Sean hid the ATV a mile from the compound. If they had to foot it back to the plane, it was a fifteen-mile hike through unfamiliar terrain. He hid the duffel bag with the bearer bonds a good hundred yards from his ATV, then walked the rest of the way up the road. The night was hot and humid. His T-shirt stuck to his skin under the jacket he wore.
He already knew where the security cameras were, but he had rigged his tablet to give him information as he walked through. Wireless intel that he could use to hack into the system. Information was power, and Sean wasn’t going to go in completely blind.
Movement to his right and left stopped Sean in his tracks. He reached for his gun, then remembered he’d hid it in the bottom of the money bag—and slowly put his hands up.
“Smart move, Mr. Rogan,” an accented voice said.
Four men came into view, all with guns pointed at Sean. He twitched. Any one of them could have nervous fingers. The guns were crap, but that didn’t mean the bullets were faulty. And the closer they were, the more likely they’d hit their target.
“Where’s the money?”
“Hidden.”
“That wasn’t your orders.”
“I’ll tell your boss where to find the money when I know that Kane is alive and well.”
The guard hit Sean across the cheek with the back of his hand. Sean barely resisted hitting him back. He spit bloody saliva on the dirt road.
“Search him,” the leader ordered.
The other three men patted him down, turned out his pockets, took his burn phone and his small tablet, which were the only things on him.
“Walk.”
Sean complied.
The compound entrance was a hundred yards from where Flores’s goons picked Sean up. It was gated with two guards standing outside. Yesterday, when Kane first reconned the place, there had been only one.
Jack knows what he’s doing.
Sean was uncomfortable depending on anyone else for his safety. He’d always gotten himself in and out of jams as needed. But he felt out of his element, and not for the first time over the last forty-eight hours. It wasn’t like he had much choice.
The Flores compound was really a mansion surrounded by twelve-foot-high chain-link fences topped with barbed wire, interspersed with wide stone columns for strength. As they walked up the long drive, Sean noted that there were two wings to the house and several outbuildings, plus a barn, an eight-car garage, and a four-car garage. Sean loved cars, but a dozen?
Was Jesse in the main house or was there a guesthouse Sean couldn’t see? He’d guess the main house, where Flores could keep his eye on Carson Spade.
Anger burned in his veins. That Carson Spade had brought Jesse here, with these criminals—violent thugs who would kill anyone who thwarted their plans. A twelve-year-old boy. Sean had known a lot about the world at twelve. Kane had just left the Marines and was starting Rogan-Caruso with JT. Their first big assignment was a hostage rescue when the sister of one of their friends had been kidnapped along with her professor and three other students during a study-abroad program in Honduras. They’d been held for ransom, and Kane and JT had retrieved four of the five safely. One of the students had been killed, and Sean knew that had bothered both of them greatly. They went through extensive training, both professional and self-taught; expanded the business; brought on Duke to handle computer security after he did his stint in the Army; hired former cops, FBI agents, and soldiers to fill their ranks.
Sean’s parents had been inventors—his dad had served in the military for ten years before a training exercise left him partially disabled. But he loved the military, and came up with new and innovative equipment designed primarily for troop safety. Long-range night-vision goggles, early drone technology, and a state-of-the-art tracking system—at least twenty years ago—had put Paul and Sheila Rogan at the top of the government contractor list. Who knows what they could have accomplished had they not died in a plane crash that nearly killed Sean as well?
His parents never shielded him from the evil in the world, or from the heroes who battled the villains. They were blunt, honest, and dedicated. They worked constantly, and that was one of the things Sean would always remember. In some ways he envied Lucy and her family … her dad had been career military, but Lucy said her happiest moments growing up were family outings—to the beach, camping, or holiday dinners at home. When her parents came to watch her swim meets, when her older sister took her to Patrick’s baseball games, when Patrick took her for ice cream “just because.” But the best, she said, were the family dinners. Even after the older Kincaid kids left home, even after tragedy struck and her nephew was murdered, Sunday night was family night. No matter how busy, they made the time. Sean never had that, even when his parents were alive.