Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 117915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 590(@200wpm)___ 472(@250wpm)___ 393(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 590(@200wpm)___ 472(@250wpm)___ 393(@300wpm)
That was why, instead of going home to pack my things, I drove to the office first to check in with the team and give them an update.
When I yanked the front door open, Herman startled awake like a sleepy basset hound and jumped to his feet. He’d traded his kilt today for a floral-print shirt, baggy khaki shorts, and Birkenstocks. “Cream, two sugars!”
I rolled my eyes. “Morning, Herman. Sitrep?”
“All’s quiet, sir. That plumber hasn’t come back,” he said sourly. “But when he does, I’m gonna give him a piece of my mind.”
“Excellent. At least someone around here is working hard.” I stepped back into the mosh pit and found Hux yelling at someone through his headset, Elvo picking his teeth with an unbent paperclip, and Riggs cleaning his gun… on top of some very official-looking documents.
“Tell me one of you idiots has eyes on Drakes Farm,” I said, storming into Hux’s war room. Elvo straightened up so fast he knocked his chair over and tumbled to the floor. Riggs slammed his ammo clip home and holstered his weapon before raising an eyebrow at me. And Hux continued to call someone something that sounded suspiciously like a Space Chicken Provocateur. He didn’t even look up when I spoke.
Elvo was the first to respond. “We have drone footage and elevation maps with heat signatures. Hux was trying to hack the existing alarm system to get eyes on the inside through motion-sensor cameras, but when he tried, something went funky.”
“Explain,” I said, pulling out a chair and sinking into it. Once I settled down, I noticed the large monitors on the wall had the images and feeds he’d mentioned. Good. They hadn’t been completely slacking off.
Hux threw off his headset with a muttered curse. “Fucking Kev. I swear to God. He thinks our systems have a security vulnerability. Like I’d let our systems have a security vulnerability. The man is a professional couch potato, and he has the audacity to imply I—a man who was trained in cybersecurity by the United States government—know less about—”
I pinched the bridge of my nose and tried not to shout. “Skip to the point.”
“Anyway,” Hux continued, typing a few keys while he spoke. “I had to reboot after one of my process daemons froze, but we’re up and running now.”
One of the screens showed several images I recognized as views inside the farmhouse. No people were visible, and the place was still and quiet.
I sighed. Okay. Good. Now that we had eyes on the inside, we’d be able to see Drakes or Levi access hidden areas.
We’d also know if anyone else tried to access the house.
More views popped up as the screen shuffled between the cameras. I looked more closely and then stood up to walk toward the monitor on the wall. “What’s that one? The study.”
Hux’s typing clacked while he selected the feed I wanted and expanded it to fit the screen. It was a similar office to the one Drakes had in Nashville, only less formal. Two windows were set into built-in cabinetry high on the wall.
“You think that’s a basement room?” I wondered out loud.
Hux typed some more, and a different monitor showed floor plans of the old farmhouse. He zeroed in on a room on the bottom level. “Yeah. Looks like it’s this room in the basement on the north side of the house.”
I blew out a breath. Now we were getting somewhere. “Good. That’s where I’ll start looking when I move in.”
Everyone around the table shot me a look of surprise. “Move in?” Riggs asked. “To the target’s residence?”
Elvo’s eyes widened in wonder. “This is why you’re the boss. You have magical shit going on up there.” He gestured vaguely to my face.
I explained how the topic of Marissa staying at the farmhouse had come up and how I’d quickly inserted myself into the plan. I also filled them in on what I’d overheard about the break-in at the Drakeses’ house.
“I need to run home and pack some stuff. We’re moving in tomorrow.”
“We?” Yolanda said, wandering in to hand me a stack of checks to sign. “You… and the wedding planner?”
“Me and my cover, yeah,” I said gruffly, daring her to make something of it. Fortunately, she caught the look Riggs sent her way and was smart enough to keep her mouth shut.
We spent the next hour and a half pulling together some surveillance tech for me to take with me. Small listening devices and cameras, as well as a motion-sensor alert for the entry gate so we’d be able to track who entered the property.
By the time I left to head back to my ramshackle excuse of a house, I was feeling better about the status of our mission. Surely once I was living on-site, I’d be able to get my hands on Drakes’s Horn.