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“I plead the fifth,” Max declared, raising his hands, “and it doesn’t matter. You’ve been given an opportunity, so be a good girl and don’t overstep or do anything stupid. Got it?”
“Got it,” she said with a happy smile, then placing her mug on the coffee table, she wrapped herself up in the woolen throw and sat down on the comfortable couch. “Okay, Max, I’m ready. What’s going on?”
* * *
With Benny and Joe on an important errand, and wanting to give Max and Steph some time alone, Marco stepped into the empty security room to scan the monitors. Though the rain was heavy, and his men were wearing slickers, they diligently continued their rounds, but the two at the gate had sought shelter in the guardhouse.
Thinking back to the unexpected meeting with the brothers, he recalled how Ivan had slid his hands under the table to plant the bug.
“You were so awkward,” Marco muttered. “I want to see that again.”
Finding the recording, he leaned forward in his chair to watch and listen. Oleg had covered his mouth as he’d coughed, then adjusted his shirtsleeves, but Marco saw nothing of note. Grunting with frustration, he turned his attention to the abandoned farmhouse.
From the overhead view he could see the immediate area around the building was barren, but zooming back, he spotted small patches of trees leading into dense forest. They were a fair distance from the house, but at least Liam’s team would have some cover. Emailing himself the link, he headed to his bedroom, picked up his laptop, remembered to grab a towel, then walked quickly back to the cozy lounge.
“Hey,” he said, walking in and finding Steph bundled in the blanket and sitting on the couch. “Are you up to speed?”
“Max just finished filling me in,” she replied as Marco handed her the towel. “Thank you.”
“I’ve been studying that farmhouse,” Marco declared, placing his laptop on the coffee table as she wrapped up her wet hair. “I know you’ve seen this on my tablet, Max, but it’s clearer on this bigger screen. I want you both to take a look.”
While Marco powered up his machine, Max moved from his chair to sit on the other side of Steph, then leaned forward to study the terrain.
“It sucks!” Max exclaimed. “Even if you manage to get men in those trees without them being spotted, they’ll be forced to run across that open space to get to the structure.”
“Oleg probably has people there already, and they’ll be keeping an eye on that area,” Steph said glumly, “unless…”
“Unless what?” Marco prodded.
“This may sound farfetched, but that could be your answer. If Liam’s agents can get the jump on them, they could switch clothes.”
“Yes!” Max exclaimed. “Brilliant!”
Though the same idea had already flashed through his head, Marco broke into a wide smile and put his arm around her.
“Great thinking, Steph,” he said proudly, “but can Liam be trusted?”
“Max was telling me about that concern,” she said thoughtfully. “You said you’ve known him a long time. Why are you doubting him?”
“Because this sudden change in plan… this remote farmhouse… this whole thing… it suddenly stinks, and Liam is the one who brought this to me. I have to doubt him.”
“If he shows up alone, or with just his partner, then you have reason for serious concern, but if he’s with a team of agents, then it’s unlikely he’s working with the Zeppelins.”
“How can we know that without being there?” Steph asked. “Do we go up super early and wait for them to arrive?”
“There’s a much simpler solution,” Max declared, breaking into a grin. “It’s called a drone.”
Chapter 28
Every person has their price.
Through the years, Pablo Escobar’s famous quote was one Max learned to be true, but the wordpricewas misleading. It didn’t necessarily mean dollars and cents. The safety of a loved one, revenge, fear, and other equally motivating circumstances could push people into unimaginable actions.
Max was acquainted with Liam Miller and Jack McNaught. During his drive home from the Moretti compound, he found it hard to believe the successful, decorated agents would allow themselves to be ensnared by the likes of Oleg and Ivan Zeppelin.
Hurrying through the rain and into his building, he trotted up to the fourth floor, panting heavily as he reached his office. Staring at the floor and breaking into a grin, he reached down and picked up the piece of thin brown thread. Stretched across the threshold and blending in with the dark wood, the thread became almost invisible.
The old-fashioned methods were sometimes the best. The broken thread told him he’d had intruders, and he knew exactly who they were. Studying the lock, there were no scratches, and glancing up at the tiny camera, he knew he’d find interference if he played back the video.
