“You don’t like it when I’m upset, do you?” she asked softly. “I’m upset on your daddy’s behalf. I did a very bad thing, and I have no way to make up for it.” She moved in silence to the window and peered out.
Her lights had been off for hours, and she knew she’d established that pattern weeks ago. No one would think it odd. She kept to herself and stayed inside after dark, never turning on lights. The neighbors probably thought she tried to save money by not using electricity, but she had excellent night vision, thanks to Whitney’s enhancements. She stared at the street for some time. Kane and the others would be setting into action their plan to rescue the hostages. She had to quit feeling guilty and sorry for herself; that did no good, and there were two people who desperately needed help. She had seen the extreme violence the cartel was capable of. They would kill the hostages no matter what el presidente did. The GhostWalkers were their only hope.
She was already in dark clothing, and with her ability to camouflage her appearance, she knew she could aid the GhostWalker team should they need it. Her telepathy wasn’t particularly strong, but Kane’s was, and she tapped into the flow, knowing how to do so from when they were together working against Whitney.
She closed her eyes, allowing her mind to expand, to reach out for the flow of energy, into the current Kane generated with his team.
Working my way into position, Mack, Kane reported.
Let’s get this done. Mack was all business, and the familiar voice settled the tight knots in Kane’s gut. There was no way to go into a mission with his brain divided. He had to push Rose out of his mind and concentrate on getting the hostages out as quietly as possible. They expected to leave dead enemies behind, but they wanted to be quiet about it. This was a take-no-prisoners mission and needed complete silence. Moving now.
Mack was a blur, no more than a shadow as he went up the side of the building, retrieving the tiny star stairs as he went up, gaining the roof. In position, he reported.
Kane and Javier managed to gain the sidewalk just outside the two-story apartment building. It was their responsibility to ensure Mack and Ethan had a clear path through the building to the desert. Gideon would protect them from the roof and then make his way along the rooftops to the edge of the desert.
Kane waited, counting his heartbeats while loud voices boomed through the entryway to the apartments and then slowly—too slowly—faded. He bounced pressure waves through the walls. The entryway was empty, but there was a man two stairs up, just leaning against the wall.
On the right, he told Javier.
Javier was smaller, a lean killing machine, and his shadow would be less noticeable. The sentry would feel the draft and look up, but he’d be too late. Kane, knife in one hand, ready for the throw, opened the door with the other. Javier somersaulted in, coming to his feet just a scant distance from the stairs, his knife hurtling through the air to bury the blade in the sentry’s throat.
Kane slipped into the foyer, right behind Javier, allowing the sentry to catch a brief glimpse of him, just enough to distract him from the real threat. As Javier threw the knife, a second guard emerged from a room just to their left. Kane was on him, one hand muffling sound as the other delivered the killing blow with the blade. He shoved the body back in the room, and Javier added the second one. Neither bothered to do anything about the blood spatter. There was old blood on the floors and walls, some very recent, as if the apartments were used to violence.
We’re in, it’s a go, Kane said as he and Javier started up the stairs, taking care to feel each individual step for sound before they placed their feet.
Mack signaled Ethan, and Ethan slipped over the side of the building, making his way to the window, leaving behind the stars for Mack to use. There were no ropes, and no one would ever think they could climb up or down the two-story structure.
Guard on the balcony, Mack, Ethan cautioned suddenly. I can smell his cigarette smoke.
Rose stepped out of her apartment to get a better look. She could see the guard on the balcony clearly; he was smoking a cigarette and staring down at the street. It took her a long time, even with her night vision, to spot the man clinging like a spider to the side of the building. Her heart leapt.
He’s directly in line with you. All he has to do is look up once he turns.
There was a moment of silence as each member of the team realized Rose had tapped into their communication through Kane.
Talk to us, Mack made the decision, trusting Kane’s judgment that she was on their side.
Ethan moved with infinite slowness, inch by slow inch, turning upside down right there on the side of the building. He hung with his head down, clinging to the side with his toes and one hand while he, with that same agonizing slowness, took his knife from between his teeth, transferring it to his one free hand. There in the dark he looked like a giant spider, looming over unsuspecting prey.
Mack had already started down the stars Ethan had lodged in the building, retrieving them as he descended. Now he hovered above Ethan, a dark shadow completely motionless, just waiting.
Rose kept her gaze glued on the guard. He used his fingertips to crush the glowing tip and snapped it over the narrow balcony to the street below. He’s turning.
I’ve got him now, Ethan reassured, his voice absolutely calm.
Rose watched, one hand protectively over her baby and the other around the hilt of her knife. They wanted silence. She couldn’t use a gun, but ...
The guard turned and took a step, a single fatal step. He never saw Ethan as he dropped down just like a spider, driving the point of his knife deep. He kept his grip on the guard, easing him to the balcony floor in silence. Mack joined him, shoving the throwing stars into the loops on his inside vest. Ethan stepped back, and Mack took the lead.
The balcony door was open. Inside the room, the television blared loudly. Two chairs, back to back, held the woman and a little girl of ten. They were tied, hands and feet. Both had gags in their mouths. The little girl’s head swung toward them as they stepped silently into the room. Her eyes went wide with shock when she realized the shadows were large men coming out of the night at her. The mother didn’t move, her head hanging as if she wasn’t conscious.
Mack put a finger to his lips and shook his head. The little girl froze. There were tears swimming in her eyes. Ethan crossed to the mother, crouching down beside her. Both eyes were swollen closed. She had cuts on her mouth and chin and bruising around her neck. Her dress was torn in several places, and there was evidence of bruising beneath the garment.