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He passed her a communicator that she inserted quickly.
“He’s going to be expecting us,” she warned him. “He’s suspected us all along.”
“He wanted to believe you would be loyal to him. When you threw that disk away, you convinced him you could be. But he doesn’t fully trust. No one in his position would have.”
No one who really knew her would have believed she could have turned against her country, she thought. Myron had known, but he hadn’t told Warbucks. He had taken his chances, knowing that Wagner was pushing into fields that were going to get too many killed.
The other man had grown a conscience of sorts. How and why, she wasn’t certain.
“A helicopter is on its way to the Grace mansion,” a female voice reported calmly over the link. “ETA is in twenty minutes.”
“He’s getting ready to run.” She gripped the automatic rifle she still carried in her hands. “If he flies out of here, then we’ve lost him.”
“Well, let’s just make damned sure he doesn’t fly out,” he cursed. “Hold on.”
He hit the gas harder, causing the limo to jerk into gear as it began to power through the snow falling heavily around them. The drive to the Grace mansion wasn’t a long one. Ford had always liked having his material possessions close at hand.
As they accelerated up the drive that led to the mansion, Bailey quickly checked the weapon she carried for ammo before shoving another clip in her pocket, as well as the ankle backup John had stolen off the soldier he had killed.
“You have to give me the appearance of going in alone,” she told him imperatively. “Come in after me and cover me. Let’s see if I can get Ford and Mary, then we’ll do what we have to do once we’ve rescued them.”
She could tell he didn’t like this, but he nodded sharply. “I’ll be right on your ass,” he warned her as they neared the house.
“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” she promised him.
“All cameras in the house have been jammed,” the voice at their ear assured them. “You have a four-minute window to reach the office.”
Plenty of time.
“Location of all heat signatures?” John requested.
“Heat signatures show three people only in the house, Heat Seeker,” the female voice on the other side of the link announced. “One in the office, two in an anteroom.”
“That
has to be them,” Bailey murmured as John slammed to a stop in front of the house.
The limo was still rocking when Bailey jumped out, shoved her weapon into the back of her jeans, and strode to the front door.
It was unlocked. Opening it carefully, she stepped warily into the warmth of the house.
It had been years since she’d been here. The last time she had stayed all night with Anna when they had both been no more than children. Before she had been killed. Betrayed.
But had Anna’s life ended at her father’s hands—or at her brother’s?
Moving into the marble foyer, Bailey turned through the receiving room, then to the short hallway that led to the back of the house.
Ford’s office was at the back of the house, just as Raymond’s was at the cabin. There were two anterooms: a sitting room and a second, smaller office. The house was wired with cameras into the office, but only one person was in there. If he was watching the cameras, he would know something was wrong. She could get lucky, she thought. It could be Ford harmlessly working away, with Wagner waiting to pounce. They could be ignoring the monitors, but she highly doubted it.
She didn’t expect to get that lucky, but she could hope.
Holding the rifle ready she moved to the office, noticing that the door was cracked open. Glancing back silently at John, she peeked into the room and saw Ford working silently at his desk. The monitors to the house were turned off, but if she wasn’t mistaken there were actually more in the smaller office.
She eased the door open until it was flush against the back wall and stood in the doorway as John remained hidden at the side of the wall.
Ford glanced up in surprise.
“Bailey?” He came slowly to his feet, a frown on his face as he glared at the rifle. “What the hell is the meaning of this?”
