Nate removed them from his pack, attached the clip that contained an extra three darts beyond the one already chambered, and handed one of the weapons to Quinn.
“Left to right, one, two, and three,” Quinn said. “You take one, I’ll take two, and whoever gets there first gets three.”
Nate grinned. “We both know who that’ll be.”
Quinn placed his dart gun’s barrel against a tree to steady it, and then aimed through the scope at target number two.
“Set,” Nate said.
“Set,” Quinn echoed. “Ready. Now.”
Together they pulled their triggers, each man keeping an eye on their target to make sure their shot hit home. Quinn’s man staggered backward, his hand grasping at the dart, but before he could pull it out, he collapsed on the ground.
Quinn immediately moved his scope to target number three, but as he was lining up his shot, he heard the pfft of Nate’s gun again, and a second later number three was on the ground.
“Told you,” Nate said.
“Keep up the cocky attitude and you’ll have firsthand knowledge of what these darts do to you.”
After Nate reshouldered his backpack, they sprinted across the street and dropped into a shallow ditch that lined the other side of the road. They made a quick study of the grounds but saw no one, so they headed toward the side of the house.
Partway there, they came across the first of the sleeping sentries. Together, they moved him to the other side of a leafless hedge so he wouldn’t be noticed by any community patrols driving by. The other two they didn’t need to worry about. They’d been farther in on the property and were lost in the darkness.
When the cleaners reached the house, Quinn pointed at Nate and then at the rear corner. With a nod, Nate headed there while Quinn moved to the front of the house. Very carefully, he leaned around the edge and searched the yard. Once he was sure the area was clear, he headed back to Nate’s position.
His former apprentice held up two fingers, and then pointed at an angle through the wall at two different spots to show Quinn where the guards were located. After silently deciding who was responsible for whom, they dropped all the way to the ground and eased around the corner.
“Set,” Nate whispered.
“Ready. Now.”
At the exact second Quinn pulled the trigger, his target moved. Not a problem if the dart traveled as fast as a bullet, but at its subsonic speed, it sailed harmlessly behind the man’s back. It did not, however, do so in complete silence.
As the sentry whirled around to see what had made the sound, Quinn pulled the trigger again. This time the man did not get out of the way.
Five down.
Nate took the lead as they followed the property line to a group of hibernating shrubs that delineated the back end. There, they got their first good look at the rear of the house.
Just like the plans showed, a two-story wing stuck straight out along the southern edge of the house. The only window on the property emitting any light was the one corresponding to the second-floor office.
Quinn carefully swept his goggles from one side of the property to the other. The only heat signatures he was picking up were those of the unconscious guards. There was still one side of the house they hadn’t checked yet, though — the south. They crept along the bushes until the wing was no longer blocking their view.
A sixth sentry was about midway along the side.
“I got this,” Nate said.
Quinn didn’t argue. Nate’s marksmanship had won him the opportunity, so Quinn stayed by the bushes and watched. Nate retraced their path until he was out of the man’s potential sightline before cutting across the lawn toward the back of the wing section.
That’s when Quinn saw the guard move. Nothing fast, not a reaction to having heard Nate, but the man did start walking toward the back of the house. That would have been something Nate could easily handle, but then the guy plucked something off his belt. When he held it up to his mouth, Quinn realized it was a radio, and knew their stealth arrival was on the verge of being exposed.
Since it was impossible for Nate to get into position for a shot in time, Quinn didn’t even bother clicking on his mic. Instead he rushed forward and closed the distance between him and the sentry.
The man still had his walkie-talkie at his mouth when he spotted Quinn. The radio dropped as he went for the gun on his belt.
Quinn pulled the trigger of his D-gun, sending a dart zipping through the air. The man tried to duck but the tip caught his shoulder, only an inch from his neck. His hand flew up and yanked it free.
Quinn shot again, hitting the sentry in the chest this time.
The man staggered to his left, bumping into the side of the house as he tried to rip out the second dart. Though he was able to extract it, he was too late. Enough of the tranquilizer had already entered his system, causing him to crumble to the ground before he could even drop the dart.
Nate rushed around the wing and reached the man at almost the same time Quinn arrived.
“What happened?” Nate whispered.
Quinn picked up the man’s radio and showed it to his partner. He was about to put it back on the ground when it crackled to life.
“Mr. Richards, what’s going on out there? Sounded like something just hit the house.” When there was no immediate answer, the voice said, “Mr. Richards, come in, please. I want to know what’s going on out there.”
Boyer, Quinn thought.
Having no choice, he snatched up the radio and said in a hushed voice, “Sorry, sir. One of the men slipped.” It was as good an excuse as any. Several patches of snow had turned to ice, some very close to the house.
“Jesus,” Boyer said. “Tell your people to watch their fucking step! I’m trying to work here.”
“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.”
Quinn waited for Boyer to say more, but apparently the man was done. The cleaner turned the volume way down, put the walkie-talkie into his pocket, and motioned for Nate to follow.
As they passed beneath the lit office window, they could hear snippets of Boyer’s voice.
“…sure of that?…tell if the congressman…Wednesday. No, no. Wednesday…doesn’t matter. What does is if that asshole….Exactly…”
Upon reaching the door into the wing section, Quinn retrieved a device identical to the one Orlando had used at Eli’s townhouse, and used it to deactivate the alarm in a way that would not alert Boyer to their actions. He then stepped out of the way and let Nate pick the lock.
Just inside was a well-lit mudroom that made use of the goggles no longer necessary. Quinn noted only a single jacket on the hooks, all but confirming Boyer was alone.
After trading their dart guns for the SIGs, they proceeded into the hallway that ran the length of the wing. At the end, where the annex met the house, was a set of stairs.
Quinn went first as they headed up, quick and quiet, and emerged into an open area with a couch, a few chairs, and a television. Beyond was a shorter hallway running against the south side of the building. Two doors on the north side, with a third straight back at the very end of the hall, light leaking from under it.
They stopped at the other two doors only long enough to make sure no one was inside before walking to the end.
“…care. We can’t do it that way and you know it,” Boyer was saying. Though his voice wasn’t raised, his words were delivered in a way that said: Don’t mess with me. “Tell them to get it done, and then get the goddamn information to the client. I don’t want to hear about this again. Am I understood?….Good.”
When Quinn was sure the call was over, he gave Nate a quick nod and pushed the door open.
Boyer turned to them as quickly as his girth would allow. “Who authorized you to come in here?”