Conspiracy Game
Christine Feehan
Praise for
NIGHT GAME
"Suspenseful...captivating."
--Publishers Weekly
"I've enjoyed all of Christine Feehan's series...but I gotta tell you--Night Game tops them all! A Perfect 10."
--Romance Reviews Today
"[A] wild, action-packed...satisfyingly sexy romance."
--Booklist
"Terrific...action-packed...haunting."
--Midwest Book Review
"Quirky and intriguing."
--The Eternal Night
"A magnificent story...will keep your eyes glued to the pages from the beginning to end."
--The Romance Reader's Connection "Night Game is irresistible."
--A Romance Review
MIND GAME
"Sultry and suspenseful...as swift-moving and sexually charged as her best vampire romances. In short, it is an electrifying read, one that should satisfy her fans and cement her reputation as the reigning queen of the paranormal romance."
--Publishers Weekly
"Once again, [Feehan] makes the unbelievable seem possible."
--The Eternal Night
"Brilliant. The sexual energy...is electrifying. If you enjoy paranormal romances, this is a must read."
--Romance at Heart
SHADOW GAME
"Having fast made a name for herself in the vampire romance realm, Feehan now turns her attention to other supernatural powers in this swift, sensational offering...The sultry, spine-tingling kind of read that [Feehan's] fans will adore."
--Publishers Weekly
"One of the best current voices in the darker paranormal romance subgenre...intense, sensual, and mesmerizing and might appeal especially to fans of futuristic romances. Known for her vampire tales, Feehan is a rising star in paranormal romance."
--Library Journal
"Sizzling sex scenes both physical and telepathic pave the road to true love...Action, suspense, and smart characters make this erotically charged romance an entertaining read."
--Booklist
"Feehan packs such a punch...it will leave one gasping for breath...[She] wields the suspense blade with ease, keeping readers enthralled and teetering on the edge...Guaranteed not to disappoint, and will leave one begging for more. A must-read book, only cementing Ms. Feehan's position as a genre favorite for yet another round."
--The Best Reviews
...and more praise for the novels of
Christine Feehan
"Just as I begin to think the romance genre has nowhere else to run, I get to read something that takes another giant leap down a totally unknown road. Romance, suspense, and intrigue, and the paranormal...combined to make one of the most delicious journeys I have had the pleasure of taking in a long, long time...Definitely something for everyone."
--Romance and Friends
"Feehan's newest is a skillful blend of supernatural thrills and romance that is sure to entice readers."
--Publishers Weekly
"If you are looking for something that is fun and different, pick up a copy of this book."
--All About Romance
"This one is a keeper...I had a hard time putting [it] down...Don't miss this book!"
--New-Age Bookshelf
"The characters and twists in this book held me on the edge of my seat the whole time. If you've enjoyed Ms. Feehan's previous novels, you will surely be captivated by this...Once again, Ms. Feehan does not disappoint."
--Under the Covers
Titles by Christine Feehan
CONSPIRACY GAME
NIGHT GAME
MIND GAME
SHADOW GAME
DANGEROUS TIDES
OCEANS OF FIRE
WILD RAIN
DARK DEMON
DARK SECRET
DARK DESTINY
DARK MELODY
DARK SYMPHONY
DARK GUARDIAN
DARK LEGEND
DARK FIRE
DARK CHALLENGE
DARK MAGIC
DARK GOLD
DARK DESIRE
DARK PRINCE
CONSPIRACY GAME
CHRISTINE FEEHAN
JOVE BOOKS, NEW YORK
THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP
Published by the Penguin Group
Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.) Penguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England Penguin Group Ireland, 25 St. Stephen's Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd.) Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty. Ltd.) Penguin Books India Pvt. Ltd., 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi--110 017, India Penguin Group (NZ), Cnr. Airborne and Rosedale Roads, Albany, Auckland 1310, New Zealand (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd.) Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty.) Ltd., 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa
Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
CONSPIRACY GAME
A Jove Book / published by arrangement with the author
Copyright (c) 2006 by Christine Feehan.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
For information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group, a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.
ISBN: 1-101-14690-7
JOVE(r)
Jove Books are published by the Berkley Publishing Group,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.
JOVE is a registered trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
The "J" design is a trademark belonging to Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
For Cindy Hwang and Steve Axelrod,
who believed in me enough to take a chance
on the Game books--thank you.
Contents
For My Readers
Acknowledgments
The GhostWalker Symbol Details
The GhostWalker Creed
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
For My Readers
Be sure to write to Christine at [email protected] to get a FREE exclusive screen saver and join the PRIVATE e-mail list to receive an announcement when Christine's books are released.
