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Draven.

Even during an op, the man couldn’t resist being a pain in Blake’s ass.

“I lied.” Blake grinned as he got back to work.

From where he was crouched near the northeast corner of the house, he could see only a fraction of the sprawling estate. The place sat on nearly thirty acres of heavily wooded land in northern Virginia, less than an hour outside D.C. but far enough away to feel like another world.

A twelve-foot stone wall surrounded most of the property. The remaining perimeter was protected by eight-foot wrought-iron fencing topped with anti-climb spikes.

Two electronically controlled gates provided vehicle access from the private road, and both were monitored by cameras with overlapping fields of view.

Motion sensors covered the grounds. Pressure sensors were buried beneath sections of the lawn. Every exterior door and window was alarmed.

At least they were supposed to be.

“Got you,” Blake whispered, tapping the screen. Camera four froze. “Four’s blind. You have ninety seconds before the system catches the interruption and resets.”

“On our way,” Emmett responded.

Echo’s team leader moved first. Draven fell in line behind him, and Blake pushed himself from the wall to follow. Night vision goggles turned the darkened grounds into varying shades of green as the three men moved through a narrow strip of landscaping bordering the rear of the house.

Lucas was positioned farther east, near the tree line, covering their approach while Gwen worked from the western side of the house. Jethro—the man who’d agreed to assist but still refused to become an official member of the team—remained near their exit point along the rear perimeter.

Their objective was simple. Get inside without being detected.

So far, they’d made it through the outer perimeter, across nearly a hundred yards of open ground, and to the house without tripping a single alarm.

That was the good news.

The bad was that they still had to get inside.

“Motion sensor twelve is coming back online,” Blake warned.

“How long?” Emmett immediately asked.

“Twenty seconds.”

Draven crouched beside a row of carefully manicured shrubs. “Route?”

Blake studied the schematic on his screen. “Three feet left, then straight ahead to the retaining wall. Don’t cross the mulch.”

Draven looked down. His right boot hovered less than an inch above the dark landscaping material.

“That was a close one,” the man drawled.

Blake grinned. “You’re welcome.”

Draven shifted left and continued forward. Blake followed, carefully stepping over the narrow strip of mulch.

The sensor buried beneath it wouldn’t trigger an audible alarm. Instead, it would send a silent notification directly to the security company monitoring the estate.

From there, local law enforcement would be dispatched. Considering the homeowner’s identity and net worth, Blake suspected the response time would be measured in mere minutes.

Probably less.

That was a headache none of them needed.

Emmett reached the retaining wall first. Draven and Blake dropped low behind him.