GhostWalkers 10 - Samurai Game

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the way she did? Faster than the speed of light? A form of teleportation? Could there be two people capable of such a thing?
    She slipped past him, careful not to disturb leaves as she used an animal’s tunnel to scoot through the heavier brush. She went about three feet before she turned to look over her shoulder. Sam wasn’t there anymore. She glanced toward the tree at nine o’clock and then tried to see the one at three o’clock. The view was entirely obscured, and in any case, she had a job to do.
    Sam needed privacy to work his skills. Sending her off to find the enemy was a calculated risk. Could he kill both snipers in the trees before she was spotted? He didn’t waste time, taking the closest tree, the one at three o’clock. The man was up high, about thirty feet, sitting in the crotch ofthe tree, his rifle resting on the branch snaking out to provide both cover as well as support.
    Trees were extremely dangerous when using teleportation. Too many sharp edges and the potential for missing smaller, unseen twigs made the idea terrifying, but his enemy was sitting up in that tree with a sniper rifle, hunting him and Azami. He wasn’t about to let that go. In any case, the foot soldiers had told him nothing about this particular attack. He wanted to find a way to follow the thread back to the snake’s head and he had to do it before Azami got hurt.
    It was difficult not to think of her as a soldier. She was too well trained and it was easy to see her as a warrior rather than someone he needed to protect. She
felt
capable. She
felt
, gut-deep, like a partner. Still, he had to get into both trees and take out the snipers if they were to hold out until help came.
    He studied the tree carefully, taking great care to find the perfect place to insert his body without damaging it and still get to the sniper before the man could alert the others—or kill him. He watched as the wind blew through the leaves and shifted the branches subtly. It was fortunate that the crotch of the tree was fairly bare of snapped-off branches, lessening the chances of making a mistake. He didn’t want to end up with a stake stuck through his leg—or any other part of his anatomy.
    He picked his retreat, a spot closer to the other sniper, one that should afford him a good enough view to scope out an entry point. Unfortunately, the space was free of cover and he’d have only a moment to slip into the brush before the sniper would spot him. To ensure his chances, he would have to cause a small distraction, buying him just enough time to vanish.
    Sam made the jump fast, a blinding, blurring speed that took less time than his thinking process had. His body hit the vee of the tree perfectly, but the momentum nearly threw him off the other side. Something bit hard at his calf and dug into his back, but he dismissed the pain and caught thesniper’s head by his hair, jerking it back as the knife bit deep into the throat. He shoved the body from the tree as he made the jump back to his retreat point, hoping the other sniper would look up at the movement of the body and give him those few seconds he needed.
    He found himself a little disoriented, but he managed to slip into the brush and lie flat, his heart racing as he checked to make certain he was still all in one piece. Blood seeped from a stab wound on his calf where a broken branch had jabbed him. He couldn’t get his hand to his back without disturbing the brush around him to test for blood, but it hurt like a son of a bitch, so he didn’t need evidence that trees were not the place to try teleportation. Still—he was going to do it again.
    He studied the sniper through the foliage. Dark hair, dark skin, yet not black, the man definitely knew the business end of a rifle. Sam found having enhanced vision was very helpful in just these situations. The sniper was much higher up in the tree, the branches thick and plentiful, making the tree easy to climb but much harder to teleport into. It

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