The Rescue(97)

CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

“Mr. Ross. They off-loaded the groceries, and I have two targets sitting around a table by the pool in the backyard,” said Ramirez. “Positive ID on Harlow Mackenzie and Sophie Woods.”

Gunther glanced over his shoulder at the operative, who held the drone’s ground control station in his lap. “That’s great news,” he said. “How’s the battery looking?”

“Looking good. We can stay up another forty-five minutes, but I seriously advise against it. The Wasp is pretty quiet, but with people hanging around outside the house, we run the risk of detection. I recommend we recover and recharge the drone immediately. If they leave the house, we’ll have a fully charged drone to follow them.”

“Can you park the drone in an aerial pattern far enough away to avoid detection? But still be able to tell if any of them are outside? Maybe zoom in if it’s clear to get some detailed video of the property?”

“It might be tough up here,” said Ramirez. “The drone will attract attention if it sits in one place for too long. This is the land of the rich and entitled. If someone calls the cops, we could be dealing with an LAPD helicopter.”

“I’ll defer to your judgment on this. Make one more pass and start thinking about recovery.”

“Got it. We’ll need to pick a side road somewhere down Mulholland. I saw a few on the map that would work.”

“Sounds good,” said Gunther before opening the door and walking toward the opposite side of an overlook parking area just a block away from Mackenzie’s hideout.

The Barbara Fine Overlook was a bit of a buzzkill compared to the Narrows Overlook, where they’d launched the drone. Featuring little more than mansion rooftops nestled into dried-up hillsides, the supposed scenic vista completely underwhelmed. He took out his satellite phone and dialed Jacob Harcourt’s direct line.

“Please tell me you found Mackenzie,” said Harcourt.

“We’ve positively identified Harlow Mackenzie, Sophie Woods, and Kathleen Murphy. Pretty sure Pamela Stack was in the car with Murphy. We couldn’t ID her when they got to the house.”

“Any chance they made you?”

“No way. We put the drone up early. I took no chances during our ground surveillance.”

“What about the FBI?”

“They pulled most of their surveillance off Mackenzie and her associates two days ago,” said Gunther. “We didn’t get a sniff of them around the Natural Foods parking lot. It all happened too fast for them to respond. I had units there in under twenty minutes.”

Ramirez and Calvin had followed Gunther’s SUV up Beverly Glen Boulevard, looking for possible surveillance. None of the vehicles behind them looked suspicious.

“Can you hit the house right now? I’d like to clean up this mess as soon as possible,” said Harcourt. “I have Frist heading down here tonight. I do not want to spend the entire weekend with that cretin.”

“I need to analyze the aerial surveillance to be sure, but I don’t see that happening during daylight hours. The target house is in a gated community. One way in. One way out. Two guards at the gate.”

“Two guards?” said Harcourt. “Sounds like a five-minute job.”

“I know, but the house is deep inside the neighborhood, and cars are constantly coming in and out. Very high-end cars. It’s too risky. One call to nine-one-one and we’ll be in a world of hurt. Beverly Hills PD doesn’t screw around up here.”

“Fine. But I need this wrapped up as soon as possible. Have you read the after-action report from Aleman’s place?”

“I have.”

“Then you understand my concern. I don’t need Decker, and whatever army he’s scrounged up, parachuting onto my estate.”

“I can’t imagine he’d use the same tactic twice.”

“You know what I mean!” said Harcourt. “The guy is resourceful. I need a bargaining chip in case he somehow manages to get to me. And I can’t reiterate this enough—I do not want to spend the next two weeks locked down with Gerald Frist.”

“Monday is the big vote, right? Does it really matter what happens to Frist after that?”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Sorry. Bad joke. We’ll handle the Mackenzie side of the equation tonight, then focus on Decker. He’s good, but he’s not that good.”

“That’s what I wanted to hear,” said Harcourt, pausing. “And as far as Mackenzie and her associates are concerned? No restrictions. No limits. You do whatever you have to do.”

“With pleasure,” said Gunther, the call ending.

He walked back to the Range Rover and hopped inside.

“Ramirez?”

“Yes, sir?”

“You mentioned a pool,” said Gunther. “How big is the backyard?”

“It’s one of the bigger lots in the neighborhood. Pool takes up about a quarter of the backyard. There’s a big-ass stone patio with a fire pit next to it. The rest is green grass.”

“Is the grassy area large enough to accommodate a helicopter?”

“Depends on the size of the helicopter.”

“I’m thinking a Sikorsky S-76.”

“Rotor diameter?”