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Gabe’s fists were clenched tightly, and his voice sounded like he’d swallowed shards of glass when he growled out, “Dragon.”
“Sorry,” Ethan said. “Like I said, the hotel is covered. It’s the museum we need to worry about. I can’t tap into their feed. They’re using a military-grade security system, but the sensors I gave you should render it penetrable.”
“What do you mean ‘shouldrender it penetrable’?” Gabe asked.
“It’s not like I have the opportunity to practice on many military-grade systems. But it will work. I’m almost sure of it. Just place the sensors I gave you in the correct locations. Technology will take care of the rest.”
“We hope,” Jack muttered.
Ethan had created a camera so small it fit on a clear sticker no bigger than the tip of a woman’s pinky finger. It was almost invisible and virtually undetectable, so they’d have a clear shot of every dark corner and niche inside and outside the museum, as well as every guard. Once the sensors were in place, Ethan would activate the device, and the electronic frequency would give him the ability to tap into the control room and manipulate everything from the temperature to the monitors watched by security.
“Kill Shot will run through the spot checks in case we run into trouble,” Gabe said. “She’ll be able to alert us if anything unusual is going on around the perimeter of the museum. Grim Reaper will be our eyes inside, and Dragon will monitor the security while we get the painting.”
“It doesn’t seem like Renegade is very important to this mission,” Ethan said. “I don’t know, Ghost, it seems on a mission like this that everyone should be pulling their weight. Maybe you should cut him loose.”
“I’m too old for this,” Gabe muttered and turned to Jack. “I’m going to give him to Logan when we get back to headquarters. He has more patience than Job, and he probably won’t kill the kid.”
“Bollocks to that,” Logan said through the earpiece. He was walking all the exit paths from the city to the cars they had stashed for a quick getaway to make sure no unexpected construction had popped up to block their escape. “They’ll never find all of the pieces once I get through with him.”
“You guys are a laugh a minute,” Ethan said.
“Enough,” Gabe commanded. “It’s go time. Everyone stay connected and report in as if this were tonight. I want to know everyone’s line of sight at all times.”
“Roger that,” Logan said.
Gabe nodded and left the suite. As Luc Piccoult, Gabe had an enormous influence over a lot of very important people in Iran. Piccoult also happened to have a collection of bronze statues from the Renaissance period that the curator of the Tehran National Museum had been salivating over for several years. Gabe had set up a meeting with the curator so he’d have the opportunity to place the sensors throughout the museum while promising the man a loan of his bronzes for display. Everyone would be happy. Except the curator when he found one of his paintings had gone missing.
Grace went to unpack her weapon. Her hands were sure and steady as her fingers glided over the cold metal. With every piece she put together it was as if she were becoming more whole. No matter what was going on in her personal life, she always had this she could count on. She didn’t load the rifle for this practice run.
“What’s your ETA, Ghost?” she asked.
“Fifteen minutes on foot.”
She went into the bedroom and closed the door behind her, stripping off the expensive suit and pulling on khaki cargos and a long-sleeved T-shirt of the same color. Thick socks and boots came next, and she slapped a hat over the wig to keep her hair out of her face.
When she came out of the room, Jack was sitting at the dining table with two laptops open in front of him. He’d be able to see the inside of the museum once Gabe got all the sensors in place.
“Lookin’ good, sweetheart,” he said, giving her a wink.
“Nice,” Ethan said. “I’m sure your SEALs loved to be called sweetheart when you were on missions.”
Grace winked back and pulled a pair of eye protectors from her gun case. She put the strap of the rifle across her body so it lay across her back, and she opened the balcony door of the suite. A hot wind slapped at her face and clothes. The balcony was large, and the railing around the outside was more than chest high and made of solid stone. But at each corner the architects had ignored safety and gone for artistry instead. Wrought-iron bars spiraled out of the smooth concrete floor and tapered into a jumble of twisted metal that resembled something faintly feminine and erotic.
Sand swirled across the floor in lazy patterns, and she got down on hands and knees, adjusting her position until she lay flat on the ground. She pulled her rifle around and set it up so it was propped on the tiny stand that would keep it stable if the wind shifted, though she was protected fairly well by the high balcony walls.
“Approaching the first checkpoint,” Gabe said softly.
“Grim Reaper in position and placing outside sensors,” Logan said. The outside sensors would only be placed on the side of the museum that Grace was blinded to. They didn’t have enough cameras to monitor the entire perimeter, so her eyes would have to be good enough.
“Would you look at that?” Jack said. “They actually work.”
“Of course they work,” Ethan said, offended. “You stick to being the brawn, Renegade. I’ll be the brains.”
“Of course,” Jack said. “We still don’t know if they’ll override the system. We could have the Iranian Revolutionary Guard surround us in minutes if they don’t. I’ve been in an Iranian prison. It isn’t fun, and I’d prefer not to go back.”
“They’ll work,” Ethan growled.
“I’ve got you in my sights, Ghost,” Grace said, using her scope to pick Gabe out of the busy pedestrian traffic in front of the museum. She panned around the building, looking for threats or unknowns that might pop up. “It sure is nice of them to have all those big windows everywhere. I can basically see right through the whole building. Everyone is a sitting duck.”
