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Cain stepped back, gave Jet one more long look, then turned and strode away.
Hadley came over. “Hot.”
“Shut it. You have your own guy.”
Hadley touched Jet’s arm. “We’ll see you soon.”
Jet watched her team disappear into the night. She picked up a tablet and activated the drones. Condor lifted off first and flew upward. She tapped and activated the cameras and thermal imaging.
Next, Swift zoomed up with a high-pitched whir. It was smaller and more aerodynamic. It flew higher and higher until the night swallowed it.
Jet leaned against the SUV and activated her earpiece.
She could imagine her team closing in on the boathouse, and when she opened her laptop resting in the back of the SUV, she could see them all on screen.
Each pair of colored blobs moved stealthily across Weber’s estate.
Cain was paired with Boone, and was coming in closest to the boathouse. She marked them. And then the rest of the team.
Now she saw the smudges of Weber’s guards.
She quietly relayed intel to her team. She watched as they all moved closer, and she flew Swift directly over the boathouse.
“Four heat signatures inside, on the southern half of the boathouse.” The place was a freaking mansion, with huge glass windows everywhere. Calling it a boathouse was the understatement of the century.
Suddenly, a new signature popped into existence. Right near Cain and Boone.
Shit. She touched her ear. “Shade, you have a bogey in range.”
“I see him.”
A second later, his heat signature attacked the guard. She saw the skirmish on screen and wished she had more detail. Her belly tied itself in knots.Damn. Did the guard have a weapon? A gun or a knife?
She saw Cain’s heat signature drag the now-still guard away and into a garden bed.
“Neutralized.” His voice was cool and unruffled.
Jet released a breath.
“Entering the southern section of the boathouse now,” Cain said.
“Acknowledged,” Killian replied.
Jet flew the drone into a tight circle. The more intel she could get, the safer her team—the safer Cain—would be.
She stared at her screens. This would all be over soon.
* * *
It was a warm night,and a trickle of sweat made its way down the back of Cain’s neck.
He’d left the guard bound and gagged in the garden. Boone Hendrix moved silently beside him.
They neared the boathouse. It was a fucking fancy place to be just for boats. The two sides of it were large, with high roofs and lots of windows. A small bridge connected the two sides. Several docks jutted out on the lake side of the structure.
Cain paused, Boone behind him. He listened. There were no sounds of guards or conversation. He glanced up to the sky, and then out over the lake. He knew Jet’s drones were up there, somewhere, keeping an eye on him.
He lifted an arm and pointed. With a nod, Boone moved into position.
