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“Twenty-eight men? I think we’re royally fucked.”
“What?” I tease to try and lighten her suddenly sullied mood. “Did your intel and little map not account for all the arseholes parading around the place?”
“Shut up, Knight. Like you had a better idea.”
“I did, actually.” The magazine snaps back into my revolver.
I can practically feel Kate’s eye roll. “Winging it isn’t an idea. It’s a death sentence.”
I’m already on my feet and moving toward the edge of the roof at a low crouch. “I prefer the term ‘calculated improvisation’.”
With a mock salute, I jump down to the ground below, landing in a roll to cushion the blow. One drop, and I’ve effectively crossed the boundary of the cartel compound.
“Arnie.” Kate hisses after me. “Get back here!”
“We have a thirty-five-second window before that guard goes back through those doors,” I gesture toward the patio doors again. “Do you want to argue with me or move?”
Kate doesn’t respond; however, a few seconds later, there’s a dull thump, and she’s by my side again.
“This wasn’t part of the plan,” she whispers through her teeth.
“Plans are more like guidelines anyway,” I counter, not giving her time to respond before sprinting out into the open.
Kate is hot on my tail as I weave through the blindspots toward the patio door. There’s a chance someone might see us in the last five yards, but as long as the door is open, we should be able to slip by undetected.
My hand wraps around the handle, and I open it for Kate to slide through.
I slip in behind her, resetting the door as I do. Only to turn around to find she’s vanished. Panic begins to well up inside me as my eyes dart across the room, taking in the dated furniture.
“Oi, asshole!”
My head snaps toward a slight rustle behind one of the hideous curtains.
“Eight seconds,” Kate continues.
But I’m already moving, throwing myself to the floor and crawling behind the couch.
No sooner do I tuck in my feet than the patio door opens again, and theBlack Coatstrides in, seemingly unaware of our presence.
We both wait in silence until he leaves the room entirely, and Kate is free to join me on the floor.
And to immediately punch me in the ribs.
“Fuck!” I yelp, struggling to keep my voice low. “What was that for?”
“We’re supposed to be working together on this!” she whispers angrily. “You can’t just take off like that. And don’t give me any of that ‘I work alone’ crap. Act like a goddamn professional.”
It pains me to admit how intimidated I am by this woman. “Yes, ma’am.”
“And quit being sarcastic all the time.”
I glance over the top of the couch to assess the space with less time pressure. “Where are we?”
“Second floor, east wing,” Kate responds immediately.
“Second?” I reply with a frown.
“The first floor is partially submerged beneath the ground. Which you would have known if you’d studied mylittlemap.”
