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“Harlow said if we went in via the side door, there are no neighbors that can see that door. Straight line through the kitchen to the library.”
Picking the door and deadbolt locks was child’s play for AJ. Once inside, they carefully walked across the black and white tile floor. Because of the slush and snow outside, they would need to wipe the floor before leaving. Opening a closet, Nate pulled out a mop, leaning it by the door so as not to forget.
The entire home was filled with priceless antiques, no doubt bought or stolen by Spencer and Maxine Judge. There wasn’t a speck of dust to be found. Everything aligned perfectly on shelves, desks, and tables. It was as if it were a showpiece house. Not a home.
While HG and Mo assured that there was no one else in the house, Ethan and AJ entered the library. Nate held up three fingers, pointing to the third shelving unit from the left. Sure enough, when AJ pressed against the shelf, they heard a click as it opened just enough to grip and pull.
“We’re clear,” said Mo in a low voice. He stared at the door to the safe. “Holy fuck. What the hell is that?”
“It’s made by a company called Buben and Zorweg. It’s one of the most sophisticated and expensive safes in the world. Once we get it open, you’re probably going to see a bunch of expensive watches and jewelry. That’s really what it was designed to hold.”
AJ went to work on the dial of the safe while Ethan carefully listened for the dials to align and move.
“Should we take the watches? Make it look like a robbery?” asked Mo.
“It might be a good idea,” said Nate. “We can ditch them somewhere. We damn sure can’t sell them and risk them being traced back to us.”
“Shh,” chastised AJ. They all nodded, trying to wait patiently. When they heard the whir of mechanisms and wheels aligning, they knew they’d done it. Opening the massive door, sure enough there was a wall of jewel encrusted watches along with several necklaces, bracelets, and earrings.
Opening the drawers, they found what they were looking for. Dozens of files from the Justice Department were stacked inside. But it was one file in particular that caught their eyes.
REAPER
“Shit,” muttered Mo. “They have an entire folder on us.” Opening the massive folder there were dozens of photos, some from twenty or thirty years ago. The ones that were most disturbing were the more recent photos of the younger men in their military uniforms.
“They knew who we were,” said Nate. “All of us. Then and now. They know who we are.”
“Fuck this,” said HG. “Take it all. Take every last damn thing. Search the room and see if there are any other files. If you can’t find any, we’re going to burn this shit to the ground.”
“Let me text Harlow to see if there’s anything she wants saved,” said Nate.
Have to burn it all down, babe. Anything you want me to save?
He waited patiently, hoping she would understand why they had to make this decision. There were a lot of valuables in this house, and by right, it belonged to her. He didn’t want to have to destroy it, but judging by what they’d seen, there could be hiding places everywhere.
You. I only want to save you.
He grinned, staring at the others.
“Blow it all.”
“Wait,” said AJ. “I found a safe in the bedroom. Let me open that and get what I can.” Grabbing an empty laundry basket, they filled the basket with the files, watches, everything. Then took one last look around them.
Mo, HG, and Jak set the charges throughout the house. There wouldn’t be one shingle left to identify anything inside. Finding a large piece of plywood in the garage and a can of red spray paint, Nate left one final clue for the fire and police departments. They made their way back to the SUV, waited in a wooded area until the night sky was lit with more explosives than they’d seen since Baghdad.
The explosion rocked homes for nearly a mile on both sides. Many of the neighbors were in the city for the winter, enjoying the cold steel of Manhattan instead of the pristine beaches and oceanfront views of the Hamptons.
The burning was so intense, there was nothing the fire department could do except watch it burn itself out.
“Sir, you need to see this,” said a police officer to his captain. “Someone left us a message.” Leaning against the inside of the hedge at the front lawn was a big piece of wood with a very clear message.
Spencer and Maxine Judge are child traffickers, drug dealers, and murderers.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Spencer Judge was speaking to a room full of people. People who were willing to shell out ten thousand dollars a plate for rubbery chicken and runny cheesecake. More importantly, they were willing to write checks to support Justice Morrison in his bid to become the next president.
He was on fire. Making jokes, the room was rippling with laughter. Looking down at his wife, he saw her check her phone several times, then the tense expression on her face. He wondered, briefly, what was wrong. What was really on his mind was why the hell she was paying attention to her phone instead of him.
