AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Like Uzbekistan,” Mendez said.
“I don’t know what that means, but sure,” I answered.
“He means like our mission there. We did recon for three weeks, figuring out their routines, who was responsible for what, observing their security, and waiting for a new moon for the cover of darkness,” Adam explained.
“Then yes, exactly like that, but we aren’t waiting three weeks. I couldn’t live with myself taking that amount of time. I think that we should complete some recon tonight and take shifts. Guy, any chance you can try to get access to their internet? Figure out a back door and see if they have cameras or anything else that could help us?” I asked.
“Yeah, but I have to warn you, they may not have any of that stuff. The resorts all had paper records, and that was under lock and key. They may not trust technology, and there’s nothing I can do if they don’t even have the internet and a working computer there. It would be a risk for them.”
He had a point. In New York, the only computer in the high rise was in the head asshole’s office. It sat right on the desk that he fucked me on. I had stared at it several times just wishing for the opportunity to hack into it and send what I could to Bob and the rest of the team. I didn’t get lucky enough until the last day, when the asshole tried to cross a boundary and I choked him out. At first he thought it was me trying to be kinky, but when he realized he was about to black out and I wasn’t letting go, he became frantic. It was already too late. I got a bruise to the cheek, and he lost consciousness. I tied him to the chair with his tie while I powered on the computer and sent everything I could find over to Bob. The lines got a little blurred at the legality of that, as an agent sending information to the bureau from this guy without a warrant and without his permission, but it ultimately held out. I was first acting as a kidnapped victim since there wasn’t a way for me to actually escape. I was by definition held against my will.
“Give it a try and let us know what you find. If we get the opportunity, I’d like to get my feet on the ground and scope out the buildings from the outside, check out possible entry points, and see if there are any other security measures,” I said.
“If there are, you could take a chance of triggering them,” he countered.
“Are you thinking of infrared lasers?” I asked.
“That’s one of many concerns,” Jones said.
“Also redneck booby traps, like fromHome Alone.” Jasmine snicked at her reference through the radio. I ignored it, despite it being a good reference. I didn’t need anything to encourage Adam to be even more protective.
“Don’t you know the trick?” I asked, referring to lasers.
“What trick?”
“Throw a very small amount of dirt into the air while wearing night goggles. Not enough dirt to appear like a solid object going through the beams, but just enough to float in a breeze. You will see the light from the laser scatter off the dirt particles,” I said.
“For real?” Christine asked through the radio.
“For real,” I answered.
“That’s like some spy shit,” Jasmine commented.
“Let’s tuck that bit of knowledge away for another day. No one gets off the boat tonight. We give them thirty minutes to settle down, then we will ride past very slowly with the lights off and get one good look at the compound and then get out of here. We’ll pick the first time to do recon and then switch out every four hours,” Wells said.
I was happy enough with that plan. We waited on the boat quietly for what felt like an agonizing thirty minutes in silence as we waited for the coast to be clear. Twenty-five minutes in, all the lights in the center house turned off, and everything remained silent. Wells started up the trolling motor, which was much quieter than the large, superpowered motor hanging off the back of the boat. We’d use the big guns when we got back out to the ocean.
We slowly crept up to the house and remained completely silent. A fish could have farted in the water and we would have heard it. I looked for any signs of cameras. After a minute, I spotted one angled down toward the back door. Hopefully we were out of view. I checked out all three houses and silently thanked God for the invention of night-vision goggles. With them I was able to spot the cameras trained at the back doors and the three deadbolt locks on each door. They were solid steel, which didn’t match up with the design of the rest of the rich, bougie neighborhood. This should have stood out when they were doing recon in the area, but hindsight was always twenty-twenty. Their area of expertise was in the Middle East, not the playground of the rich and perverted.
I did everything I could to commit these houses to memory. I took in the size of the windows, which I’d be able to fit through, but Adam surely wouldn’t. Someone smaller like Yates or Guy might be able to squeeze in, but I guessed that the rest would be too large to make it through stealthily.
All too soon Wells guided us out of the canal and back to the yacht that was waiting for us just outside the entrance to the canal.
We tied our boat to the yacht and boarded. Then began to plan.
CHAPTERTWENTY-FIVE
adam
It was a long fucking day, and the damn yacht didn’t have a fucking coffee maker. So I had to settle for the instant coffee packets that Christine kept in her purse. I didn’t ask why she carried them, but I never thought I’d say that I was thankful for them. I wasn’t a coffee snob, but they tasted like garbage. My only saving grace was they still had the caffeine that I needed to help me stay awake. We pulled an all-nighter in the yacht planning, while Yates had sailed us further out to sea. The last thing we wanted was anyone pointing out our presence, which would certainly be noticed in what was likely a private waterway.
Abby did some casual scrolling and found a house on the other side of the canal, about four houses down from the traffickers. It came with a dock and was listed as a vacation rental online. Christine handed over her debit card immediately. It gave us a place to hang out much closer to what Abby had dubbed “the compound.” I’d miss the luxury of the resort, but we weren’t on vacation, and a rental would be much better than I endured in the sandbox.
“Here, take these,” Jones said as he handed over the fishing poles he rented.
“Perfect cover for being outside and keeping an eye on the compound, fishing off the dock,” he said with a smug smile that told me he hoped we were impressed with that.
“Don’t compliment him. It will just go to his head. Then I’ll have to deal with that later,” Jasmine said as she shook her head. She was fighting for control of a grin that wanted to break free.
