A third shot rang out as Jack scooted back into the bushes for cover, the bullet hitting where his head had been. Ken was already targeting the brief flash. Taking his time, he tightened his finger on the trigger just as his quarry shifted position. The bullet slammed home, driving the sniper backward, the rifle still in his hands. Ken followed with a second round, but his target was dropping through tree branches. He knew that neither bullet had killed his target, a rare occurrence. Eye to the scope, he followed the path of the sniper as he tumbled down the slope, crashing through trees and brush.

Instant awareness rippled through Ken's mind, as if all members of the Ghost Walkers and the assassination squad were connected in some way to the sniper.

Stand down. Ken! Kadan issued the command. They're backing off to protect that man. Get to him first. Whoever he is-he's more important than the primary target. Secure the sniper immediately. We'll hold his team here while you make a run for it.

I've got his back. Jack said unnecessarily. Every member of the GhostWalker team knew that where Ken went, so did Jack, and vice versa.

There was an instant of stillness, and then an electrical current sizzled through the air, snapping and crackling, so real that the edges of the clouds lit up with answering current. Power surged. There was no mistaking the sudden anxiety in the environment. It shimmered on the night breeze, a sudden alarm the other members in the sniper's unit couldn't control.

Ken shouldered his rifle and double-timed it. He knew the location of the body, and judging by the way the sniper had free-fallen, he'd been unconscious going down. That didn't mean he'd stay unconscious. Just like the others, he was a supersoldier, enhanced physically as well as psychically. And that meant containing him as quickly as possible.

Ken planned every move as he ran, trusting Jack to keep the enemy off of him. Two gunshots rang out almost simultaneously. A bullet zinged off to Ken's right, shaving the bark from a tree close to where he veered. The shooter had anticipated him leaping over a fallen trunk and on to another one to gain the far hill. Jack had no doubt been more successful with his bullet, because no one else shot at Ken despite the itch between his shoulder blades.