Samurai Game

by Christine Feehan

  "So egos, then. We know Whitney has a massive ego." Sam said.

  "You have someone providing you with good intel," Ryland said. "Are you absolutely certain you can trust him? Or her?"

  Azami looked at him with cool eyes. If he was fishing, she wasn't biting. "Yes. Absolutely."

  "You have no objections to Sam asking permission to marry you?" Ryland asked, suddenly changing the subject.

  Sam swore under his breath at that deceptively mild tone. Ryland wasn't finished.

  Azami lowered her lashes so that they feathered across her high cheekbones like twin fans. "It is the custom in my family and a matter of respect."

  "Before you go that far, Sam," Ryland continued, "perhaps Azami might explain how she came to know about second-generation Zenith and how she came to have those patches."

  Her heart rate jumped. She didn't so much as blink, but the pad of his finger was over her pulse, and Sam felt that jump.

  "I told you, I have an informant. The work was stolen, but I don't know how they got it. I checked your wife's computer myself and then had Daiki recheck it. That computer is clean, but Whitney has her work. He bragged to some of his researchers how smart his daughter is."

  "He has Lily's work on Zenith?" Ryland pounced on that. "She only puts research notes on her personal computer. How the hell did Whitney get into her computer without any of us knowing?" He glared at Gator. "I thought Flame put alarms or something on her computer for this very reason."

  Gator shrugged. "You'll have to talk to my wife about that, Rye, not me. I don' know a thin' about computers. She talks a foreign language when she gets goin'."

  "If Whitney has found a way to get into our computers again . . ." Ryland trailed off.

  "We sweep the computers before we install software, and Daiki has written an excellent virus and Trojan protector program we install routinely with the software. I'm telling you, her computer is absolutely clean. He didn't get her work from here," Azami said. "Someone else has her work or you have a traitor here."

  Ryland sighed and swept both hands through his hair, clearly wondering how Whitney had managed to get his hands on Lily's research. As far as he knew, the only other person they'd shared with was their boss, General Ranier.

  "So your informant told you about Lily's discovery," Ryland prompted, giving up, for the moment, trying to figure out the modern technology warfare. "How did you get it?"

  "I took it from his computer, of course," Azami admitted. "Crossing computer swords with Daiki will get one cut down. Whitney sent us an inquiry about purchasing the satellite and in the email, there was a very clever virus, one that without Daiki's new software program, we probably wouldn't have been able to detect. To Daiki, that was a declaration of war. We replied and were in his computer just like that."

  "Does Whitney know?"

  "He might eventually, but he won't be able to trace it back to us." She shrugged. "He's got a brilliant mind, that brother of mine, and he can come up with incredible ways to protect our systems that would take years to unravel."

  "So what did you do with my wife's research?"

  "No one else has seen it. I took the formula from Whitney's computer and ran it through my labs myself. It showed great promise, so when I was certain she believed she had the kinks worked out, I tested it on myself of course."

  Sam's breath caught in his throat. The first generation Zenith killed the user unless they were given the antidote within a matter of hours. You should never have taken such a chance. It was impossible to remain silent. He allowed his anger to pour into her mind.

  Those dark, exotic eyes shifted to his face. Melted. Turned hot. Not with answering anger but with desire. Everything inside him shifted to let her in. She didn't change expression when she looked at him, only there in her eyes, but she didn't need to. He felt her, flowing into his mind, filling him up, wrapping herself tightly around his mind and heart.

  He wanted her. Not just that all-consuming urgent lust pounding in his blood, but with something softer and deeper and much more intense than the physical passion making such harsh demands on his body. He could hear his blood thundering in his ears and roaring through his veins, filling his cock so that he pulsed with need, but still, that hot, bright passion flowed with sheer tenderness he hadn't known even existed in him until Azami had come along.

  "You tested an unknown drug on yourself, knowing the first generation could kill the user?" Ryland sounded almost as outraged as Sam had been.

