Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 87067 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87067 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
“No sign of our target?” Noah inquired, though there was the slightest waver in his voice as if he were struggling not to laugh.
“None.” JB started to turn for the ladder but stopped and silently swore to himself. He quickly crossed the room, trying so hard not to look too closely at anything. Plucking the dart from the doll’s chest, JB hurried to his escape route while tucking the silver dart into one of his pockets. “Am I still clear?” he asked as he hit the lights and replaced his goggles.
“Zorro is in the kitchen. You’re clear,” Rowe replied. JB smiled to himself, not at all surprised that Rowe had entered the guest house as backup. Owen was probably lurking nearby as well.
JB climbed the ladder and immediately spotted Rowe completely swathed in black standing with his back partially turned to the pantry, watching for any signs of an intruder to their little party. He twisted around as JB reached the kitchen and flashed him a thumbs-up, then returned to his watch. The night-vision goggles might have covered most of his face, but Rowe was almost one of the shortest members of their team. His stocky frame was hard to mistake.
“Zorro and team are ready,” Rowe said as JB closed the door to the sex dungeon and shut the pantry door. He wasn’t going to worry about retrieving the potatoes. Let that be a nice surprise when Dillinger descended into his sin pit again. Just seeing those potatoes, he’d know that JB or one of JB’s accomplices had invaded his private space. That they knew his secret.
“All right. Move. Everyone has one minute to get into position,” Noah barked in a soft voice.
JB followed Rowe and Owen, who had remained in the living room, out of the guest house. They crouched as low as they could while running through the shadows toward the main building. He shoved the goggles to the top of his head. There was enough ambient light outside for him to see on his own. Water burbled and lapped against the sides of the pool. Crickets chirped their evening serenade, but otherwise everything remained quiet on the ranch.
Time was ticking, though. At best, they had twenty minutes from the time the first man was tranq’ed, and it was more likely far less than that. They needed to get in and out fast before an alarm was raised.
Sadly, the house wasn’t designed with a hell of a lot of entrances. From what plans Cole and his team had been able to pull, there were only three. Unfortunately, the door through the garage wasn’t an option due to the amount of noise it would make. That left them with the rear door off the veranda into the morning room and through the front fucking door.
JB, Rowe, and Owen were headed for the back door while Noah, Garrett, Benjamin, and Royce were stuck with the front door. If necessary, Noah’s team would provide a distraction for Rowe’s team to sweep in from behind and take the others down.
Naturally, their well-laid plan had to go to shit at just that moment.
As Rowe led the way onto the veranda and reached his hand out for the door, it opened. A man in a white Stetson hat and plaid shirt stepped out with an unlit cigarette pinched between his lips. In one hand, he held a lighter. He’d picked that exact moment to step outside for a smoke.
Everyone froze for a heartbeat in shock, but Owen woke from their shared paralysis first, shooting a dart right into the man’s stomach. He grunted, stumbling a step into the doorframe. He looked at the silver dart sticking out of his gut. “What the fuck?” he mumbled, the cigarette falling from his lips to tumble across the floor of the veranda. He blinked twice and slid down the wall, unconscious.
But he wasn’t alone.
“Clint? What the fuck!” a man’s voice shouted from inside the house.
“Fuck,” Rowe snarled. “Go! Everyone go now! We’re blown!”
JB followed Rowe’s charge into the morning room. The former Ranger dropped two men rushing into the kitchen with darts and then kept moving through the room. Rowe swept right while JB moved left. Owen was to hang back in their shadow, performing cleanup and cover.
There was a loud bang, and JB knew that Noah had kicked in the front door. The man was not about to leave his crazy boyfriend to have all the fun. Of course, it was also about making sure Rowe didn’t get his ass shot.
With his rifle tucked against his shoulder, JB blocked out the noise and his focus narrowed tightly to anything that moved. It was a skill that he’d picked up while a Ranger, and he’d never expected to apply it again when he was in Texas.
Only on the periphery of his mind was he aware of white furniture, lush potted plants, and expensive knickknacks. There were carpets and hardwood floors. White walls and colorful artwork.