Something cut through the water between them. Reese tensed as he watched a big-bodied snake swimming toward him, head raised just above the surface. Hard to tell what flavor it was, but a poisonous bite out here could be deadly. Reese silently pulled an eight-inch folding knife out of his pocket and flipped the blade open.
The snake kept closing but turned away at the last moment and swam on past, missing him by inches. Reese breathed a sigh of relief. He started moving again, quietly slogging his way toward the opposite shore. Taking a moment to dump the water out of his boots, he dragged them back on and caught up with Chase.
Neither spoke. Chase left the trail and began circling toward the south while Reese headed north. The drone had revealed two doors into the cabin. Chase would go in through the back, Reese the front. Bran would go in through an attic window the drone had spotted, accessible from the roof.
But first they had to deal with the men patrolling the grounds outside.
Careful to stay in the shadows, Reese made his way through the heavy foliage to the north. Using the night-vision binoculars, he scanned the area. The rangy guy with the mustache stood not far away near the bank of the creek. On the other side of the clearing, the guy with the stocky build in the ball cap leaned against the Jeep, smoking a cigarette. The big guy with the ponytail was nowhere in sight, likely behind the cabin. Chase would have him spotted.
The guy with the mustache was farthest from the cabin, probably the easiest target. Bran would take him out first. Reese moved into position behind him, heard his brother’s muted shot echo softly through the bayou, and the man went down.
Reese hurried toward him. He was still awake but groggy, his eyes slowly closing as he lost consciousness. After hauling him into the bushes out of sight, satisfied he was no longer a threat, Reese headed for the guy smoking in the shadows next to the Jeep.
A muffled shot sounded from high in the trees. The dart took the stocky man in the side of the neck. A hissing sound came from his throat, the guy pawed at the dart, then slid soundlessly to the ground.
Reese stepped out of the foliage, grabbed the man’s limp arms, and dragged him out of sight behind the Jeep.
One to go.
The radio crackled to life. Reese tensed when Kenzie’s voice came over his earpiece. “Chase’s radio isn’t working right. He hasn’t been able to reach you or Bran. He says the third perimeter guard went inside the cabin.”
Which, from his position, Bran would have seen. Since he hadn’t communicated the info, his radio wasn’t working, either.
Fuck.“Roger that. Can you reach Bran?”
“I think so. Hang on.” Kenzie came back on the radio a few seconds later. “He says it’s time for plan B. He says to tell you he’s heading into position.”
“Got it. Thanks, baby.”
Plan B was simple. Everything that could be done at this point had been executed. The third man was out of sight inside. They needed to move in. Bran would be going into the cabin through the attic window. Once he was in position, Chase would breach the back door while Reese went in through the front.
But they couldn’t move until Bran had located Griff’s whereabouts inside the cabin. And without direct radio contact, everything was going to be more difficult.
He thumbed the mic and spoke to Kenzie. “Make sure Bran and Chase both know you’ll be relaying communications.”
“Roger that, already done.”
Reese smiled. The lady was amazing. He started moving into position, getting closer to the front door, careful not to be seen. Chase would be doing the same while Bran roped up to the attic window from a blind spot on the west side of the cabin.
“Bran’s on the roof,” Kenzie said, relaying his message. “The window wasn’t a problem. He’s going inside.”
The radio went silent. Time dragged. The porch light went on, giving Reese a jolt, but no one came out. Through the dirty front window, he could see shapes moving around inside the cabin.
“Griff’s alone in the bedroom,” Kenzie relayed. “Three targets inside. No time to lose. Move into position.”
Gripping his .45 two-handed, Reese moved closer. He was twenty yards from the front door, slipping through the shadows, closing the distance when he heard Kenzie’s frantic voice through his earpiece.
“Plan C! Plan C!” No way she knew what it was, and he didn’t have time to explain. Plan C meant A and B had turned into a serious clusterfuck and each man was on his own, his objective to bring Griff out safely at any cost.
When the front door burst open and Griff bolted out onto the porch, Reese understood. He drew down on the man chasing the boy, but it was too late. A thick arm wrapped around Griff’s neck and hauled him backward against a wide barrel chest. A semiauto pressed against the side of Griff’s head.
“Get back in the house, you little shit!” It was the big guy with the ponytail.
Reese stepped out of the shadows, his pistol aimed at the gunman’s head. “Let him go.”
“Reese!” Griff clawed wildly at the man’s beefy arm.
“Easy, Griff. Stand down. Everything’s going to be okay.”