  "I do not ask others to do what I wouldn't," Azami said. "I studied the first drug's compound as well as your wife's version. I spent months going over the data. Your wife definitely felt she'd made a breakthrough and everything that Whitney had on his computer regarding her work was first class. Her notes are detailed and easy to follow, where his are cryptic and difficult. He encodes everything. The man is paranoid."

  "Don't try to lead me off the subject. That was sheer lunacy testing an unknown drug on yourself and you damn well know it."

  She leaned toward Ryland. "Fortunately, I don't have anyone else to answer to," she replied mildly, letting him know she wasn't under his command.

  "Your brothers didn't object?"

  "We don't boss one another. I told them what I was doing and what to do if anything should go wrong. They didn't like it any more than you did, but the second-generation Zenith proved to be a miracle drug when one needs it."

  "You own a satellite company; why would you need a drug like Zenith?" Ryland asked. Sam very carefully slid his thumb across her inner wrist in a caress, warning her at the same time. Ryland was no one's dummy. His carefully worded questions were designed to trip her up, casually asked or not.

  "We go into dangerous countries and often must protect ourselves. Other governments use different methods to get what they want--and they want my brother's software and the high-resolution satellite with Eiji's lens. Our work is very unpredictable, especially if we decide against selling to a corporation or country who believes they have a right to our equipment."

  Sam was astonished at her absolute composure. He knew he shouldn't be; she'd shown nerves of steel during the fight in the forest, and from the moment Ryland had begun interrogating her, she had been poised and collected. She even flashed her serene smile at Ryland, as if he wasn't quite bright and he should have figured out the answer without bothering her with such an obvious question.

  "You always act as your brother's bodyguard?" Ryland asked.

  "Yes. Eiji insists as well, although, like Daiki, he's far too valuable to the company. I like to think I'm as important as my two partners, but sadly, I don't contribute the way they do. I'm the most expendable."

  Sam's fingers tightened around her wrist in protest. Her tone told him she was telling him the absolute truth as she saw it.

  "Our company is small, but the people working for us are ours. They depend on us for their livelihood. That means Daiki and Eiji must continue to keep moving us forward. Both are innovative and they have amazing ideas for the future."

  Ryland leaned back in his seat and regarded her steadily. "How do you know that your people can be trusted? You believe in them, I can see that, but it would be impossible to ensure that more than a tight circle of people would be loyal."

  Azami shook her head. "None of my people would betray us. I would trust them with my life."

  "Would you trust them with your brother's lives?"

  For the first time she hesitated. "I don't trust anyone with the lives of my brothers," she whispered. "They are all I have."

  Sam felt rather than heard that uncertain note in her voice--Thorn's voice. The child who had been so carelessly thrown away by Whitney.

  That is no longer the truth. You have me whether or not you have accepted me. I will always come for you, honey. I will be your family. Sam found it strange that things he'd never say out loud, he was perfectly fine with sending into her mind. There was an intimacy that transcended embarrassment when sharing the same mind. I mean what
I say, Azami. You will always be able to count on me.

  Sure, it was too fast. He knew Ryland was trying to keep him from falling, tumbling off a high cliff into a deep abyss, but Sam had already willingly stepped off the cliff and he had no desire to go back. She was worth the fall. If, in the end, she couldn't make that commitment to him and she shattered his heart--well, he knew the cost before he'd made the jump.

  Azami shook her head. Even that slight movement was graceful, all that silky hair sliding around her like a halo while long strands fell artfully down the back of her slender neck.

  Ryland sighed loudly. "This is getting us nowhere. No orders have come down to the effect of our unit--and specifically Sam--heading to the Congo. The general gives me leeway to pick my own team best suited for a mission. I know their specific psychic skills. We no longer document when a skill shows itself. Lily develops exercises to strengthen them and as a team we practice drills, but even the general doesn't have specific knowledge of what we do. It would be extremely unusual for the general to order an individual into the field. Especially . . ." He broke off.

  "Sam," Azami finished for him. "I'm aware that the general was responsible for Sam's education."

