Conspiracy Game
Page 52
“We like comfort,” Ken explained. “All the amenities of home. It’s called being prepared, little sister. Better to stash a few supplies here and there then get caught with your pants down.”
Jack spread out a groundsheet and tossed a sleeping bag on it, gesturing for Briony to sit down. “Everything but the baby book. Next time, we’ll think to include things like that in all our caches, so if we lose one, we’ll have another.”
“You’ve got to be kidding.”
“He’s not,” Ken said. “He’s always got books to read. I’m a music man myself.”
She sat in the shade watching the two men set up a lethal field around the small camp. They seemed to have thought of everything. They had several small tabs to use should they need warmth, as well as supplies to eat. Mostly, she noticed, they had ammunition, guns, and explosives.
“Lay back, baby. Let me take care of that wound on your hip,” Jack instructed. He heated up water using one of the field tabs. Crouching beside her, he pushed up her shirt and indicated she shove down her jeans enough to give him room to work.
“It doesn’t hurt as bad now that we’re not running,” she told him.
“You’re covered in blood.”
“I was running. It was bound to bleed a lot. I didn’t stick anything important,” she said. “I was very careful.”
He removed the blood-soaked gauze and peered closely at the small stitches. “Not a bad job, but a little uneven. You did better on me.”
“Not a bad job?” She squeaked the words, glaring at him. “I sewed it up myself, thank you very much.”
Ken burst out laughing. “He said the same thing to me once.”
Briony winced as Jack cleaned the wound again with the hot water and antiseptic. It burned and stung enough to bring tears to her eyes. “Where were you? How’d you get hurt?”
“Afghanistan,” Ken said. “There’s a ten-thousand-foot ridge known as the Whale’s Back on the west side of a valley, and on the east the Shah-e-Kot mountains rise above, with the enemy sitting up around ten to twelve thousand feet, using everything from small arms, to mortar and heavy machine guns. The infantry was caught in the valley humping over bare ground with heavy gear and no cover. The enemy had all the advantages, sending heavy fire from very defensible positions, inflicting heavy causalities on the infantrymen.”
“When you say infantry, aren’t you talking a lot of troops?”
Ken shrugged. “I think a couple of battalions. They were chasing the resistance into the mountains in an attempt to mop up after the battle. We were sent in to provide additional defense for the troops.”
“Ow!” Briony slapped at Jack’s hand as he poured liquid over the wound. It burned even worse than the first brew he’d used.
“Stop being a baby,” Jack murmured. “You sound just like Ken.”
“I take it the situation got bad,” Briony prompted, gritting her teeth. Her side hurt worse than when she was running. The talk distracted her, and in any case, she liked catching glimpses into their world.
Jack pressed fresh gauze to the wound. “It went to hell very fast. The two battalions were taking heavy casualties and were pinned down. Six of us went in to try to clear out the enemy and get our men out of there. The enemy had them right where they wanted them.”
“How did Ken get hurt?”
“I think he has ADD,” Jack said. “He can’t stay still.”
Briony laughed, in spite of the fact that he was taping the gauze in place and the wound still burned from the double dose of disinfectant. She knew Ken could remain still for hours.
“You laugh,” Jack said, “but it’s the truth. We hooked up with the Airborne’s brigade, and the enemy was throwing everything at us but the kitchen sink. We moved up to a better vantage point and began picking them off, but as soon as we got rid of one, another would take his place. The fighting went on so long we were running low on ammunition. We’d cached our gear below and Ken decided he’d just take a little run across the bare valley and up to a ridge about another one hundred meters and collect it for us. You, know, a little stroll through the park.”
“And you sat up there and protected him while he did it,” Briony guessed.
“Hell, someone had to. He’s a maniac. He took a grenade launcher with him and made the run back and forth through heavy fire at over eleven thousand feet. The air’s pretty thin, but not only did he drag our gear and ammo back, but he took out a nest of al-Qaeda hidden in a streambed firing mortars at us. Just as he came up over the ridge, I caught the edge of tree cancer just above us and knew a sniper had set up.”
