Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 140965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 705(@200wpm)___ 564(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 705(@200wpm)___ 564(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
Shylah looked puzzled, throwing Draden a look that told him she’d nearly asked what Joe meant.
No problem. We wouldn’t mind a change of clothes and visiting with the man who worked to save our lives.
Don’t give that egotistical maniac any credit. I told him you fought the virus off, he had nothing to do with it.
Draden nearly committed the ultimate sin of telepathy—he almost burst out laughing. Trap was an egotistical maniac, but he always came through.
“That son of a bitch Whitney did it, didn’t he?” Draden demanded after he’d greeted his fellow GhostWalkers. Trap and Wyatt looked as if they might fall on their faces. The lab was already being broken down and all evidence of the hemorrhagic virus and the antibodies produced in Draden’s and Shylah’s blood was long gone from Indonesia, flown to the United States along with the computer containing the three scientists’ work.
“He did,” Trap said tiredly. “We just have to be happy knowing we saved the two of you.”
Shylah’s lips quirked, remembering that Joe had said they’d fought the virus off alone and Trap hadn’t saved them.
“You happy?” Draden demanded.
“It does overshadow the effects of success when we know we were maneuvered into doing exactly what that bastard wanted.”
“I detest that Whitney managed to get the vaccine, which is probably what he was looking to do all along,” Wyatt agreed. “It wasn’t hard to figure out that his three little puppets developed a hemorrhagic virus at his command after figuring out that Shylah’s immune system was so strong that she could fight off anything. He wanted a vaccine. Now he’s got the biological weapon he was looking for.”
“Wait.” Shylah frowned at them. “Whitney’s not in good standing with the government. He’s in hiding. He couldn’t have really orchestrated all of this. He doesn’t have that kind of power outside his compounds—does he?” She looked to Draden expectantly.
“Of course he orchestrated this,” Trap said. “Whitney has a lot of friends who believe in what he’s doing. He creates supersoldiers for cannon fodder and GhostWalkers to send in to do what no one else can do.”
Trap sounded as tired as he looked. He was swaying with weariness, his skin color nearly gray, alarming Draden. He glanced at Gino, Diego and Wyatt. They all shrugged. There was no stopping Trap, and he’d been determined that he wasn’t going to lose Shylah or Draden.
“Thanks again, Trap. I know you haven’t gotten much sleep, but the fact that you hung in there with me means the world.”
Emotion moved on Trap’s face and centered in his eyes. He blinked, and it was gone. “It’s not like I have a lot of friends, Draden. Not losing even one of them.” Trap ran both hands through his hair. “I’m going home and getting my woman. She’s pissed at me, and I don’t like her upset.”
“You don’t like her being away from you,” Draden pointed out.
“We’re all going home,” Gino stated. “They were good to us here and happy that we helped break the MSS. Some of us are going into Palembang for a celebration before we take off. Trap will have the jet on standby for us.”
“Nice,” Draden said. He didn’t commit to a celebration. Clearly, the team thought someone was listening in on their conversation.
At this point, anyone could be an enemy. Whitney certainly; now that he had what he wanted, he didn’t really need Shylah back, despite what a valuable asset she’d been. The Indonesians? Not enemies, but they probably wanted a pint or two of blood from either Shylah or Draden. The WHO, the CDC, every health organization around the world would be very interested in blood from the two survivors—the only known survivors.
Joe slipped into the room and nodded. They were ready to escape into the city so Shylah could do her thing and find the creators of the virus.
A port city on the Musi River, Palembang was not only the oldest municipality in Sumatra, it was also was the second largest. The river was spanned by the Ampera Bridge. Currently painted red, the vertical lift bridge was a landmark of the city, connecting two regions of Palembang. No longer opening for ships to pass, the bridge now overlooked the floating markets and lines of houses built on stilts lining the river.
Draden shadowed Shylah through the streets as she maneuvered her way easily through the tourist areas to get to the heart of the city where the locals lived, worked and played. He could barely take his eyes off of her as she threaded her way through the people, smiling at them, open, leaning down to listen to older women or young children as they volunteered information without even realizing they were doing it.
She managed to look as though she wasn’t a tourist, but a woman who had chosen the city as her home and knew it intimately. He knew that was one of her gifts—blending seamlessly in, looking as if she belonged, her sunny nature inviting others to talk to her. He was watching a master at work and recognized it. He found he was inexplicably proud of her, as if her accomplishments were his own. He could see why Whitney considered her one of the best trackers on the planet.