“I’m fine. Really. I appreciate your honesty.” She leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Gator. I need to do a walk around.”
Pete walked in as if on cue to join her.
* * *
Martin worried about Cassie while he walked the perimeter of the house. A Fairfax County building department truck was parked beside a van from Ray Hedgecock’s construction company at the pool house. It struck him as odd since it was well after the close of business, and there was no emergency construction order. “Post 1, when did the building department and Hedgecock Construction get here?” Martin tapped his earpiece.
“Thirty minutes ago. Problem, sir?” the gate guard answered.
“How many occupants?” Martin asked.
“Two each. Problem, sir?” the guard asked again.
“Not yet. Medic 1, secure the package.”
“Roger,” Pete said.
“Security 3. Respond to the pool house.” Even with his sunglasses, the afternoon glare was blinding. Martin ducked behind a large bush.
A man with a heavy Russian accent was speaking with another man, both dressed suitably for a construction site with one glaring exception: both wore expensive leather shoes. “The journal has to be in the master bedroom. The housekeeper just went out. Everyone else is at the funeral home, so no one should be inside.”
The other man responded with no accent, “Just don’t talk. Watch the cameras.” He directed a laser pointer at the closest camera, blinding it. “And be ready. We cannot have any interference. We need that book.”
Martin grimaced. “Epsilon alert, four tangos. Repeat, Epsilon alert, four tangos. Pool house and house path,” Martin whispered into his com. With his MK23 in hand, he maintained cover and waited.
“Security 1, we are getting interference on camera 7,” the communications desk reported.
“Roger.” Martin watched them move past him before stepping out from his position. “Don’t move.” Both stopped in their tracks. “On your knees.” The larger of the two started to kneel before he spun, raising his gun. Martin fired, dropping him. “On your knees!” he yelled at the second man.
Armed, Tucker appeared with three members of the security team. The second intruder knelt. “Interlock your hands behind your head!” Tucker roared.
“Two in custody at the pool house,” a woman’s voice rumbled through Martin’s com.
Patting them down, Martin found each man carried a Russian-issued Makarov silenced pistol and a small package of RDX—the same plastic explosive that destroyed part of the Chase Group building. “Son of a bitch. We need to secure him. Epsilon alert canceled—three tangos in custody. One tango KIA,” Martin went over the Chase Security estate channel.
Zach, Julian, and Mike arrived before Martin, Tucker, and the bad guy reached the back door. “Heard you had a little trouble.” Zach took control of a prisoner.
Martin’s tone defied the lightness of his words. “Nothing we couldn’t handle. We have another problem: all four tangos carried RDX.”
“Dogs called?” Mike asked.
“Not yet.” Martin looked toward the house.
“Go take care of the package. I’ve got it from here,” Julian said.
With a brisk nod, Martin went to join Cassie. The fear in her eyes almost knocked him off his feet. She wasn’t afraid for herself. She was scared for him—afraid for everyone but herself. “We’re all fine, Gator.” He hugged her.
“Just another day in paradise.” Pete winked. “How about some dinner?”
Cassie shook her head. “Maybe later. I think I’d like to go lie down.”
* * *
The second session of the wake was about to begin when Cassie watched Martin call Ian to give him a situation report. The strain in Martin’s voice was evident. “She’s here. She’ll tell you.”
“Hi, handsome. I’m fine, had a good nap. I swear, Martin is taking care of me. I got to formally meet Julian and Zach. Mike is here too. I swear they’re all almost as bad as you, Hornet,” Cassie soothed.
