Like my dad told me decades before, I visualize our mission succeeding.
I see us breaching the house, one after another. Within minutes of entering, we find Noelle sitting in a room, completely unharmed. While I pull her into my arms, Ace or Tyler reports into our comms that they found Accetta. That he’s neutralized. That he can’t hurt Noelle again.
Then I bring Noelle home—not to her apartment, fuck no, she’s staying with me—and we begin the slow journey towards her recovery together. I’ll set up counseling, or maybe I’ll bring her to Owl’s retreat for a few weeks instead. Then I’ll convince her to move in with me permanently. And we’ll?—
The helo touches down with a thunk, snapping me back to the present. As Memphis powers down the engine, he glances back at us in the rear. Once we’ve removed our headsets and replaced them with the tiny earpieces we wear during our regular ops, he says, “Soon as you give the signal, I’ll be readyto take off.” He pauses. “And if you need backup, let me know. I may be older than you guys, but I can still pull my weight.”
I nod at him. “Will do. Thanks.” Then I turn to Ace and lift my chin.
Ace raises his hand in a hold gesture. One by one, he meets each of our gazes. “Ready?”
“Ready,” we echo back.
A moment later, his hand comes down.
One after another, we jump to the ground. Without discussion, we start sprinting across the grass, first Ace, then me, then Tyler, and finally, Owl. We stay hunched low, trying to keep as low-profile as possible. I scan our surroundings as we run, searching for any sign of Noelle or the monster who took her.
Acceta’s house grows larger as we approach. It looks well kept, with tidy landscaping and freshly trimmed grass. From the online sales listing, it last sold twenty years ago just under a million, and the estimate puts it worth close to three million now.
We already knew Dario Accetta is a wealthy guy from Tyler’s research, with money coming from inheritances and a string of successful productions in L.A. and London. And seeing this property just solidifies it. Accetta has the funds to orchestrate a kidnapping and do his absolute best to hide it.
If he’d taken anyone else, he probably could have.
But not Noelle. No one is going to fuck with her without me knowing. And I’m damn sure going to make sure that piece of garbage is punished for what he did.
When we reach the six-foot metal fence that surrounds the house and outbuildings, we stop while waiting for Tyler to hack into the security system. He taps away on his phone for two agonizing minutes while I try not to yell at him to go faster.
Then he slides his phone back into his inside vest pocket and says, “All the exterior cameras have been deactivated. I bypassed the alarm system, so it’ll keep showing footage from ten minutes ago. That’s all I found. So we should be clear to go in.”
Ace casts a quick glance at the three of us again before nodding at the fence. “Up and over, then.”
One by one, we hoist ourselves over the fence, then race to the closest cluster of trees to regroup. From here, it’s a fifty-yard run to the deck that wraps around the house. The sliding patio doors to the kitchen are visible, reflecting brightly in the afternoon sun.
After another shared glance, we take off again, this time in the direction of the house. We sprint across the expanse of open grass, eager to get out of view as quickly as possible. Is it likely that Accetta is looking out the kitchen doors right now? No. But it’s not impossible. If we had more time, we could have arranged for a stealthier approach. But we can’t risk waiting.Iwon’t risk waiting.
My heart is racing by the time we reach the exterior of the house, and it’s nothing to do with exertion. While we flatten ourselves to the paneled siding, Tyler pulls out the thermal camera and scans the building.
After several seconds, he frowns. “No heat signatures on the main floor.”
Hope plummets. “What?” I whisper. “No one?” A beat later, another option strikes me. “The basement. The concrete walls…”
Tyler nods. “It’s possible. Unless.” His lips pinch shut.
It feels like a giant fist punched me in the gut. Unless everyone in the house is dead, he didn’t say. But I know it’s possible.
“Same plan,” Ace murmurs. “Webb.” He turns to me. “You want to do the lock? Or one of us?—”
“I’ll do it.” Pulling out my lockpicks, I set to work on the patio door. It’s a little more complicated than the typical one, but I still have it unlocked in under a minute. Then, with a deep breath and a silent plea, I slide open the door.
Like the time we broke into Donaldson’s apartment, the kitchen is quiet and empty. But it doesn’t carry the smell of stillness and death. I catch a whiff of old coffee and a hint of garlic, slightly masked by the fresh scent of dish soap. In the sink, a mug and spoon sit unwashed. On the island, a pile of unopened mail waits.
This house has been lived in. Is still being lived in, if I’d have to bet.
Ace jerks his chin in the direction of a door to our left. There’s a deadbolt on it, which would normally strike me as strange—who deadbolts their basement, after all, unless they have something to hide?
Orsomeone?
Tyler points in the opposite direction, where a hallway awaits. He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t have to. I know what he means.
