The Chaos Kind (John Rain #11)(76)

“A little.”

“Well, he’s right. I do prefer gunfights to be conducted at a proper distance, but circumstances don’t always oblige. You mind my asking how you’re able to get ahold of such great toys on such short notice?”

“I do, actually. A woman should have her secrets.”

He shook his head, amazed. “That’s fair. Please understand, I was asking out of sincere admiration.”

“I know you were. Now, you should go. Good luck to you, always. Maybe we’ll get to meet again.”

“I hope so,” he said. Then he smiled and added, “I think you could teach me a thing or two.”

She returned the smile. “I’m way too old for you to flirt with, young man. But thank you anyway.”

Had he been flirting with her? He hadn’t meant to. Or had he? He gave her a little bow and walked off.

A minute later, he was back in the car and they were moving again. They distributed the contents of the bag. Modular breach charges and tape. KDH Magnum TAC-1 vests. Suppressors. Armor-piercing rounds—9 millimeter for Livia and Larison, .45 for Dox. Tactical gloves. Pry bar. Flashbang grenades. Hemostatic bandages and other medical supplies. Bolt cutters, in case Schrader was chained to a wall. Flex-ties. And a backpack-carried, Agency-issue multispectrum Technical Surveillance Countermeasures unit, which could detect microphones, cameras, and pretty much anything else that bled an electronic signature from up to fifty feet out, through a Bluetooth-connected pair of binoculars.

While Diaz drove, the three of them geared up. Dox hated that Livia was going in with them. He knew what kind of shooter she was—better than he was with a pistol, truth be told, which was saying something, though not as good as Larison—but the whole point of bringing in Larison and stopping Manus was to keep Livia out of this, not to drag her deeper in. But that ship had sailed. The best thing he could do now was to get on his game face, drop everyone in that house, and come out with Schrader.

The Airbnb website had been a big help, given that they included numerous photos of the property, interior and exterior. The plan was to approach through the woods behind the house, use the TSCM gear to confirm no cameras or other electronic countermeasures, and then for Larison to use the external stairs to a second-story porch, where he would use the breach charge to blow a hole in a wall while Dox and Livia went in through a first-floor window, preceded by a flashbang. They’d sweep the house, neutralize the opposition, and hustle Schrader out.

That was the plan, anyway. How it went would likely be another story.





chapter

fifty-six





LIVIA


While Carl was picking up the gear, Livia connected her phone through Carl’s satellite hotspot and called B. D. Little, a contact with Homeland Security Investigations. Not long before, she’d helped him solve the crime that had changed the course of his life—the loss of his teenaged daughter. They knew each other’s secrets. He was one of the few people she trusted.

He laughed when he heard her voice. “Been reading the news from out there,” he said. “I had a feeling I might hear from you.”

She smiled at that. “How’ve you been?”

“Better. Thanks to you.”

“I need a favor.”

“Anything.”

“You heard about Andrew Schrader?”

He laughed again. “Yeah. Busted out of prison. Like I said, I had a feeling I might hear from you.”

“I might need to pay a visit to his Bainbridge Island house. I need to know whether it’s being watched. The Marshal Service, FBI, whoever. Can you find out?”

“That’s easy,” he told her. “We have a central database now. I can check other federal law enforcement deployments right from my desk. Can you hold on?”

“Of course.”

It took him only a few minutes. “It’s clear,” he said. “My guess is, it’s such an obvious place, no one thinks he’d be stupid enough to go there. Besides which, there’s so much interagency finger-pointing on his escape I bet no one’s even put together a coherent plan for recapture. I can monitor things and let you know if anything changes.”

“Yes. Please.”

“You need anything else?”

“Not right now.”

“I wish you did.”

“Well, it’s only right now. It could change.”

He laughed. “Let me know,” he said. “And good hunting.”

Livia had Diaz pull into White River Amphitheater, a place for open-air concerts with a large dirt parking area separated by a short stretch of woods from the house where Schrader was being held. Larison set out wearing the TSCM gear while the rest of them waited.

“Wish we’d gotten the intel just a couple hours earlier,” Carl said, double-checking a backpack with the flashbangs, bolt cutters, and medical supplies inside. “It’d still be dark now. Call me crazy, but I think this kind of job goes down better under cover of darkness.”

Livia gave him a small smile. It had been a good night. But he needed to set aside the afterglow. “Stop worrying about me.”

For a second, she thought he was going to argue. Instead, he nodded and said, “Told you you’re getting to know me well.”

“Remember,” she added, “I’ve probably breached more houses than you.”