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Lambchop soon joined them. “If Woods doesn’t come out all day or go to that bar this evening, we’re going to have to lure him out. We need to get access to his place.” His eyes met Roth’s. “That’ll be on you.”
“I could pretend I don’t recall the name of the bar he told me about and go knock on his door,” Roth said. “And then I could invite him to come join me. I don’t think that’d be too obvious. And I could maybe get a peek inside his house in the process.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Lambchop agreed.
“Got the target’s garage door opening, and the car is running,” Wilson advised. It was zero seven-thirty, and he was in the loft on look out. Burke was positioned in the strip mall parking lot.
“We need about twenty minutes in his place,” Lambchop broadcast through comms. “Go get the others up,” he told Roth.
Roth popped his comms in and then ran up the stairs and opened each of the bedroom doors, rousing Tessman and Mother.
“Target is backing out of his driveway,” Wilson broadcast. “Handsome, prepare to follow. I’m watching the time.” He knew the others would be as well, but as overwatch, it was his job to mark the time the Op started and ended.
“We’ll be ready to move the second he’s at least fifteen minutes away from here,” Lambchop said. “Tessman, you’ll cut the internet after Roth does a front door knock to ensure the house is vacant. Mother and I will go in through the back.”
Everyone acknowledged him. The men in the house put on their jackets and gathered their gear, everyone waiting by the back door. Roth watched the hand on his wristwatch click through the minutes. “Fifteen minutes,” Wilson announced.
“Go,” Lambchop ordered. The four men filed out the back door.
“Target just pulled into a coffee shop parking lot,” Burke transmitted, after the men had cut through the guest parking lot.
“Going through the drive thru or inside?” Wilson asked.
“Inside, and it looks busy. Even if he takes it to go, we’ll be fine on time. I’ll keep you advised.”
“Roger that, Handsome,” Wilson replied.
While Lambchop and Mother followed Tessman behind the building that housed the townhouses where Woods’ unit lay in the middle, Roth walked towards the front door. He paced himself, like he was out for an early morning walk. He listened as Burke reported Woods was still in the coffee shop. Tessman reported he’d reached the cable box, and finally, Lambchop reported that he and Mother were at the back door.
He rang the doorbell and waited a moment, his ears straining to hear any sounds from inside. Then he fisted his hand and knocked three times on the door. He waited a few moments. “Doorbell ring and knock complete. No sounds, no sign of movement from inside. Just remember the cat when you enter.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and pressed it to his ear, lingering to make it look like with no answer, he was then on his phone, a reason to hang around the door, just in case.
“Internet cut,” Tessman broadcasted.
“Entering now,” Lambchop reported.
Lambchop expertly used the lock-picking tools to unlock the deadbolt and door handle locks on the French door. He opened the door as Mother looked near his feet, ready to capture the cat if it was there, and tried to escape. It didn’t.
They entered the kitchen. Even though the window treatments hid the interior from prying eyes outside, the space was not dark as they’d thought it would be. The blinds that covered every window allowed the sunlight to filter in.
They found a tidy kitchen. The cat food bowl was beside an identical bowl of water on the floor in front of the stationary panel of the French door. As they walked further into the house, the cat came running, a friendly tuxedo cat. It wore a sparkly collar with the name Mittens on the tag. Lambchop picked it up and gave it a few strokes with his gloved hand. Then he set it down by its food bowl.
“Any indication our target is gay?” Mother asked quietly. “A sparkly collar, and the cat’s name is quite feminine.”
The others chuckled through comms.
The two men found the extensive computer set up in the living room, which was predominantly computer equipment, with a loveseat and a recliner facing a television mounted to the wall in one area, an enormous computer desk with three large monitors positioned on it. A mouse, keyboard, and docking station completed the set up. All that was missing was the laptop that belonged in the middle of it all. “Damn, laptop and it’s not here,” Lambchop broadcast. “We’ll get the cameras and bugs planted.”
He and Mother got busy.
Delta
Briana came awake to banging. Her head throbbed for the rum and cokes the night before. Her bleary eyes focused on the clock that was on the bedside table. Seven-fifty. “Are you freaking kidding me? Again?” she said aloud. This was the third morning out of four that the asshole neighbor next door was banging something this early.
With this bedroom being in the front of the house, she heard every knock, every closing door, even many conversations that took place outside the front door units on either side of her. These townhouses may be only a few years old, but the construction was crappy. There was no soundproofing whatsoever.
She reached for the bedside table and took hold of the eye drops. She instilled a couple of drops in each eye, not even needing to look in a mirror to know her eyes were Christmas colors festive after a night of drinking. They always were. She needed to pee, but she didn’t want to get up. She hoped the banging had stopped and she could go back to sleep. She rolled over and snuggled into the pillow.
She wasn’t sure how long she lay there, as she knew she had dozed, but she heard something else that roused her from the shallow sleep, the sound of a door closing. Damn neighbor. Her bladder reminded her she had to pee, and she pulled herself from the bed.
