Scarlett nodded. ‘Kate can be our lookout while we search the place for Gayle.’
‘First priority is to get Gayle out, then find Sweeney,’ Marcus said. ‘I say we give ourselves until 11.30 to find Gayle. If not, I go to the meet as agreed, miked up so that you all can hear. If Kate can safely find a new tree in time, she should. Otherwise, she’s Adam’s backup on the ground.’
Once they had a visual lock on Gayle, they were to shoot Sweeney to injure, but not to kill. Not unless Sweeney did something stupid, like attempt a double-cross, and then all bets were off and Adam and Kate were to do whatever necessary to bring the bastard down.
Scarlett and Deacon were to remain far enough back so that their presence would go undetected. Unless, again, something went wrong with the trade, or Sweeney simply started shooting. Then they’d sweep in and, like Adam and Kate, do whatever needed to be done to stop him. Not allowing Sweeney to escape was the one thing they’d all agreed on. Either they brought him in alive or they took him down. Permanently.
Marcus gave Scarlett a frighteningly sober look as he added into the speaker phone, ‘And, guys, if it comes down to saving only one of us, choose Gayle. Promise me.’
There was silence on the line. Scarlett’s lips tightened. She wasn’t entertaining that as a possibility. If she did, she’d crack and be utterly useless to everyone.
Finally Deacon sighed. ‘All right,’ he said quietly. ‘But let’s pray this McCord address is the right place.’
Scarlett cleared her throat. ‘If it is the right place, we storm the castle instead of walking into a slaughter.’
‘Not to be too particular,’ Deacon commented, ‘but what exactly does storming the castle entail?’
Scarlett hesitated. ‘Assessing the perimeter first. We can at least check out the house and the property on Google Earth. Then we find a way in, find Gayle and get out.’
‘In other words,’ Diesel drawled, ‘you really have no flippin’ idea.’
‘Pretty much,’ Scarlett admitted. ‘We’ll play it by ear. It’ll be dicey, but at least we’re following our plan, not a response to his.’
‘I’ll contact Kate and Adam,’ Deacon said. ‘I’ll leave Adam in place and have Kate call you to coordinate. I’ll meet you at the McCord address in twenty.’
Cincinnati, Ohio
Wednesday 5 August, 11.05 P.M.
‘The wall’s at least a hundred yards long on each side,’ Kate Coppola said as she jogged up to where Scarlett and Marcus stood next to the car they’d parked at the edge of the property to which Leslie McCord had led them. ‘Maybe half that widthways. Encloses about an acre.’
Kate had arrived ten minutes earlier and, her rifle strapped to her back, had attempted a perimeter check. Deacon was still ten minutes out. Scarlett checked her phone. They were very quickly running out of time to figure out a way in. Hopefully Sweeney was still in there and they could catch him coming out.
‘The wall is eight inches thick and ten feet high,’ Kate continued, ‘with high-voltage wire on top. There’s an iron gate at the end of a long tree-lined driveway. Remote-controlled. I didn’t see a guard shack inside, but my angle was bad so there could have been one.’
‘Cameras?’ Scarlett asked.
‘I counted at least sixteen of them on the side of the wall I could see, evenly spaced along the outer perimeter, and they’re active. The high-voltage wire is live. I climbed a tree and got a decent view of the interior, but none of the limbs extend over the walls, so there’s no entry that way. Good news,’ she finished, ‘is that with all this security, this is probably Sweeney’s place.’
‘But bad news,’ Scarlett said grimly, ‘is that it’s a fucking fortress.’
Marcus closed his eyes on a wave of palpable despair, but his voice remained strong. ‘Are you sure the wire fence is live?’
‘I could hear it humming,’ Kate replied briskly, but there was sympathy in her eyes.
He nodded, eyes open and alert once more. ‘What else?’
‘The wall itself only encloses the house and an attached garage,’ Kate said. ‘There’s a chain-link gate in the back wall that opens to the rest of the property. I didn’t run the entire perimeter, so I can’t tell you how many acres it covers, only that it’s enclosed by a twelve-foot chain-link fence, also high-voltage, also live.’
‘If the property database is correct,’ Marcus said, ‘the entire property is just under forty acres. I ran a quick check as we were driving here. The owner is listed as Kenneth Spiegel, forty-eight years old.’
‘Kenneth Spiegel, Kenneth Sweeney,’ Kate said. ‘At least he did us the courtesy of keeping his first name in his alias.’
‘The age is about right too,’ Scarlett added, ‘assuming Kenneth is the man in the photos with Alice.’
‘Did you get a photo of Kenneth Spiegel?’ Kate asked.
Marcus said. ‘Not yet. Deacon’s having Isenberg’s clerk search the DMV database. Spiegel still exists – as a name, anyway. He’s on record as paying the property taxes every year. He assumed ownership from Martha Spiegel – his mother – twenty-two years ago, when he was twenty-six. It appears this land has been owned by Spiegels for a hundred years. The primary residence is a six-bedroom, three-and-a-half-bath Tudor-style home with a six-car garage, just under four thousand square feet.’
‘That’s what I saw within the walls,’ Kate agreed. ‘The back part of the property is mostly forested, but I did see two sheds through the chain-link fence. One is normal-sized – for shovels and stuff – and the other is large, with a high ceiling, almost like a building you’d see at a state fair.’
‘Lots of places to hide one small woman,’ Scarlett muttered.
‘She’s likely being kept in the basement,’ Marcus said, ‘based on the video he sent us. The cage was on a concrete floor and the walls in the background were unfinished.’
‘And the sound echoed a little,’ Scarlett added. ‘I’d start looking there once we get in.’
‘Did you see any sign of people?’ Marcus asked. ‘Guards specifically?’
‘Not walking around,’ Kate said, ‘but there have been people there recently. There’s trash in the cans outside and one of the garage doors is up. I took some photos.’ She handed over her phone, and Scarlett and Marcus flipped through the pictures, confirming what she had described.
‘Any ideas of how we get in?’ Scarlett asked.
Marcus shook his head, his shoulders sagging. ‘No,’ he murmured.
Scarlett curled her hand around his forearm. ‘Then we wait for him to come out. If he hasn’t left yet, he’ll have to come through the front gate. We put Kate up in the tree and she can take him out with a head shot, assuming his vehicle isn’t fitted with bullet-resistant glass. If we can’t take him out, we disable the car and physically ambush him.’
Marcus lifted his head. Stared at her for a moment, hope in his eyes. ‘We have to get him before he knows we’re coming. Kate?’
Kate checked the time. ‘Deacon will be here soon, but the SWAT guys are still twenty minutes out. I really want the backup.’
‘But Sweeney might leave for the meet before they get here,’ Marcus protested.
‘Kate, let’s get as close to the front gate as we can without setting off the security, and find our positions,’ Scarlett bargained. ‘We won’t move in until backup arrives, unless Sweeney’s vehicle comes through the gate. Does that work?’
Kate considered it for a split second longer. ‘Yeah, that works.’
‘Then let’s go,’ Marcus said, his jaw clenched. ‘How do we avoid the cameras?’
‘I hid in the tree cover. I assume it worked because nobody shot at me. Follow me.’
Scarlett gave his arm another squeeze. ‘You heard the woman, soldier. Fall in.’
Cincinnati, Ohio
Wednesday 5 August, 11.10 P.M.
Ken logged out of his bank account and closed his laptop before turning to look down at his son, who lay on the floor shivering, despite the heat in the garage. Bound hand and foot, Sean boasted fewer fingers and toes than he’d had before they’d started.