GhostWalkers 10 - Samurai Game by authors_sort Page B

he needed was to get his enemy in clear sight, and he preferred to do so without an audience. He dug his elbows into the soft dirt and leaves, scuttling up the slope like a lizard until he was able to look over a rotting log. Three men, armed with automatic weapons, stood beside a Jeep. They were dressed like hunters, but their weapons were for killing men. The driver sat at the wheel, looking up toward the sky, eager to get on his way.
    The wash from the helicopter struck Sam before the overgrown dragonfly came dancing through the sky. The door was open and a man crouched just inside, an automatic weapon cradled in his arms. The pilot was skilled, maneuvering through the heavy canopy to give his gunner the best advantage.
    Azami calmly let her arrow fly, sending it on its way and instantly following with a second so fast the two shots were nearly simultaneous. The first arrow went through the throat of the gunner, and the second took the pilot through his eye. At once the helicopter lurched like a giant wounded bird.
    Sam wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Teleportation was something he’d studied and tried to understand on an intellectual level. He had taken part in the research and knew there were several studies under way—including at Samurai Telecommunications—that were on the verge of discovering just how it all could be done, but not with a human being. In theory, the person teleporting would be reproduced and then destroyed while his copy ended up somewhere else. He knew how it worked on
things
, transporting particles, but not how he was able to do it so smoothly. He no longer cared about the how—maybe he could really move faster than light and he simply
appeared
to teleport.
    Sam projected his body to that spot directly behind the man at the rear of the vehicle. The mercenary’s attention was directed to the sky, his eyes wide with shock, his fingers around his gun without a real understanding of what just happened. Sam gripped the mercenary’s head in two very large, strong hands and wrenched, dropping him onto the ground, neck broken. Another burst of speed had him behind the man who had stepped out on the passenger side. Sam used a knife, dragging him backward, lowering him to the ground, and moving once more.
    To move numerous times with that burst of speed was dangerous, causing his stomach to churn and his mind to go fuzzy around the edges. He’d made two kills before the helicopter had even begun to spin out of control. He came up behind the third soldier fast, grasping his head and giving him a quick, decisive jerk. He had always been abnormally strong, and the enhancements as well as his physical training had added to his natural strength. He dropped the dead man and crouched low just as Azami’s third arrow took the driver straight through his neck. The Jeep rocketed forward as the dead man’s foot stomped down hard, slamming into the tree ahead.
    The chopper came down with the sound of metal grinding and men screaming. Still in a crouch, Sam looked downthe slope to Azami. His vision was blurred and his head screaming at him.
    “You’re damned good with that bow.”
    She bowed slightly. “A little known fact—samurai were renowned with bows and arrows long before the sword. And there were female samurai, some very famous.”
    “I have your father to thank,” he guessed.
    “That you do.” Her eyebrow rose slightly. “You’re pretty fast. I didn’t even see you make your move on them and that’s unusual for me.”
    “You were fairly occupied making certain you took out the helicopter—and thank you for that.”
    She nodded solemnly. “You’re very welcome.”
    “We’re not out of the woods yet,” he said. A second vehicle was close.
    “That’s stating the obvious,” Azami flashed a small smile and deliberately looked around at the thick forest of trees.
    He found himself smiling to himself with grudging respect in spite of the situation as he crouched down