The Rescue(103)

“It’s not a bomb,” said Harcourt before lowering his voice and turning away from Frist. “Dutch. Any way that package can get to the house?”

“Negative. It’s already in the trees,” he said. “About six hundred feet from the southern fence line. One of the spotters hit it with a range finder.”

“And the parachutists?”

“They landed a lot farther back.”

“I want every single man available out there,” said Harcourt. “I don’t want them getting anywhere near me.”

“How many do you want to keep back?”

“Just you,” said Harcourt. “Lock the house down hard. Nobody comes back inside until Decker and his associate are dead.”

“Sir. I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” said Dutch. “I’d feel more comfortable with a small team. Just in case.”

“Four men, plus yourself. Keep them in one place. I don’t need a bunch of yahoos running around.”

“Understood, sir.”

“What’s your plan to keep them from reaching us?” said Harcourt.

“I have four ATVs on the way, three men each,” said Dutch. “I want to get to that package before Decker does. I’ll bring the rest up in a skirmish line spanning the estate with teams in reserve.”

“Sounds like you could hold off a battalion.”

“As long as we get to that package first. God knows what they brought with them.”

“Make it happen, Dutch,” said Harcourt. “I’ll be in the study.”

“I’d be happier if you retreated to the safe room.”

“I have complete confidence in you and the team assembled. Keep me posted,” said Harcourt, placing the radio on the desk.

“Copy that, sir,” squawked the radio.

Frist was already at the bar, pouring another drink. “I’d feel happier if we retreated to the safe room, too,” he said, his glass filled to the rim with scotch.

“Gerry. Before you guzzle enough scotch to kill an elephant, set the glass down and follow me. I want to show you something.” Harcourt walked toward the back of the study. “I promise you’ll get back to your drink.”

Frist reluctantly set his precariously overfilled glass on the bar counter and joined him. Harcourt pressed his palm against a hand-size rectangular wood panel, and a standard door–size section of the wall swung inward, revealing a short hallway that ended with an original Picasso. A stolen work beyond value.

“Safe room to the left,” said Harcourt. “Picasso to the front.”

“I never really got what people saw in Picasso,” said Frist, heading for the open doorway.

“He’s an acquired taste,” said Harcourt, trailing Frist. “Like the Dalmore.”

Frist glanced around the luxuriously appointed room. “Looks more like a sitting room.”

“That’s the point. You sit in here and wait for help to arrive. The walls are blastproof on all sides. Separate ventilation. Two weeks of food and water for four people. Bathroom. Secure communications. Weapons.”

“And you don’t want to wait this out in here?”

“The study windows are bullet resistant,” said Harcourt. “I’d rather not hide in here like a rat on the eve of a great victory. The house is secure. My study is secure. And we can be in here within seconds. Let’s finish our drinks while Aegis Global finishes Decker.”





CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

Decker lay hidden in the thick forest, waiting for any indication that Harcourt had taken the bait. Glancing at his watch, he shook his head. They should have reacted by now. Pierce’s voice broke the quiet, whispering through his wireless earpiece.

“Do you think we need to force this?”

“Give it thirty more seconds,” said Decker.

“We should have landed already. Unless Harcourt’s security missed the parachutes.”

“If they missed the parachutes, we’re screwed,” said Decker.

A car engine rumbled to life directly ahead of him.

“I’m on the move,” said Decker, lifting himself off the ground.

“Covering,” said Pierce.

Decker sprinted through the trees, shoving the barrel of his suppressed rifle through the open passenger window of the concealed SUV. He triggered the six-hundred-lumen light attached to the rifle, causing both occupants to shield their eyes with both hands.

“If this vehicle moves one inch, I’ll kill both of you,” said Decker. “If those hands move downward—at all—I will kill both of you. Nod if you understand.”

They both nodded.

“Nod if you want to see your families again,” said Decker, getting another round of nods. “Is the vehicle in park?”

The driver nodded.

“We’re in business.”

Pierce emerged from the trees on the opposite side of the road, his rifle pointed east, in the direction of Harcourt’s estate.

“Looks clear,” said Pierce, crossing the two-lane rural road.

“I still say we ice these two and move on,” said Decker.

Pierce arrived at the driver’s window a moment later, pressing the barrel of his rifle against the driver’s head. “It’ll be worth the thirty seconds to stow them away. I’m sure these two would like to walk out of here alive.”