“What’s tree cancer?”
“Snipers set up, and sometimes you catch the edge of their blind. It looks like a growth on the trunk, so we refer to it as cancer.”
“Okay, I get it. So what happened after you spotted him?”
“I took out the shooter, but he got off a round and nailed Ken.”
“He failed to mention the only reason I was able to make the run and live was because he took out anyone trying to cap my ass,” Ken said.
“You do something like that again and I’ll shoot you myself.” Briony caught the rough affection and the fear for his brother swirling in Jack’s mind, but as always his voice was calm and matter-of-fact.
“I picked up a pretty medal,” Ken pointed out.
“You nearly picked it up after we buried you.” Jack soaked a cloth in the warm water and pressed it gently to Briony’s face. “Ken insisted on sewing up his wound, although he let me dig the bullet out of him.”
“Precisely why you weren’t sewing me up, you sadistic bastard. It hurt like hell.”
Jack threw him a sleeping bag. “It’s going to be a long night. I’ll take first watch while you get some sleep.”
Briony waited until Ken settled down a few yards from them before touching the tattoo on Jack’s arm. “You, Ken, and Kadan all have the same tattoos. What are they?”
Jack studied the crest on his arm and the symbol. “Only GhostWalkers wear these tattoos. This is the GhostWalker crest. The globe represents the world, which basically is our hunting ground. We’re responsible for protecting those who can’t protect themselves. The keys signify our various missions, to walk unseen in enemy camps and collect the necessary information, and the knives are, of course, a silent kill. The Latin-nox noctis est nostri-means “the night is ours,” which it is. The GhostWalkers own the night.”
“And the other one?”
“The symbols put together have meaning. The triangle signifies shadow; this is the Greek letter for psi; this is protection against evil forces; and the last is the qualities of a knight. So basically the meaning is-shadow knights protect against evil forces using psychic powers, courage, and honor. We have a creed as well. It means something to us and we live by it.”
“I like the tattoos, and I think it’s especially cool that you use ink that requires special vision to even see them.”
“You’re a GhostWalker, Briony. You’re more than entitled to wear them.”
“Well, I might just get one-after I have the babies.” She frowned. “Why did your team leave you behind in the enemy camp, Jack? You were wounded.”
“I went in to get Ken out. I told them to leave and I knew they’d come back for me. The GhostWalker team mounted two strikes against Ekabela, but I was moved before they hit the camp, both times. They were planning another attack and would have kept doing so until they either found my body or got me out alive.”
“You mean Ken would have.”
“No, I mean all of them would have, orders or not.” He grinned at her. “But Ken would have been leading the pack.”
She flashed a small answering smile. “I really like your brother. He’s a good man. He worries about it too, you know, about being like your father. He doesn’t like being around people any more than you do.”
“He’s the best man I know, Briony, and he sure as hell isn’t like our father.”
“You look at me as if I’m your equal, Jack-your partner. Luther looked at me as I was his possession. You’re nothing like your father, Jack. Nothing at all-and neither is Ken. If we don’t get out of this, I want you to know I’m not sorry for one minute I’ve been able to have with you.”
He groaned softly. “That’s a hell of thing for you to say with my brother only a few feet away.”
She laid her head on his shoulder. “It wasn’t meant to be sexual, you nut; I was being emotional.”
“Just looking at you is sexual, let alone you saying something like that.”
“Shut the hell up, Jack,” Ken said without opening his eyes. “I feel like I’m at a p**n movie. It’s just wrong.”
Briony laughed. “Are you both really going to go to sleep? Aren’t we surrounded?”
“Ken is; he should be asleep already,” Jack said. “We’ll take turns. If the troops try to move into the canyon, we’ll know. I’ll just mosey on up to the top of that ridge and discourage them. They’ll most likely wait until nightfall-just like we’re waiting.”
