I nodded. “They’re casing us, even now.”
Brutus snarled. “Thermal imaging.”
Thuh-thunk.
Thuh-thunk.
The most rhythmic death drum on the planet. “Do you know how we combat heat sensors like that?”
His grin was slow. “Darkness?”
I pointed to the wall. “And mylar blankets. See those foil squares? Grab three of them for each of us.”
Brutus wrinkled his nose as he scooped a few out of the literal glass jar I had mounted on the wall. “These little things are blankets?”
“Thermal mylar blankets,” I said as I took three of them and shoved them into my pockets. “Goggles?”
“Where the hell do ya keep ‘em, Doc?”
I spotted them up in the corner and pointed. “There. Grab two of them.”
Brutus walked over and plucked it down like it was nothing. “Here.”
“Thanks.”
Thuh-thunk.
Thuh-thunk.
My gaze flickered over to Brutus. “Basement. Not the panic room.”
I stared him down, hoping he read between the lines. He saddled the night vision goggles on his head before taking one last look at the pitiful foil squares in his palm. He stuffed theminto his pants pocket, then flipped the goggles down. Except, he didn’t turn on the night vision portion or anything.
And at the angle he stood, his overblown eyes blinked like something out of an eighties sci-fi horror film.
I couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Are you fuckin’ kidding me?” Brutus scoffed as he flipped the goggles back up onto his head. “Laughing? At a time like this?”
“Come on, big guy,” I said with a snicker as I slipped my own night vision goggles on.
And then, the journey to the basement started.
Weirdly enough, the thunking of the bullets stopped. I yanked out my cell phone to check every single camera that Ranger had set up not only along the perimeter, but along the house. I searched for glares, shadows, movement. Anything I could see that may give me an inkling of an idea as to how many people had this fucking place surrounded.
There was nothing, though.
“Maybe they just don’t have an angle on us,” I muttered as I reached for the basement door.
“What was that, Doc?” Brutus asked.
I didn’t make it a habit of not answering my brother’s questions.
But at that moment, I ignored all questions and pretense as I eased the basement door open and held my scoped pistol out in front of me.
“Stay close,” I whispered.
My training came screeching back in a hurry. My footsteps, silenced. My body, pivoting to clear corners. Taking the harsh ninety-degree landing left me with practical motion sickness with how quickly I turned to scan my eyes over the basement. Brutus hovered over me from behind, his gun pointed over my shoulder, ready to steady himself should he have to.