  "He gave me a home just as your father gave you one," Sam clarified.

  She pressed her lips together and ducked her head, her mind closing off to him abruptly. Sam glanced at her sharply. There was something wrong, something she wasn't willing to share with him. Azami had been honest with him almost from the beginning.

  "Our orders don't work like that," Ryland reaffirmed. "I pick my own team."

  "It is easy enough to wait and see just how the orders come in," Azami murmured.

  Ryland glanced around the table at his men. "Have any of you heard that Senator Freeman died? Or that his life support was pulled?"

  "You'll hear it soon," Azami assured, her voice confident. "They'll put a great spin on it, one sure to gain the grieving widow the most sympathy possible. If Whitney's grooming her for the White House, you can bet he'll use his friends and those who owe him to position her for election. That has to be his plan. He wants that kind of power."

  "He wants to continue his experiments in peace," Ryland said. "He doesn't give a damn about the White House."

  Kadan suddenly leaned back in his chair, the creaking of the chair drawing Ryland's attention. He had remained quiet, as they all had throughout the interrogation. Kadan rarely spoke, but when he did, everyone--including Ryland--listened. "She's right, Rye; we know he was grooming Senator Freeman for the presidency. He threw money and his friends behind the man and gave up one of his gifted women in order to control the man. He wants the military backing. In a way, it would be good for us, because whoever our enemy in the White House is at present--and remember, Violet had thrown in with them--wants us out. Whitney having a friend there ensures we don't get sent on suicide missions."

  Azami stirred, but Sam gently tightened his fingers.

  "Whitney has to be stopped," Kadan added. "He's out of control. Any man willing to do the kind of experiments he does on human beings is a butcher. He's lost all contact with reality and humanity. If he pairs up with Violet, we're in real trouble."

  "I think it's happened," Azami said. "According to my informant, she went into that hangar cold and distant and came out flirtatious and animated with Whitney. I've studied the woman. She despised Whitney and all he did. She saw Freeman as a way out of the GhostWalkers and she took it and protected her husband as best she could. She tried to move heaven and earth to keep him alive and find a way to bring him back. The last thing she would want to do was to crawl in bed with Whitney again, yet there's no doubt, that's exactly what happened."

  "Figuratively," Ryland said. "I don't think he likes females or males."

  "But he'd sleep with Violet if that cemented the relationship and gave him power over her," Kadan pointed out. "Rye, as much as I hate to admit it, I think Azami is right about this. It's what Whitney would do."

  Ryland rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Seriously, we had enough problems when Violet and Whitney were opposed to one another. If they get together, we're in for a rough ride."

  "And what about the men who shot me?" Sam wanted to know. "Did Whitney send them after all?"

  Kadan sighed. "That gets a little complicated, Sam. I don't believe they were after you. I think, again, Azami was correct when she said they were after her brothers." He drummed his fingers on the table. "The Iranian soldiers came in via Mexico. The word we got was they were led into the United States through the drug tunnels the cartel has. These tunnels are elaborate and even heated in places. The mercenaries acquired the helicopters and Jeeps. The soldiers were taken to small planes and we tracked them to a small private airport."

  "The cartel was used before," Azami said, "in an assassination plot against the Saudi ambassador to the U.S. Is there some faction in Iran working with the cartel and now they're making a grab for Daiki and Eiji?"

  "I doubt if it's some faction," Kadan said. "But anything's possible. At least we know how they got in to the country and how they got out again."

  "It isn't the first time the cartel has been in bed with Iran," Ryland said. "There are rumors that they're training the cartel's hit squads in terrorist tactics, but so far we don't have anything concrete on that."

  Azami smiled. "A high-resolution satellite would change that for you. I've got pictures of camps."

  Ryland leaned toward her. "Have you shared that information with anyone?"

  "Who would I share it with? I have a mission, and that's to try to cut Whitney off from those who enable him in his brutal experiments."

  "How do you plan to go about doing that?" Ryland asked, his tone almost gentle.