Briony stared up at the heavy canopy of branches and leaves. The air was cool and the last of the smoke had drifted away. They could have been out camping instead of hiding from a lethal military group. Neither man seemed stressed at all. Within a matter of minutes, she was certain Ken had actually gone to sleep.
Jack’s hand found hers, tangling their fingers together. “You always want to conserve energy if possible, baby,” he advised, bringing her hand to his mouth. His teeth nipped her finger. “You’ll learn. If you can, go to sleep.” He pulled a light blanket over her body to protect her from the colder temperatures.
“Talk to me. Tell me about you and Ken. How old were you when you lost your mother?” She didn’t want to say killed your father, but somehow the words were there between them.
“Nine. We were nine years old.”
“What happened to you?”
“They took us both to the hospital and then tried various foster homes. Sometimes they split us up, but it was never a good idea. We’d break out and each track the other down. If either of us was mistreated, there was always retaliation. We spent a lot of time on the streets. Eventually, after earning a bad reputation, no one would take us, so for a while we were in a state-run home. That didn’t work out very well either.”
“I can imagine.”
“Neither of us is very good following rules. Somewhere along the line we met Miss Judith.”
“Miss Judith?” There was a wealth of affection in Jack’s voice.
“She would come to the home as a volunteer and was the only person Ken and I would listen to. There was something about her, something very distinct and real. She genuinely wanted to help-she cared. Eventually she fostered us. We were nearly seventeen then, and twice her size, but she took us in against the advice of all the other workers. She had a ranch up in the hills and she gave us plenty of room to run free. In return, we excelled in schoolwork.” He grinned at her. “Notice I didn’t say anything about school. She took over our education and homeschooled us because no regular school wanted anything to do with us. We worked hard for her, and she gave us our first real taste of a home.”
“Is she still alive?”
Jack hesitated. “Yes. But we don’t let anyone know that. She could become… ”
Briony lifted her head and narrowed her eyes at him. “A liability?”
Jack groaned. “I’m never going to live that down, am I? And no, Miss Judith needs protection so anyone coming after us won’t be able to use our feelings for her against us. I don’t want her vulnerable.”
Jack spread out a groundsheet and tossed a sleeping bag on it, gesturing for Briony to sit down. “Everything but the baby book. Next time, we’ll think to include things like that in all our caches, so if we lose one, we’ll have another.”
“You’ve got to be kidding.”
“He’s not,” Ken said. “He’s always got books to read. I’m a music man myself.”
She sat in the shade watching the two men set up a lethal field around the small camp. They seemed to have thought of everything. They had several small tabs to use should they need warmth, as well as supplies to eat. Mostly, she noticed, they had ammunition, guns, and explosives.
“Lay back, baby. Let me take care of that wound on your hip,” Jack instructed. He heated up water using one of the field tabs. Crouching beside her, he pushed up her shirt and indicated she shove down her jeans enough to give him room to work.
“It doesn’t hurt as bad now that we’re not running,” she told him.
“You’re covered in blood.”
“I was running. It was bound to bleed a lot. I didn’t stick anything important,” she said. “I was very careful.”
He removed the blood-soaked gauze and peered closely at the small stitches. “Not a bad job, but a little uneven. You did better on me.”
“Not a bad job?” She squeaked the words, glaring at him. “I sewed it up myself, thank you very much.”
Ken burst out laughing. “He said the same thing to me once.”
Briony winced as Jack cleaned the wound again with the hot water and antiseptic. It burned and stung enough to bring tears to her eyes. “Where were you? How’d you get hurt?”
“Afghanistan,” Ken said. “There’s a ten-thousand-foot ridge known as the Whale’s Back on the west side of a valley, and on the east the Shah-e-Kot mountains rise above, with the enemy sitting up around ten to twelve thousand feet, using everything from small arms, to mortar and heavy machine guns. The infantry was caught in the valley humping over bare ground with heavy gear and no cover. The enemy had all the advantages, sending heavy fire from very defensible positions, inflicting heavy causalities on the infantrymen.”