Acknowledgments
I want to thank Domini Stottsberry for her help in the tremendous amount of research necessary to make this book possible. Brian Feehan and Morey Sparks deserve much gratitude for sittin
g up nights discussing military tactics, and I'd be remiss in not mentioning my husband, Richard, who must sit with endless patience as I describe action scenes and insist on his input! As always, Cheryl, you are incredible!
The GhostWalker Symbol Details
SIGNIFIES
shadow
SIGNIFIES
protection against evil forces
SIGNIFIES
the Greek letter psi, which is used by parapsychology researchers to signify ESP or other psychic abilities
SIGNIFIES
qualities of a knight--loyalty, generosity, courage, and honor
SIGNIFIES
shadow knights who protect against evil forces using psychic powers, courage, and honor
The GhostWalker Creed
We are the GhostWalkers, we live in the shadows The sea, the earth, and the air are our domain No fallen comrade will be left behind
We are loyalty and honor bound
We are invisible to our enemies
and we destroy them where we find them
We believe in justice and we protect our country and those unable to protect themselves
What goes unseen, unheard, and unknown
are GhostWalkers
There is honor in the shadows and it is us We move in complete silence whether
in jungle or desert
We walk among our enemy unseen and unheard Striking without sound and scatter to the winds before they have knowledge of our existence We gather information and wait with endless patience for that perfect moment to deliver swift justice We are both merciful and merciless
We are relentless and implacable in our resolve We are the GhostWalkers and the night is ours
CHAPTER 1
Night fell fast in the jungle. Sitting in the middle of the enemy camp, surrounded by rebels, Jack Norton kept his head down, eyes closed, listening to the sounds coming out of the rain forest as he took stock of his situation. With his enhanced senses he could smell the enemy close to him, and even farther away, hidden in the dense, lush vegetation. He was fairly certain this was a satellite camp, one of many deep in the jungles of the Democratic Republic of the Congo, somewhere west of Kinshasa.
He opened his eyes to narrow slits to look around him, to plan out each step of his escape, but even that tiny movement sent pain shooting through his skull. The agony from the last beating was nearly shattering, but he didn't dare lose consciousness. They would kill him next time, and next time was coming much quicker than he had anticipated. If he didn't find a way out soon, all the physical and psychic enhancements in the world wouldn't save him.
The rebels had every right to be angry with him. Jack's twin brother, Ken, and his paramilitary GhostWalker team had successfully extracted the rebels' first truly valuable American political prisoners. A United States senator had been captured while traveling with a scientist and his aides. The GhostWalkers had come in with deadly precision, rescued the senator, the scientist, and his two aides along with the pilot, and left the camp in shambles. Ken had been captured and the rebels had had a field day torturing him. Jack had no choice but to go in after his brother.
The rebels weren't any happier with Jack for depriving them of their prisoner then they had been with Ken. Jack had laid down the covering fire as the GhostWalkers were extracting Ken and had taken a hit. The wound wasn't critical--he'd been testing his leg and it wasn't broken--but the bullet had driven his leg out from under him on impact. He'd waved his team off and resigned himself to the same torture his brother had endured--one more thing they shared as they had in their younger days.
The first beating hadn't been so bad--before Major Biyoya showed up. They'd kicked and punched him, stomping on his wounded leg a couple of times, but for the most part, they'd refrained from torturing him, waiting to find out what General Ekabela had in mind. The general had sent Biyoya.
The majority of the rebels were military trained, and many had at one time been of high rank in the government or military, until one of the many coups, and now they were growing marijuana and wreaking havoc, raiding smaller towns and killing everyone who dared to oppose them or had the farms or land the rebels wanted. No one dared cross into their territory without permission. They were skilled with weapons and in guerrilla warfare--and they liked to torture and kill. They had a taste for it now, and the power drove them to continue. Even the UN avoided the area--if they did try to bring medicine and supplies to the villages, the rebels robbed them.
Jack opened his eyes enough to look down at his bare chest where Major Keon Biyoya had carved his name. Blood dripped, and flies and other biting insects congregated for the feast. It wasn't the worst of the tortures by any means, or the most humiliating. He had endured it stoically, removing himself from the pain as he had all of his life, but the fire of retribution burned in his belly.