  Again, Sam tightened his fingers around Azami's in warning, although he shouldn't have worried. She shrugged her slender shoulders. "There is no clear path," she said, her statement as much of an enigma as she appeared to be. "But I will find one."

  Kadan burst out laughing. "You're not going to get anything out of that woman, Rye, so short of torturing her, you may as well throw in the towel. She beat you at your own game."

  Azami continued to look innocent as if she had no idea why all the men were smirking.

  "If we're finished here," Sam said. "I have to go talk to Azami's brothers."

  "Tonight?" Ryland asked. "Sam, you need rest."

  "That's all I've been doing lately and I'm asking before she changes her mind."

  Ryland looked straight into Azami's eyes. "Do you plan on changing your mind?"

  "That is to be seen, isn't it?" she said softly. "If we're done here, I must return to my room and rest for a little while."

  "Will your brothers be awake?" Sam asked.

  She smiled her mysterious smile. "Of course, they would not sleep while I am being asked questions by Captain Miller. They are as protective of me as I am them."

  Sam's head came up. They've been listening this entire time?

  Do you think they would leave me unprotected? Had your captain deemed me dangerous and attempted to arrest me, we would have fought our way to freedom, or died trying. Her eyes met his. Be very certain I am the kind of woman you wish to spend your life with.

  Sam looked into those dark, liquid eyes. She possessed a kind of magic no other woman held for him. You're exactly the kind of woman I want. Don't think you're getting out of this by trying to warn me off.

  Her mouth turned up at the corners, a soft smile meant only for him, and then she very gracefully rose from the table, gave a slight bow to Ryland and the others, and slipped from the war room without a whisper of movement.

  "Holy cow, Sam." Gator fanned himself. "You're goin' to be in more trouble than I am if you marry that girl."

  "Do you have any idea what you're getting yourself into?" Ryland demanded. "She gives nothing away. She doesn't show emotion at all. How can you know she feels the same way about you? Feels anything at all for you? Because I didn't see it."

  "Pu
blic displays of affection are against her nature," Sam said. "Believe me, she feels."

  "What's not to like, Rye?" Kyle demanded. "She's beautiful, exotic, and wealthy."

  "How's it going to work, Knight?" Ryland asked Sam, ignoring Kyle. "She owns a company in Japan. Her family is there. You're a soldier, sworn to protect your country. You're a GhostWalker, and you damn well belong here--with us. Do you really think she'll be happy living up in the mountains? It snows here and we can barely make it out. We have money to make life a little easier, yes, but she's used to a different way of life altogether."

  "Is she?" Sam asked. He pushed himself to his feet, wanting to end the discussion. He'd already considered everything Ryland was telling him and he didn't want to go over it again. What did a soldier have to give a woman like Azami? Why had she even looked at him twice?

  "I'm not finished. Do me the courtesy of listening, since you can't obey a damn order," Ryland snapped.

  Sam tightened his jaw, but dropped back into his chair. He'd been lucky that Ryland had backed off from the order. He rubbed his jaw, regarding his friend carefully. "I'm in love with her, Rye. I know all the objections. Do you think I haven't thought of all of them myself? Yes, it happened too fast. I've been in her mind. I know what she's like . . ."

  "You know what she wants you to know. All of us have the ability to open up or close off and without a doubt, she's that good." Ryland sighed and got up to pace across the floor, picked up a mug, and poured hot coffee into it. "You and I both know she took Whitney's pipeline out. She assassinated three people."

  Sam shrugged, careful now, on shifting, dangerous ground. "Maybe. I've assassinated a hell of a lot more than that. I don't exactly have room to throw stones. None of us do."

  He studied Ryland's face. They were more than friends. They'd gone to battle together and watched each other's back. They had complete trust in each other. Ryland was concerned for him, that much was obvious, and Sam couldn't blame him. It wasn't that Ryland didn't want to see him happy; hell, he hadn't known he was unhappy. He'd been just fine until Azami had come along. No wonder Rye thought he was crazy.