Sam knew he was falling fast. She was so composed under fire, so perfect in every way for a man like him. He loved the way she looked: regal, a Japanese princess with etiquette ingrained in her, with such grace and poise, and yet any moment she could erupt into a lethal killing machine if circumstances called for her to do so.
Ryland nodded. “I suppose you have a point. I would do the same thing.”
“I knew Whitney would eventually try to get his hands on one of our satellites, and it was the perfect opportunity to get to him. He would have to meet with us. His location is well hidden and he moves often. He can utilize any U. S. military base in the world and has friends in very high places helping him. He’s a ghost, elusive and impossible to track at this point. Our satellites were the perfect bait.”
“What went wrong?”
Azami shrugged. “He refused to meet with us personally. He wanted his representatives to stand in for him, so of course we refused. He offered much more money, but we reiterated we had a policy in place we never deviated from. He still refused a face-to-face. Three times he tried bribing one of my people and once he tried blackmail, in the hopes of being able to duplicate our software and lens.”
“He would try to get a spy in your camp.”
“It is impossible.”
“Nothing is impossible, Azami,” Ryland disagreed, using her first name as a sign of peace between them. “Not with his money. He’ll keep coming at you.”
“He won’t succeed. Those working for me were helped in some way by my father and owe him allegiance. They were trained as samurai and they will not dishonor themselves.”
“If he found something to blackmail one person with, he will find another.”
Azami sent Ryland a serene smile and a small shake of her head. “The man he tried to blackmail immediately came to me and confessed what he thought was shameful. It was not and he remains fine, but had he felt he could not live with the shame, he would have ended his own life with honor. That is our code. Whitney cannot conceive of such loyalty, and that, ultimately, will be his downfall.”
Sam knew Ryland couldn’t dispute her statement. The GhostWalkers many times had said exactly the same thing. Whitney had wanted a strong unit that could operate independently under the radar, men and women completely loyal to their cause and to one another. In that, he had succeeded far more than he had ever expected.
“You have to admit, after such persistence, to get an order from Whitney’s daughter, it would be natural to think perhaps he was behind the request for a satellite,” Azami continued.
Ryland also couldn’t dispute that statement either. He would have been suspicious himself had the scenario played out that way. Whitney was a cunning opponent and he never stopped trying once he made up his mind to something.
“There’s no doubt a high-resolution satellite would give him the capability to track our children more easily,” Ryland admitted. “I can’t say that I wouldn’t have done the same thing.”
“I would do anything to keep such an instrument out of his hands,” Azami admitted.
“Why wouldn’t you come to us the moment you realized Daniel was out of his room and getting into things that might be dangerous?” Ryland asked.
Azami took another sip of tea, unhurried and composed, her mind racing as she tried to decide just how far she could safely go without endangering anyone else. It was one thing to take a chance with her own life, but she had someone in Whitney’s camp she had to protect. She set the teacup down with delicate precision and looked up at Ryland, carefully meeting his eyes.
“Your wife is Whitney’s only acknowledged daughter and she’s a scientist who carried on his work. She inherited his wealth and his laboratories. It wasn’t completely unreasonable to wonder just what she was doing with her child. When I learned she had a baby here, I was determined to see that the child was well loved and not used for experiments.”
There was no apology in her voice at all. She had done what she believed to be right—and she wanted to make it clear to everyone at the table that she would have done the exact same thing if she had to do it over. She wouldn’t aid Whitney in any way—especially not for money.
“And what did you find?” Ryland asked, his voice dropping an octave.
Sam inwardly winced. Ryland speaking low was never a good thing. Anything to do with Lily and Daniel made him extremely protective. Azami was treading on thin ground without a hint of apology.
Azami had no hesitation in answering. “I found Daniel to be a delightful, amazing child, well loved and protected by his parents and all of his ‘uncles.’ He’s very happy. You provide him with support, and stimulation, yet you give him balance so that he’s not pushing himself before he should. I couldn’t imagine better parents.”
“And yet we didn’t catch that he could teleport.”
As a father, Ryland seemed vulnerable to Azami. She hated that she caused him worry. “Well, he can’t actually teleport yet, thankfully; not more than about a foot or less,” she pointed out. “But it will be soon and he needs instruction and firm rules or he’ll have very bad accidents. I learned the hard way as I suspect Sam did. Daniel’s too young to find himself inside a wall.” She leaned toward Ryland. “Why would you think you could recognize the signs so early in him? I almost missed them and I practice daily.”
“I can work with him,” Sam offered. “I enjoy spending time with him, Rye.”
Ryland’s gaze shifted to Sam’s face. Azami could see that Ryland was definitely worried about his son attempting to teleport, and she knew he should be. It was an extremely dangerous gift, and in a child—an infant, really—the gift could be lethal.
“Thanks, Sam. Lily isn’t going to take this well. We have to strike such a balance with Daniel and we’re always guessing on how much to let him do and his ability to understand the things we try to teach him. I suspect this is going to be difficult. If his natural inclination is to teleport when he suddenly wants to sneak a cookie, we’re going to be reprimanding him constantly.”
Azami flashed a small smile. “He loves his life. He’s quite good at communicating. He already understands that he’s loved and you put down rules to keep him safe.”
“He’s a sponge,” Ryland said. “He soaks up information at a rapid rate. I have no doubt that he’ll speak multiple languages, and his motor skills are already amazing.” A small grin escaped. “I guess every parent thinks that.”