“When you say infantry, aren’t you talking a lot of troops?”
Ken shrugged. “I think a couple of battalions. They were chasing the resistance into the mountains in an attempt to mop up after the battle. We were sent in to provide additional defense for the troops.”
“Ow!” Briony slapped at Jack’s hand as he poured liquid over the wound. It burned even worse than the first brew he’d used.
“Stop being a baby,” Jack murmured. “You sound just like Ken.”
“I take it the situation got bad,” Briony prompted, gritting her teeth. Her side hurt worse than when she was running. The talk distracted her, and in any case, she liked catching glimpses into their world.
Jack pressed fresh gauze to the wound. “It went to hell very fast. The two battalions were taking heavy casualties and were pinned down. Six of us went in to try to clear out the enemy and get our men out of there. The enemy had them right where they wanted them.”
“How did Ken get hurt?”
“I think he has ADD,” Jack said. “He can’t stay still.”
Briony laughed, in spite of the fact that he was taping the gauze in place and the wound still burned from the double dose of disinfectant. She knew Ken could remain still for hours.
“You laugh,” Jack said, “but it’s the truth. We hooked up with the Airborne’s brigade, and the enemy was throwing everything at us but the kitchen sink. We moved up to a better vantage point and began picking them off, but as soon as we got rid of one, another would take his place. The fighting went on so long we were running low on ammunition. We’d cached our gear below and Ken decided he’d just take a little run across the bare valley and up to a ridge about another one hundred meters and collect it for us. You, know, a little stroll through the park.”
“And you sat up there and protected him while he did it,” Briony guessed.
“Hell, someone had to. He’s a maniac. He took a grenade launcher with him and made the run back and forth through heavy fire at over eleven thousand feet. The air’s pretty thin, but not only did he drag our gear and ammo back, but he took out a nest of al-Qaeda hidden in a streambed firing mortars at us. Just as he came up over the ridge, I caught the edge of tree cancer just above us and knew a sniper had set up.”
“What’s tree cancer?”
“Snipers set up, and sometimes you catch the edge of their blind. It looks like a growth on the trunk, so we refer to it as cancer.”
“Okay, I get it. So what happened after you spotted him?”
“I took out the shooter, but he got off a round and nailed Ken.”
“He failed to mention the only reason I was able to make the run and live was because he took out anyone trying to cap my ass,” Ken said.
“You do something like that again and I’ll shoot you myself.” Briony caught the rough affection and the fear for his brother swirling in Jack’s mind, but as always his voice was calm and matter-of-fact.
“I picked up a pretty medal,” Ken pointed out.
“You nearly picked it up after we buried you.” Jack soaked a cloth in the warm water and pressed it gently to Briony’s face. “Ken insisted on sewing up his wound, although he let me dig the bullet out of him.”
“Precisely why you weren’t sewing me up, you sadistic bastard. It hurt like hell.”
Jack threw him a sleeping bag. “It’s going to be a long night. I’ll take first watch while you get some sleep.”
Briony waited until Ken settled down a few yards from them before touching the tattoo on Jack’s arm. “You, Ken, and Kadan all have the same tattoos. What are they?”
Jack studied the crest on his arm and the symbol. “Only GhostWalkers wear these tattoos. This is the GhostWalker crest. The globe represents the world, which basically is our hunting ground. We’re responsible for protecting those who can’t protect themselves. The keys signify our various missions, to walk unseen in enemy camps and collect the necessary information, and the knives are, of course, a silent kill. The Latin-nox noctis est nostri-means “the night is ours,” which it is. The GhostWalkers own the night.”
“And the other one?”
“The symbols put together have meaning. The triangle signifies shadow; this is the Greek letter for psi; this is protection against evil forces; and the last is the qualities of a knight. So basically the meaning is-shadow knights protect against evil forces using psychic powers, courage, and honor. We have a creed as well. It means something to us and we live by it.”
“I like the tattoos, and I think it’s especially cool that you use ink that requires special vision to even see them.”
