“Jerry, goddammit, you still out there?” he said into his mic.
“Quit your nagging,” Jerry finally said in his ear. He wasn’t quite whispering, but it was close. “I’m trying to work here.”
“Report.”
“They’re in the house.”
“Which house?”
“The neighbor’s. One of the neighbors, anyway. I got them cornered inside.”
“What about the dog?”
“Hell if I know. I’ll radio back when I’m done over here.”
“Roger that.”
The earbud went silent, and Jack pushed off the door and walked through the house again.
He liked Jerry. Well, as much as you could like someone you didn’t know existed until five days ago, anyway. He guessed if someone were to press him on it, he didn’t have anything against Jones, either. Not that he minded Jones’s demise too much. Money split two ways was a lot more attractive if his math was correct, and he was pretty sure it was.
The tap-tap-tap of computer keys from the second guest bedroom was a welcoming sound, even though Jack kept one ear open for further reports of gunshots. The fact that he hadn’t heard anything yet meant Jerry had the situation under control. Or, control-ish, anyway. Jerry’s primary weapon, the MP5SD, wouldn’t be audible over this distance, but his handgun wasn’t suppressed. Still, Jerry wouldn’t resort to the sidearm if he didn’t have to.
Jack just hoped Jerry didn’t waste both women in the process. He still preferred to have at least one of them alive as insurance. After all, there was always a chance Walter might suddenly grow some balls. It was a small chance, he had to admit, but it did exist.
He stood in the doorway and watched Walter working, hunched over the laptop at the desk at the back of the room. If the man noticed his presence at all, he didn’t show it. Walter alternated between tapping on the keyboard, using the mouse touchpad, and wiping at beads of sweat that had accumulated on his temple despite the cool night air.
“How’s it going?” Jack finally said.
Walter stopped working and looked over his shoulder. “All right,” he said, his voice wavering slightly.
“Good to hear.” Jack walked across the room. “How much longer?”
“An hour, maybe.”
“Why is it taking so long?”
“It’s complicated,” Walter said. “I have to do it right, one at a time, or it’ll trigger alarms. If that happens—”
“Everything goes up in smoke?”
“Not everything, but a lot of it.” Walter brushed at sweat that was dripping down his chin. “If I miss a single step, it’ll cause problems—”
“Enough,” Jack said. “I don’t need to know about every comma and backspace. Just keep in mind, Walter, that my employer will verify all of this when you’re done, so don’t think you can fuck with us.”
Walter nodded. “Where’s my daughter? Is she okay?”
“Jerry’s looking for her right now.”
Jack waited for Walter to ask about the gunshots, but either he hadn’t heard them or he hadn’t processed their significance.
“Allie?” Walter asked instead.
“Her, too.”
“They’re both fine?”
“For now.” Jack leaned against the back wall and peered through the curtains at the woods that ringed the property. “You should be more concerned about your own welfare.”
Walter didn’t say anything.
Jack looked back at him. “You understand what’s going to happen if you don’t get this done before morning, right?”
“Yes,” Walter said quietly.
“So let’s finish it. The faster you get it done, the faster we can all go our merry ways. And I mean that, Walter. I want nothing more than to get this over with, for you to be reunited with your daughter and girlfriend. I’m sorry about what I did, but you didn’t give me any choice.”
Walter swallowed, but didn’t say anything.
“They’re doing amazing things with plastic surgery these days,” Jack said. “You’ll be fine. I think you can even reattach it.”
Walter might have flinched physically that time.
“Let’s get back to work,” Jack said, and swiveled to face the window again, when he heard it coming from outside the house.
Something that didn’t belong, that shouldn’t have been out there tonight.
Shit, shit, shit, he thought as he moved across the room, picking up speed as he went. “I’ll be right back,” he said. “In the meantime, keep working!”
Walter looked up, but before he could say anything, Jack was already in the hallway. He unslung the Sig556 assault rifle and unfolded the stock until the weapon was at its full thirty-five and a half inches. He flicked the fire selector from safe to full-automatic. Normally Jack preferred to set it to semi or three-round burst in order to conserve ammo, but he didn’t like what he was still hearing, getting louder as it drew nearer.
At the front door for the second time, Jack looked out through the same rectangular glass window, but where there was nothing before there was definitely something now.
There were two of them, and they were coming up the road.
SUVs.
The lead vehicle was black, and it would have melted effortlessly into the surrounding darkness if not for its bright headlights slicing through the night like twin watchtower beacons. The second vehicle was white and would have stood out even minus its headlights.
Not cops. Not even fucking close.
He didn’t know why, but he would have preferred for them to be cops. Maybe because, while that meant the earlier gunshots had attracted unwanted attention after all, the presence of law enforcement would have been expected.
But these two vehicles… There was nothing expected about them.
They parked in the middle of the front yard, blinding headlights flooding the door and the small window Jack was looking out of.
They did that on purpose, he thought as he slipped out from behind the glass so they couldn’t spot him. He leaned against the wall and waited, listening to car doors opening, then slamming loudly shut.
Then a male voice said, “Check the car; make sure it’s empty.”
Jack gritted his teeth. And things were looking up, too. He’d gotten Walter to cooperate, and though he was sure the client wasn’t going to be happy with how he did it, the fact was, he got the job done. That was all that mattered. Wasn’t it?
“Check the back,” the same voice was saying outside the house. “And watch your fire.”
“Shit,” Jack whispered, because “watch your fire” meant the men outside were armed. Not only that, but they had come here with the purpose of taking prisoners — making sure someone lived through this.
That person was, in all likelihood, not him.
Walter.
Of course it would be Walter. Who else would it be? Just as he, Jones, and Jerry had come here for the Gorman and Smith executive, so had these men. It didn’t take a genius to figure that one out. There was no such thing as coincidences tonight.
He reached down with his free hand and keyed his radio. “Jerry, come in.”
He waited, but there was no response.
“Jerry, goddammit, come in.”
The silence in his right ear was deafening now that the newcomers had turned off their car engines in the front yard.
“Jerry!” he hissed.
He gave up on Jerry and put his right hand back on the Sig556. At the same time, he picked up movement flashing across one of the back windows just before a suited figure appeared at the back door, peering in through the side security glass. The darkened face snapped left, then right, before finally spotting—