Samurai Game (27 page)

“Mr. Miller . . .” Azami began.

“
Captain
. Captain Miller,” Ryland corrected.

Sam ducked his head. Ryland was royally pissed. It was difficult to get the man riled, but once he was, there was very little backup in him.

“Forgive me,” Azami said in her demure tone, those long lashes lowering as she bowed her head gracefully. “This is my fault. When I was young, my father asked only a couple of things of me. He asked that I live a life of honor and that I throw hatred and anger away as useless. I hated Whitney with the passion only a child could have. My father taught me that he is a monster, yes, but my hatred of him gave him great power over me. Bringing a man like Whitney to justice is impossible, but someone has to try.”

“How?” Ryland asked. “You must have a plan.”

Azami looked around the table. “You are asking me to trust all of you when you don’t trust me.”

“You came to our home on false pretenses,” Ryland pointed out.

She shook her head, her eyes steady on his. “That is not so, Captain Miller. I insist on visiting all corporations or countries who wish to purchase one of my satellites. Our company is legitimate and I know you didn’t choose us blindly. We deliver the best in the world. There is no competition as of yet. Our lens is superior, as is our software, to any other on the market.
You
reached out to us.”

Gator placed a cup of tea in front of Azami. “I noticed you took milk in your tea earlier.”

She smiled up at him. “Thank you.”

“Can I get you anything else, ma’am . . . Azami?” Gator asked.

Sam shifted in his chair. He was happy someone was being polite to her, but of all the men, Gator was the most charming with women. He was totally enamored of his wife, but that didn’t stop women from falling for him.

Azami raised her long lashes and looked at him directly. The impact struck like an arrow straight through his heart. How did she know? How were they so connected? He wouldn’t betray his family or team, but he’d fight with every breath in his body for her. Her eyes seemed like the midnight sky, dark and yet sparkling with stars, embracing him with heat, with something very close to desire. Then her lashes came down and she was once again focusing on Gator.

“No, thank you,” Azami said politely. She took a very ladylike sip of tea and put the cup back in the saucer before she looked once more at Ryland. “It is our policy to vet everyone who wishes to purchase from us—that is well known throughout the world. Three weeks after we turned down Dr. Whitney, his daughter Lily made inquiries. Was that coincidence or was he using her to acquire our satellite another way? I think that question is very legitimate, and as a responsible company, we had to get the answer.”

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.”

Azami leaned toward him again, making up her mind. She was going to throw in with the GhostWalkers. She had no doubts about this particular unit; she’d spent the last few days spying on them. She even had tiny cameras in various locations throughout the house. Eiji and Daiki were adept at fitting the cameras in places no one would ever find them. They could walk through a room and place one in mere seconds. She just had to strike a balance to protect her informant. She wouldn’t risk his life, not even for credibility.

“You have a much bigger problem than me, Captain, or your son teleporting. We have stumbled across some information suggesting you will be getting orders to go into the Congo to assassinate General Armine, who is in a fight with Ezekial Ekabela to take over the rebel army. Ezekial’s brother, General Eudes Ekabela, was killed by a GhostWalker, and Armine took over before Ezekial could step into power. Whitney needs Armine out of the way to allow Ezekial back into power. Ezekial has control of the diamond mines and there is a particular size diamond that Whitney needs for a new weapon he’s working on. The price Ezekial Ekabela is demanding is Armine’s assassination and a GhostWalker to pay for his brother’s death. Whitney agreed to the terms. Since Jack Norton, whom the rebels are desperate to get their hands on, has twins, Whitney is giving them someone from your team.”

Azami took a breath and avoided looking at Sam. Her stomach muscles tightened, her breath refusing to leave her lungs. She didn’t want to see condemnation in his eyes. She hadn’t warned him, not even when she was kissing him, committing to him in her heart. She forced the words out. “Whitney believes that Sam is useless to his program and he’s willing to sacrifice him in exchange for the diamond.”

Sam raised his eyebrow, but didn’t say a word. Gator nudged Tucker, but one look from Ryland stopped any teasing they might have done.

“Any orders coming to us would be classified,” Ryland said, his voice dropping another octave. “And then there’s the matter of the second-generation Zenith that my wife has been working on, and no one should have even a whisper of it, let alone an actual patch.

She’d known that was coming. Azami recognized the instant suspicion and she couldn’t blame him. If he’d come to her with classified information on a team that didn’t exist to the outside world, where they were going and what was in store for them, she’d be extremely wary of just how that information had come into an outsider’s hands. She had known the moment she disclosed what she knew, Ryland would really begin his interrogation.

She kept her hands folded in her lap beneath the table. Her stomach was jittery, not because she feared these people—she knew she could kill several of them before they got to her—but because she wanted to choose each word carefully and make them understand she was on their side without taking a chance on risking lives. “Whitney has several people working for him giving and passing along information, as well as helping forward his agenda. Clearly those helping him are people in positions of power. They do his bidding. I’ve intercepted his commands to a woman named Sheila Benet. She’s his number one courier.”

Beneath the table, Sam’s fingers wrapped very gently around her wrist, cautioning her. He didn’t want her to go any further. She had eyes and ears in the war room and knew the GhostWalker unit as a whole didn’t believe the three deaths associated with Sheila Benet were accidental, and it was obvious Sam didn’t want her confessing to murder. From the moment he had recognized that someone could have used a blowgun to kill Major Patterson, she was certain he would figure out who had done so. She had known the moment she met him that he was too intelligent to fool for long and had she been able to, she wouldn’t have looked at him twice.

“The same Sheila Benet that witnessed two accidents? One in a bathroom of a night club and one in a restaurant?”

“I read about the accidents,” Azami said truthfully. Her computers certainly searched for certain names that might come up in any news article or report. “I found it interesting that she was at both accident sites.”

The pad of Sam’s thumb slid back and forth over the inside of her wrist in a caress she wasn’t certain he was aware of—yet she was all too aware. She was rarely distracted by anything, but that small movement sent a shiver of heat down her spine. She should move her wrist away from him—she couldn’t afford any distractions—but she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

“We found it equally interesting,” Ryland said. “We don’t believe either of those deaths was an accident. And there was a third—a car accident as well that is suspect.”

She didn’t blink. “I have to agree with your suspicion. With Benet involved, I am certain those people had to be in Whitney’s employ. It would be too much of a coincidence to think they both died within weeks of each other—although stranger things have happened.”

Ryland studied her face with those piercing, steel gray eyes. She couldn’t imagine his son at sixteen lying to his father. She hadn’t lied, but she was definitely omitting facts. Ryland Miller seemed to see into one’s soul.