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Fortunately, it was far enough. Hooter soared over the mansion twice, did his job, and, ten minutes later, Ryan and Marc were back in the van and off the property.
Marc drove a half mile closer to where they were meeting Aidan, pulled over, and turned off the engine. Then, he and Ryan climbed into the back of the van and reviewed the videos. From what they saw, they drew a rough map of the property that was closest in proximity to the mansion—a map that included buildings and their estimated sizes.
The stable complex, situated about five hundred feet behind and to the side of the manor, was enormous. The infrared had picked up quite a bit of human and animal activity going on in that immediate area. Horses were being tended to in a corral, and a cluster of guards was posted at all the doors.
“Clearly, that’s not just a bunch of stables, offices, and a veterinary clinic,” Marc muttered, studying the massive rear buildings. “For security to be so tight, that’s got to be where the PED experimentation is going on.”
Ryan nodded. “The good part is that the manor itself has fewer guards than the stables do. It’s obvious where Lubinov’s focus is—on his work. That should make it a little easier for you and Aidan to get inside. They have to be holding her in a section of the place that’s nowhere near where the real work occurs.”
“We’ll enter here.” Marc pointed at the unguarded study located in the manor’s living quarters, farthest from the activity and closest to Lake Champlain. “We’ll go room to room. And we won’t walk out until Emma is with us.”
As he spoke, his iPhone vibrated. “Talk to me,” he said to Aidan.
“I’m here,” his brother replied.
“Good. We’re a few miles away. See you in five.”
Marc punched off. “Let’s move,” he told Ryan.
The warehouse Aidan had gotten his Marine buddy to lend him was right on Lake Champlain, five miles across from the Lubinov compound.
Marc pulled the van up to the wide steel doors and waited.
Aidan heard the sound of their approaching tires. He verified it was them and then pressed the necessary controls to roll up the steel door.
He gestured for them to pull in.
Marc did as instructed, parking the van next to Aidan’s SUV and turning off the ignition. He and Ryan jumped out—Marc carrying a large duffel filled with his waterproof bag, wetsuit, and diving gear, and Ryan gripping the maps.
After reflexively glancing outside to ascertain that the three of them were secure, Aidan rolled down the warehouse door and joined the other two men.
“We got closeup videos of the manor and drew you and Marc a map,” Ryan began by announcing.
“You did what?” Aidan glared from Marc to Ryan and back. “You were on Lubinov’s property? Are you both completely insane?”
“Easy,” Marc said. “You’re right. But it was worth it. Take a look.” He took the map out of Ryan’s hands and showed it to Aidan. “Now we know our point of entry.”
“The ground-floor study,” Aidan muttered. “Yeah, okay, this helps. But you’re still assholes—especially you, Marc. Ryan’s a civilian. You’re a fucking Navy SEAL. Since when did you become so careless?”
“It’s called taking a risk. And it got us what we needed, Raider,” Marc shot back, referring to the Raiders of the elite Commando Units of MARSOC—the Marine Corps Forces Special Operations Command—in which Aidan had been a plank holder—one of the original members to train.
“Hey.” Ryan held up both his hands, as if to break up a brawl. “You can beat the shit out of each other later. For the record, this was my fault. But Marc’s right. We got what we needed. So let’s use it.”
Still muttering under his breath, Aidan unzipped his bag and pulled out all his scuba equipment and a waterproof gear bag. Inside the bag were night vision goggles and his weapons—KA-BAR knife, 9 mm SIG Sauer pistol, and M4 carbine, which was short and compact but with lots of fire power.
Marc had the same, except that, instead of the M4 carbine, he carried a 9 mm H&K MP5, a submachine gun that was, up until recently, standard issue for the FBI.
Both men began pulling on their wetsuits.
“Where’s the boat?” Ryan asked.
“Over there by the dock.” Aidan pointed. “You said you’ve handled one before, right?”
Ryan rolled his eyes. “It’s a little powerboat, Aidan. I’ve taken more girls out in those than—”
“Fine, never mind.” Aidan waved away what he knew was coming. “You have your iPhone on you?”
“Always.” Ryan didn’t let him interrupt. “And my signal to move in is when you text me the word: ‘Success.’ Very original.”
