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Cain opened a side door. There was no one close by, but he did hear the murmur of voices from deep inside.
They slipped into the building.
“We’re inside.”
“Acknowledged. We’re coming in from the eastern side.” Wolf’s voice.
Cain heard the murmur of voices, and the lap of water. It was a two-story structure, but upstairs appeared to be a mezzanine loft area; the rest was open for large boats to get docked. There was one yacht moored on the left. Lake-related items were hanging on the walls—nets, oars, fishing gear. There was also a lot of gear stacked around in orderly piles.
He crept forward, sticking to cover. He peered around some crates.
He spotted Weber with three guards. The guy was in a suit again, and Cain wondered if he slept in them. The guards were all big guys, with guns holstered at the hips.
Weber checked his watch. “You confirmed they landed?”
“Yes, sir,” the guard replied.
“Good.” Weber smiled. “We have a very big payday ahead.”
Asshole. There’ll be no payday for you. You’re getting either a bullet, or a cell.
All of a sudden, gunfire ripped through the quiet boathouse.
Weber and his guards whirled and ducked for cover.
“Fuck.” It was Hades’ voice through the earpiece. “Two guards appeared out of a doorway. We’ve engaged.”
Cain cursed mentally. Shit went wrong, it always did.
“They weren’t on the thermal imagining,” Jet said.
“Looks like they just stepped out of some sort of cold storage,” Wolf said. “They keep fish in there, maybe?”
“It must’ve shielded them,” Jet said.
Dammit.
More gunfire. Cain rested his hand on his holstered Glock and gritted his teeth. He heard Weber and his guards murmuring furiously.
“Find out what the hell is going on,” Weber shouted at someone.
One of the guards lifted a cellphone to his ear.
“I’m hit,” Wolf said through the line. “Not urgent.”
Fuck. Cain pulled out his Glock. Boone did the same.
“I’ve got you,” Hades said. “We’re in cover, but Wolf’s bleeding, and we’re pinned down.”
“Stay down,” Killian’s cool voice. “We’re coming.”
Shit, everything had turned to hell.
“Killian.” Jet’s urgent voice. “There are more guards coming from the main house. A large group.”
Killian cursed.
Dammit. Cain gripped the hilt of his gun. Weber must have pulled in extra guards.
