Phase one was complete. Phase two was Losham's house.
The walk to the residential district area took twelve minutes at a pace that was brisk but not suspicious. The Eight moved in pairs, alternating pace and distance from each other, taking different routes that converged three blocks from Losham's property.
It was a clear night. Warm and humid as usual, with a breeze carrying the salt-and-vegetation smell that the collective had known their entire lives. The moon was three-quarters full, which provided enough light for their enhanced eyes to see clearly.
At zero zero twenty, they regrouped behind a garden wall two houses down from Losham's.
The property was more heavily defended than a casual observer would have noticed, which was the point. The two guards at the front entrance were visible, positioned on either side of the door, but the reconnaissance the previous night had revealed others. Two more were concealed in the landscaping along the eastern wall, crouched behind the ornamental hedges with sightlines covering the garden approach. One was positioned on the roof, prone, with a view of the rear yard. And a sixth was tucked into the shadow of the neighbor's garden wall, watching the western flank.
The perimeter patrol added another layer. Three warriors, walking the circuit in a loose triangle formation, each one covering a different angle. The collective had timed their route during the previous night's reconnaissance: fifteen minutes fora full circuit, with the longest gap in coverage occurring when the patrol rounded the far corner of the property. That gap was approximately ninety seconds.
Six hidden guards plus two at the door meant eight immortal minds that needed to be subdued, and the perimeter patrol added three more.
The original plan had been to bypass the ground floor entirely. Enter through the bedroom balcony from the exterior, avoiding the guards and the ground-level defenses altogether. The balcony was on the second floor, an easy climb, and the glass doors opened directly into the master bedroom. It was clean, with minimal exposure and minimal thralling.
That plan had one complication. The alarm system was controlled by a panel inside the house near the front entrance. They couldn't enter through the balcony without first disabling it from the inside, and they couldn't get inside without triggering it. Which meant the front door had to come first, and if they were already inside through the front door, the balcony was pointless.
Number One would go upstairs to the bedroom alone while the others waited on the ground floor. The collective worked just as well across a single staircase as it did shoulder to shoulder.
The hidden guards needed to be dealt with before those standing at the front door, which shouldn't be a problem unless Dave encountered the occasional resistant mind.
The perimeter patrol rounded the corner and began their approach along the side wall. The collective waited, counting seconds, tracking footsteps.
The patrol passed. The gap opened.
Number One and Number Three moved first, crossing the street low and fast, angling toward the eastern wall of the property. They reached the ornamental hedges where the two concealed guards were positioned, and the thralling was applied in one seamless pulse, their minds receiving the same suggestion simultaneously.
There is nothing unusual happening. No one has passed your position. Continue your watch. The night is quiet.
The guards' awareness rippled and smoothed. Their eyes remained open, scanning the darkness, but the two enhanced soldiers crouching three meters away had been edited out of their perception.
Number Five and Number Seven took the western approach, neutralizing the guard behind the neighbor's garden wall with the same ease. The rooftop sentinel required slightly more focus because his mind was more resistant than the others, but they handled it with a single focused pulse. The sentinel's gaze swept past the soldiers moving below as if they were shadows.
Twelve seconds from street to front entrance.
The two guards at the door noticed Number One's approach. One of them shifted his weight, his hand drifting toward his sidearm.
"Stand down," Number One said, and applied the thrall before the guard's fingers touched the weapon.
Both guards received the same message.We are authorized. You will allow us to enter and you will not remember our visit.
The guards relaxed. The one who had reached for his weapon moved his hand back to his side as if he'd merely been adjusting his belt.
Number One opened the front door and stepped inside. Number Three followed, moving immediately to the alarm panel mounted on the wall beside the entryway. The alarm wasn’t armed because Losham was still awake, but it was programmed to activate automatically at one-thirty. He entered the master override code that they had extracted from Losham's head and changed the activation to four in the morning. Hopefully, it was enough time for them to complete the entire sequence.
The rest of the Eight entered behind them, and the four spread out across the ground floor. The kitchen, dining room, and living room each had French doors opening to the garden, and all three rooms had their lights turned off. The study, facing the front of the house, was dark as well. There was light in one of the downstairs bedrooms, but Losham’s assistant was not present.
Then Number One returned to the dining room, approached the glass doors, and stopped.
Losham was outside.
He was sitting in a deep garden chair on the stone patio, facing away from the house, a cigar in his hand. The orange glow of its tip pulsed in the darkness as he drew on it and exhaled a cloud of smoke that drifted upward and dissolved in the breeze.
His legs were crossed at the ankle, his posture indicating that he had settled in for a while, and he was not alone.
The others joined Number One, and the collective watched through the glass as Losham's assistant set a crystal tumbler on the small table beside him, along with a bottle that gleamedamber in the moonlight. Rami poured a generous measure for Losham and placed another cigar next to the glass.
Losham wasn't even done with the one he was smoking. Did he intend to light up the second? It would take him another hour to finish.
