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Thank you, Lord. Relief swarmed in his belly, but he held perfectly still. “I’ve got eyes on her. Front window. Right of the door. It’s Teresa.”
“Roger that,” Deckard said. “I’ve got the rear covered.”
Both Riley and Harper confirmed their positions.
Teresa’s gaze swept over his general position, but he was six hundred yards out. Far enough out of eyesight if he remained still. The flat mesa stretched for miles with no impediments between her and him except the few rocks surrounding him, so movement could draw her attention. But still—no way at this distance. He kept his gaze fixed on her through his long-range scope.
A handful of turkey buzzards dipped from the sky overhead, landing off to his right. Something must have died, but he kept his gaze trained on the window.
A tall man with dark hair strode up behind Teresa, taking a scan of the land over her shoulder. It wasn’t her husband. He’d seen his picture. Perhaps another one of her thugs to replace Enrique, whom Joel had arraigned and now was behind bars awaiting trial. One down. Four, including the unknown man, to go.
The man’s gaze swept the area again.
Christian remained still, only the breath passing through his lungs making the smallest movement in his diaphragm.
After a moment, the man rested his hands on Teresa’s shoulders and guided her back. He took one more sweep of the land and closed the curtain. They had a minimum of two in the house, and he was betting no Cyrus or Ethan. The pair was scanning the area, no doubt waiting for them to arrive. Given the loot they’d be delivering, they’d need to arrive by car—at least to unload. The question was, Where was Teresa’s vehicle, and was someone waiting in it for her when she needed it?
“We’ve got two unfriendlies confirmed in the house,” he said over comms. “There could be more, but at least we know we have Teresa.”
He kept his breath even, his heartbeat level.
They’d notified the Bureau’s art theft team of the potential dropsite since it was their case, but it would take several hours to arrive from Albuquerque, and that was if they were able to leave straightaway.
“Andi, you can confirm with the Bureau that Teresa is on site. You should probably alert DEA as well.”
“Will do. Oh...” She had a swift intake of air. “We’ve got a black Dodge Sprinter approaching from the west, heading your way.”
“Deck, hold very still.”
“On it.”
“All right, team,” Christian said. “I’ll fire as soon as Cyrus and Ethan exit the car. If they make it into the house, we’re looking at a shootout. I’ll take them fast in a nonlethal area.”
“And Teresa?” Deckard asked.
“She’ll be a sitting duck in the house. I think she and the man will come out low and head for the van. Then we move in once they are visible.”
“Hel—” Andi’s voice went silent as scuffling and thumping sounded. “He—”
Fear squeezed Christian’s throat. “Andi?”
A car door slammed.
His heart stilled. “Andi?”
No response.
Adrenaline surged through him. “Does anyone have eyes on the van?”
“Not yet,” Harper said, followed by Riley.
The way they were positioned, they didn’t have eyes on Andi.
“Andi!” he hollered, begging God for her to answer.
“Already on it,” Deckard said, closest to Andi’s position. “I’ve got the van. It’s heading down the road for the house now. In sixty seconds, you’ll see it.”
He swallowed, praying the answer was no before he asked the question. “Do you see Andi in the van?”