Rage ran cold and deep, like a turbulent river hidden beneath the calm surface of his expressionless face. The dangerous emotion poured through his body and flooded his veins, building his adrenaline and strength. He deliberately fed it, recounting every detail of the last interrogation session with Biyoya. The cigarette burns, small circles marring his chest and shoulders. The whip marks that had peeled the skin from his back. Biyoya had taken his time carving his name deep, and when Jack made no sound, he'd hooked up battery cables to shock him--and that had been only the beginning of several hours at the hands of a twisted madman. The precise, almost surgical, two-inch cuts covering nearly every inch of his body were identical to what this man had done to his brother--and with each slice, Jack felt his brother's pain, when he could push away his own.
Jack tasted the rage in his mouth. With infinite slowness, he eased his hands to the seam of his camouflage pants, fingertips seeking the minute end of the thin wire sewn there. He began to draw it out with a smooth, practiced motion, his brain working all the while with icy precision, calculating distances to weapons, planning each step to get him into the foliage of the jungle. Once there, he was certain of his ability to elude his captors, but he first had to cover bare ground and get through a dozen trained soldiers. The one and only thing he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, was that Major Keon Biyoya was a walking dead man.
Two soldiers tramped through the camp toward him. Jack felt the coil inside of him winding tighter and tighter. It was now or never. His hands were tied in front of him, but his captors had been careless, leaving his feet free after the last torture session, believing him incapacitated. Biyoya had smashed the butt of a rifle into the wound on his leg several times, angry that Jack had given no response. Jack had learned at a very young age never to make a sound, to go somewhere far away in his head and separate mind from body, but men like Biyoya couldn't conceive of that possibility. Some men didn't, couldn't break, even with drugs in their system and pain wracking their bodies.
A hand bunched in Jack's hair and yanked hard to bring his head up. Ice-cold water splashed in his face, ran down his chest into the wounds. The second soldier rubbed a paste of salt and burning leaves into the wounds as both laughed.
"Major wants his name to show up nice and pretty," one said tauntingly in his native tongue. He leaned down to peer into Jack's eyes.
He must have seen death there--the cold rage and icy determination. He gasped, but was a heartbeat too slow in trying to jerk away. Jack moved fast, a speeding blur of his hands as he looped thin wire around the rebel's neck, dragging him backward off balance, using him as a shield as the other soldier jerked up his gun and fired. The bullet slammed into the first rebel and drove Jack back.
Chaos erupted in the camp, men scattering for cover and firing toward the jungle, confused as to where the shooting was coming from. Jack had only seconds to make his way to cover. Pulling a knife from the waistband of the rebel, he stabbed the dying soldier in the lung and turned the blade to the ropes binding him, still holding the soldier as a shield. Jack threw the knife with deadly accuracy, drilling the rebel with the gun through the throat. Dropping the dead bod
y, Jack ran.
He zigzagged his way across the open ground, kicking logs out of the fire pit, sending them scattering in all directions, deliberately running through the soldiers so that anyone firing at him would chance hitting one of their own. He ran at one soldier, slamming his fist into the man's throat with one hand and relieving him of his weapon with the other. He leapt over the body and kept running, ducking into a group of five men scrambling to their feet. Jack kicked one in the knee, dropping him hard, wrenching the machete from his hand and delivering a killing blow before whirling through the other four, slicing with an expertise born of long experience and sheer desperation.
Shouts and bullets rang through the jungle so that birds rose from the treetops, screeching into the air. Screams of the wounded mingled with the desperate sounds of angry leaders shouting to establish order. A soldier rose up in front of Jack, sweeping the area with an assault rifle. Jack hit the ground and somersaulted, lashing out with his foot, taking the man to the ground, ripping the rifle out of his hands, and using his enhanced strength, delivering a killing blow with the butt of the gun. He slung the weapons around his neck to leave his hands free and snagged a long knife and another rifle as he raced toward the cover of the jungle. The soldier had inadvertently provided him with covering fire, shooting several of his fellow rebels.
Jack dove for the thickest foliage nearest him, somersaulting into the leafy ferns, and ran at a low crouch along the narrow trail made by some small animal. Bullets rained around him, one or two coming too close for comfort. He kept moving fast into deeper jungle where the light barely penetrated the thick canopy. He was a GhostWalker and the shadows welcomed him.
The rain forest was made up of several layers. At the emergent level, trees grew as high as two hundred and seventy feet. The canopy was about sixty to ninety feet above him, where most of the birds and wildlife resided. Mosses, lichen, and orchids covered the trunks and branches. Snakelike vines dropped like tentacles. Palms, philodendrons, and ferns reached out with large leaves to provide even more cover. The understory saw very little sunlight and was dark and humid--perfect for what he needed.
