Adriana worked the wheel around to starboard, aiming the bow at a smaller silhouette a few miles off the coast of Corsica. From this distance, they couldn’t see much more than a few flickering lights.
“Better veer around that way,” he said, pointing off to the right. “Looks like we’re right in the line of sight of the compound.”
She’d already decided to do that but let him feel like it was his idea. They’d covered up the lights on the boat to make it less visible. But in the moonlight, they could still be seen if someone was looking, especially with the sound of the motor and the foamy white wake that trailed after them. It helped that the boat had a dark blue exterior. Only the hull was white, which would stand out like a spotlight in the clear conditions. With the storm approaching from the west, Adriana hoped they could use it for cover. Sure, the chop and the wind would make coming into land much more difficult, but it would also keep them hidden. As the craft sliced through the sea and around to the west of the island, the lights of Martens’s mansion disappeared behind an outcropping of trees.
Diego leaned forward into the wind, peering through the darkness for a place along the shore where they could make land. “There,” he said after a few fruitless minutes of searching. “That beach should work.”
Adriana shifted the lever and slowed the boat’s speed to just above an idle. She kept it there until the depth finder started dropping dramatically and then slowed the engines again. The boat rocked forward and back in the waves as she brought it to a stop a few hundred feet from shore.
She hit the button to drop the anchor, and the machine began to whine. Then she spun around, grabbed her rucksack, and rechecked the contents one last time before turning to her father. “Be ready,” she said. “When I’m coming, I’ll be coming fast.” Adriana walked over to the Sea-Doo and hit the button to begin lowering it into the water. She mounted the watercraft as it moved downward and gave one last glance back at her father. He smiled at her from the shadows of the cabin and put up his right hand with palm open.
There were no I love you's, no goodbyes, just the still wave of a hand. Diego hadn’t always been the most affectionate person, and he kept his emotions in check more than anyone she’d ever met, but Adriana knew her father loved her. He’d made her what she was. Losing her mother had been hard on them both. It had destroyed him for a time, and when he rebuilt himself, Diego was never the same. He was numb. Not cold, just distant like his heart was in a far-off place never to return. Adriana understood. She missed her mother dearly but couldn’t imagine what her father had gone through.
With it just being the two of them, he’d done the best he could. And now, it was time for her to make sure they would be safe. She wasn’t wrong, and Diego knew it. Martens had to be taken down. If not, they would never be safe. As he watched her descend into the water and start the watercraft’s engine, he thought about what she’d said regarding the Syndicate. Martens was only one of many. He wondered who some of the other members were and if they knew who he and Adriana were. If that were the case, would they be safe even after killing Martens? There was no way to know. Right now, all Diego wanted to do was look at his daughter as she sped away through the waves toward the beach, disappearing into the night.
Adriana never looked back. She was on a mission now. The sea’s waves rocked her body back and forth as she sped toward the landmass ahead. The journey took less than ninety seconds, ending with her running the watercraft aground into the soft white sand. She patted her side to make sure the long knife was still in its sheath. Next she removed her .40-caliber Springfield from her rucksack, rechecked the magazine for the third time, and then slid two more into slots on her belt. One last check to make sure everything in the rucksack was secure, and Adriana took off into the woods, disappearing into the shadows.
20
Stefan Martens’s compound was an elaborate piece of property. Short white walls that matched the exterior of the mansion surrounded the main building. It was a design Adriana was familiar with but didn’t care for. Now she liked it even less, knowing that the man responsible for her father’s abduction owned it.
The perimeter wall was abutted by a dense forest of trees and shrubs. A thin strip of lawn wrapped around it, ending in a row of landscaping featuring local bushes and flowers. She peeked over the four-foot wall and into an enormous yard that stretched another hundred feet to the primary dwelling. She searched the property for a guardhouse, but there was none. A pool was off to the left of the mansion, attached by a set of brick stairs. The only other building on the premises was a tiny cabana-style pool house that matched the design of the home itself.
Off to the right, she noticed some movement and instinctively ducked back down. Peeking over the top of the wall again, she realized it was a guard. The man wore a black T-shirt and matching cargo pants. Always in black, she thought. She wore the dark color to help keep from being too visible. Adriana suspected security guards wore it to appear more threatening since black was perceived to be something tough people wore.
It did little to put her off. The guard she’d spotted was meandering around the eastern wall of the house. He had a bored yet stern look on his face. Her head twisted back to the left. She scanned the area for another guard but was surprised to find none. Either Martens was confident no one knew he was there, or he wasn’t worried about someone coming after him. Adriana had a sneaking suspicion that what she was seeing was only scratching the surface.
She reached into her bag, sliding her fingers into an inner pouch that contained three metal discs. When she felt one of them, she pulled it out and slipped it into her back pocket. The device was about the size of a watch battery, tiny and almost completely unnoticeable in her pants. She’d used the mini-flash bangs before to escape certain death. Adriana hoped she wouldn’t have to again any time soon, but being prepared couldn’t hurt. Ideally, though, she could carry out her mission quietly.
Staying low to the ground, Adriana crept along the outer wall, making her way up and around to the eastern side where she’d seen the guard. Every fifteen feet or so, she’d take a quick look over the top and make sure the guy was still there. He’d been pacing back and forth for the last few minutes, walking over to the front door and then back to the shadows under the shade of a large tree whose branches hung over the wall. As she drew closer, she noticed the guard had stopped near the corner of the house. His sudden change in pattern froze her in place, but she soon realized why he’d halted.
A bright yellow flash illuminated his face for a second. A circular orange glow radiated on and off. He was taking a smoke break. Adriana watched as the man’s hand went down to his side and then back up, each time brightening the burning end of the cigarette as he drew in a puff of smoke. A bluish gray haze hung around his face for a second and then wafted away into the dry evening air.
She was thirty feet away but could still smell the stale scent of cheap tobacco. Her fingers loosed the knife from its sheath while the other hand shoved her pistol in the back of her pants. As soon as the guard turned around to walk back in the other direction, she would sneak up behind him and take him down. Halfway through with his cigarette, the guard dropped it on the ground and mashed it with a twisting of his foot. He turned back toward the entrance of the white mansion and started slogging his way along a concrete path.