted. Here it came. Damn it. He had hoped Mack would get this, not him.
"I haven't seen any of you in two years and within minutes of seeing you, I've got trouble on my doorstep, haven't I, Javier?"
He tried an angelic grin. It worked on most women, but she knew him. She didn't smile back and her eyes flickered. Oh, yeah. She was upset. "I like to think we arrived just in the nick of time to save the damsel in distress."
She sat on the counter and swung her legs. "Just how much danger is there, Javier?"
He winked. "None now that I'm here. We'll just stay away from the windows. You do have an escape route up here, right?" He couldn't imagine a planner like Jaimie not incorporating a secret escape or two.
She nodded curtly. "Don't be cute with me, Javier." She narrowed her eyes and looked at him closer. "Come here."
He took a step back, wary of that expression on her face. He'd seen it before on a woman and it never boded well. "I'm just hanging out with you, Jaimie."
"Really? Then why is there blood on your sleeve?" She wrinkled her nose. "I smell fresh blood."
The woman had always had sharp eyes. And an even keener sense of smell. Javier shrugged. "All in the line of duty. You had a couple of rats sniffing around your back door, babe. I just took care of them for you, is all."
She shook her head, jumped from the counter and turned her back on him to busy herself with the coffee. He noted her hands shook. "I'm not doing this again, Javier. You can't let Mack drag me back in." She didn't add cream or sugar, handing the aromatic liquid to him just the way he liked it. "I can't go back to that life. This is my home now. I've established myself in business here and I have a chance to succeed."
"Mack would want you to succeed," Javier pointed out, going straight to the heart of the matter. "He'd never do anything to jeopardize you."
She looked away from him again, her mouth trembling before she managed to bite down hard. He was good at details, better than most, and although Jaimie was adept at covering her emotions, he knew her too well. He took a sip of coffee and savored the great taste.
"Mack and I don't work together," she said. "You're my brother, Javier. It ought to matter that I don't want to see him."
"He's my brother too, and you're killing him with this separation, Jaimie."
"He walked out on us. None of you seem to understand that."
"I understand I haven't seen you in two years." He couldn't help the accusation in his voice. She'd been the closest thing he had to a sister.
Jaimie ducked her head. "I know. I'm sorry. That wasn't fair of me. I couldn't have broken away from him unless I made a clean break from all of you."
"We had to mean something to you."
She did look up at him then. Quick. Startled. Shocked. "Of course you do. You're my family. I know I should have kept in touch with all of you. I missed you terribly, every single day. I had no one and I guess I consoled myself with the fact that you all had each other."
"I saw Mack after you disappeared. He was insane."
"He didn't come after me."
Javier took another swallow of coffee. No, Mack hadn't followed her and brought her back, and Javier couldn't explain that one. No one understood Mack, except maybe Kane, and he wasn't prone to talking much about Mack. They'd all tried to talk to him, but Jaimie became a taboo subject and they learned fast not to mention her.
"I'm not over him," Jaimie admitted. "I saw him and I just crumbled inside. I can't go through all that again, Javier."
"I don't know what's going on, Jaimie, but I'm not leaving here until I know you're safe. That warehouse may or may not be stocked with weapons. We'll get inside and find out. We're ghosts, that's what we do. But not now, not tonight. Tonight your safety is the priority. We'll have to figure out what's going on."
"He's going to stay, isn't he?"
Javier cursed inwardly. "Yeah, babe, he's going to stay. He'd never take a chance with your life either."
She sighed and shook her head. "You hungry?" Her head came up suddenly and she half turned toward the stairway.
Javier followed her gaze, keeping his voice as casual as ever. "I'm always hungry. You know that."
You have a couple of rats poking around your back door, Mack's voice whispered in Javier's mind. I'm working my way up behind them.
Javier set down his coffee cup, caught Jaimie's arm, and tugged even as she was moving away from the refrigerator, her eyes wide in understanding. Escape route?
She didn't ask questions. Jaimie wouldn't. She was a professional all the way--there'd never been a doubt about that. And she had known about the same time as Mack had spotted them. She always knew. She led the way across to the corner on the water side. Moving a small table, he could see the door in the wall.
Down a chute. I have a boat waiting.
He gave her the signal to stay put right there and drew out a gun to hand her. Jaimie shook her head. He gave her his sternest scowl. It did no good.
Jaimie refuses a weapon, Mack.
Damn it.
The cold, grim tone made him hesitate. Mack wasn't going to help his cause by getting angry. The last time Jaimie had a gun in her possession, things hadn't ended up going very well.
Jaimie, damn it, don't give me trouble, Mack snapped, shoving the words into Jaimie's mind. We're in a world of hurt right now. Take the damn gun and use it if you need to. You know how to shoot.
She didn't argue. She took the gun from Javier and laid it in her lap. She kept her face averted. Javier felt as if he'd slapped her. Tattling wasn't fun.
Jaimie stayed very still, drawing her knees up, trying desperately not to allow images into her mind. This wasn't her life. She had left it all behind. She'd tried to tell Mack what was happening, but the adrenaline rush was too addic
tive for a man like him to do without. Who could ever compete with that? He didn't care that the experiments had altered them genetically as well as enhanced their psychic abilities.
Their GhostWalker team had brought them all back together. That was what Mack and Kane saw. A chance to be together again, to look out for one another, to use their considerable talents in a positive way and prevent the others--men like Javier who needed action--from doing anything that would land them in prison. Mack hadn't seen how aggressive all the men were becoming. He hadn't noticed a lot of things he should have noticed. He was swept up in the training and forgot the things Jaimie was good at.
She saw people differently. She felt things--knew things--and she knew they were being lied to. She saw through the patriotic talk and the propaganda, but Mack couldn't hear her. He'd already been so far into the experiments and training that there was no reasoning with him. He knew she didn't like urban warfare. She didn't ever want to have to make a judgment call and risk killing an innocent. All Mack saw was a chance to use his incredible psychic talents to save the world.
Because Jaimie was wired that way, and she never stopped digging, she managed to piece together a little information on the existing GhostWalker teams. There were four that she'd uncovered. The first and oldest was comprised mainly of men with army backgrounds, Rangers and Green Berets, although there was an FBI agent with extensive military training on it as well. The men had undergone a tremendous number of experiments as well as training. A few of them were anchors, men who would draw the overload of psychic energy from the others so they could function properly. They usually worked together as a team, the anchor staying close to those who couldn't work without one.
The newspapers had reported that Dr. Peter Whitney, the brains behind the GhostWalker experiments, had been murdered, yet she'd had contact with him after that time. Brian Hutton had worked in a unit that had guarded a facility where he'd been working, and several others, Kane among them, had done so as well. She had a high security clearance and had continued to help analyze information. During that time she'd kept tabs on her family to ensure they were all doing fine and no one was double-crossing them as she suspected had happened to Team One.
She rubbed her temples, trying to stop the headache already pounding there in spite of Javier's presence. Team Three--Mack's team--was comprised of all anchors, very rare in the world of GhostWalkers, and she knew they often had to work alone on their assignments, impossible for someone overcome by psychic overload. She had been the exception. She still wondered why they'd made the exception for her, as she wasn't an anchor and couldn't work alone. She believed Mack and Kane had something to do with the decision, but she couldn't be certain. She'd never been able to access her own records. For all her skills, she hadn't been able to get to her file--and that bothered her more than anything.