“You’re a GhostWalker, Briony. You’re more than entitled to wear them.”
“Well, I might just get one-after I have the babies.” She frowned. “Why did your team leave you behind in the enemy camp, Jack? You were wounded.”
“I went in to get Ken out. I told them to leave and I knew they’d come back for me. The GhostWalker team mounted two strikes against Ekabela, but I was moved before they hit the camp, both times. They were planning another attack and would have kept doing so until they either found my body or got me out alive.”
“You mean Ken would have.”
“No, I mean all of them would have, orders or not.” He grinned at her. “But Ken would have been leading the pack.”
She flashed a small answering smile. “I really like your brother. He’s a good man. He worries about it too, you know, about being like your father. He doesn’t like being around people any more than you do.”
“He’s the best man I know, Briony, and he sure as hell isn’t like our father.”
“You look at me as if I’m your equal, Jack-your partner. Luther looked at me as I was his possession. You’re nothing like your father, Jack. Nothing at all-and neither is Ken. If we don’t get out of this, I want you to know I’m not sorry for one minute I’ve been able to have with you.”
He groaned softly. “That’s a hell of thing for you to say with my brother only a few feet away.”
She laid her head on his shoulder. “It wasn’t meant to be sexual, you nut; I was being emotional.”
“Just looking at you is sexual, let alone you saying something like that.”
“Shut the hell up, Jack,” Ken said without opening his eyes. “I feel like I’m at a p**n movie. It’s just wrong.”
Briony laughed. “Are you both really going to go to sleep? Aren’t we surrounded?”
“Ken is; he should be asleep already,” Jack said. “We’ll take turns. If the troops try to move into the canyon, we’ll know. I’ll just mosey on up to the top of that ridge and discourage them. They’ll most likely wait until nightfall-just like we’re waiting.”
Briony stared up at the heavy canopy of branches and leaves. The air was cool and the last of the smoke had drifted away. They could have been out camping instead of hiding from a lethal military group. Neither man seemed stressed at all. Within a matter of minutes, she was certain Ken had actually gone to sleep.
Jack’s hand found hers, tangling their fingers together. “You always want to conserve energy if possible, baby,” he advised, bringing her hand to his mouth. His teeth nipped her finger. “You’ll learn. If you can, go to sleep.” He pulled a light blanket over her body to protect her from the colder temperatures.
“Talk to me. Tell me about you and Ken. How old were you when you lost your mother?” She didn’t want to say killed your father, but somehow the words were there between them.
“Nine. We were nine years old.”
“What happened to you?”
“They took us both to the hospital and then tried various foster homes. Sometimes they split us up, but it was never a good idea. We’d break out and each track the other down. If either of us was mistreated, there was always retaliation. We spent a lot of time on the streets. Eventually, after earning a bad reputation, no one would take us, so for a while we were in a state-run home. That didn’t work out very well either.”
“I can imagine.”
“Neither of us is very good following rules. Somewhere along the line we met Miss Judith.”
“Miss Judith?” There was a wealth of affection in Jack’s voice.
“She would come to the home as a volunteer and was the only person Ken and I would listen to. There was something about her, something very distinct and real. She genuinely wanted to help-she cared. Eventually she fostered us. We were nearly seventeen then, and twice her size, but she took us in against the advice of all the other workers. She had a ranch up in the hills and she gave us plenty of room to run free. In return, we excelled in schoolwork.” He grinned at her. “Notice I didn’t say anything about school. She took over our education and homeschooled us because no regular school wanted anything to do with us. We worked hard for her, and she gave us our first real taste of a home.”
“Is she still alive?”
Jack hesitated. “Yes. But we don’t let anyone know that. She could become… ”
Briony lifted her head and narrowed her eyes at him. “A liability?”
Jack groaned. “I’m never going to live that down, am I? And no, Miss Judith needs protection so anyone coming after us won’t be able to use our feelings for her against us. I don’t want her vulnerable.”
