No one else spoke, and Cade glanced back at Tristan, seeing that his shoulders had relaxed. Tristan leaned to him and whispered, "Thank you," and Cade felt at that moment he had made the right decision.
"Okay, anything else?"
"Nope. Let's go kill some bad guys," Rodriguez said enthusiastically.
"Okay," Cade concluded, "Everyone grab what they need, then we'll check in with Hamm and go."
The three other agents entered Annabeth's van and exited shortly after with weapons, and in Tag's case, high-tech goggles. Cade went in after they finished, slipping a new magazine into his Glock and tucking the piece into his waistband at his back. He also slipped on a black leather jacket to cover his gun, then emerged from the van and scanned for Tristan, relieved when he found him talking to Rodriguez while the blond dickface kept his distance.
They all hooked up to comms, with the agents using invisible earpieces and Annabeth donning a headset in the van. She checked in with Hamm, and when they got the go-ahead, she and Kate stayed behind as the five men got into the car, with Cade behind the wheel, Tag in the front passenger seat, and Tristan squeezed between Taylor and Rodriguez in the back. Within two minutes, they werealmost at the house's driveway, and since the plan called for the other three agents to approach the back of the house on foot, Cade stopped to let them out.
Now that they were close to the house, Cade's fear for Tristan rose again, and he twisted in his seat and sternly told the other man, "Get down on the floor so no one can see you. While I'm parked at the house, keep your head low and stay hidden. When it's safe, I'll come to you. Do not get out until I get you," he emphasized before asking, "Understand?"
"Yes," Tristan responded before folding himself into a ball on the floor of the back seat.
According to plan, Cade turned into the long tree-lined, gravel driveway and parked in front of the house next to two other cars. As he opened the door, Tristan whispered, "Be careful. Okay?"
The earnest concern for his safety did funny things to Cade's insides, and wanting to reassure the other man, he answered, "I will be. It's going to be fine. It will be over soon, I promise."
Taking a deep breath and mentally reviewing the procedure again, Cade got out of the car, adjusted his jacket and approached the porch, throwing one last look over his shoulder to inspect the car and convince himself that Tristan was well-hidden. Seeing nothing from the blackness inside the vehicle, he set aside his reservations and focused on his task.
When Cade pounded on the front door, a guy answered the door and glared at him. He was about Cade's height, with a big gut, slicked-back brown hair, and a pockmarked face. The hand he hid behind the door no doubt concealed a gun.
"The fuck you want? We didn't order no food."
Cade did his best to sound like a lackey for a shitbag criminal. "I'm here to check the product for the auction. The Handler told my boss I could."
The man studied him for a minute. "The Handler didn't tell me no one was coming."
"How the fuck is that my problem, dude? My boss wants me to check the product, I'm checking the fucking product."
"What are you supposed to check it for?"
"To make sure it's as advertised. A rough ruby."
"There's fucking pictures online."
"Yeah, but my boss is worried you dyed her hair or something. I'm supposed to check she's a natural redhead and a virgin. My boss is a paranoid dickhead."
"The Handler didn't say... "
"You think the Handler cares about this petty shit, man?" Cade spat out, knowing full well the Handler would care very much about what was about to go down, but fairly confident this goon was too stupid to figure that out.
"My boss wants to bid a shit-ton of money. Let me peek at her, and I'll be out of here in five minutes. My boss is happy, bids a lot of money, then your boss is happy, and I still have a job. The Handler said it was okay. Come on, man. My boss can be a real prick when he doesn't get what he wants."
"Fine, whatever," the guy relented. "But gimme your piece first."
Cade silently cursed. He'd figured this was a possibility, that he'd have to go in unarmed, but he'd hoped the guy would be a bit more clueless. He reached back and pulled his Glock from his waistband, holding it by the barrel instead of the grip when he handed it over.
The guy slipped the gun into his own waistband, then said, "Lift your shirt so I can see you ain't wearing no wire."
"Jesus, fuck, man," Cade fake groused as he lifted his shirt and turned around in a circle.
"Pantlegs too," the guy insisted.
"Fucking paranoid bastard, aren't ya?" Cade spat out as he lifted his pants.
When the thug was satisfied, he opened the door wider to let Cade in. As expected, he was holding his own firearm.
