Hunt Them Down(53)

Good Christ!

Why hadn’t he seen this before? McMaster was on the Black Tosca’s payroll, and he had hired Egan to do his dirty work. With Cole Egan in the picture, the operation had just gotten a whole lot more dangerous. Had McMaster issued the warrant too? Had he lied to Hunt that the FBI was behind it? Warning Hunt about the warrant might have been a ruse to lure him in or to guarantee his trust. Did this mean that the only people he could trust were Anna and Tony Garcia? The very same people he had once betrayed? How screwed up was that? But that wasn’t entirely true, was it? He wasn’t alone. He could trust Simon Carter and the rest of his former teammates. Of that he was sure.

“We’re one mile out,” he said, looking at Anna. At her request, he had moved into the driver’s seat the moment they were out of Miami.

Anna hadn’t been the same since they had left Pomar’s condominium. He could tell something bothered her, but she had yet to share it with him. What was he going to do with her? She had spent the past five minutes typing furiously on her laptop. A video started playing.

“What are you watching?”

“Did you know the house we’re about to hit was for sale three years ago?”

“Why would I know that?”

“They were asking eleven million dollars for it.”

“Not the type of listing I usually look at. A bit outside of my budget.”

“The real estate broker who listed the house uploaded a superb video.”

That sparked Hunt’s interest. “It’s still up?”

“It is. We’re a quarter mile away. It will be on your right.”

Hunt let up on the gas pedal a couple hundred feet away from the house and let the Jeep coast by. The Black Tosca’s Hallandale Beach safe house was a huge estate. It wasn’t part of a gated community, and it didn’t need to be. It was located directly on the A1A next to similar estates. High brick walls surrounded it on three sides. The only access from the road was through a fifteen-foot iron fence secured by an electronic latch. A tank could bust through it, but not a Grand Cherokee.

“Looks like a fortress,” Anna said.

“Yeah.”

“How are we gonna go in?”

“The beach is an option,” Hunt replied.

“But they’ll be expecting that, won’t they?”

“Not only that, but they probably have motion detectors all around the back of the house, and every door and window will be wired.”

“So?”

“I’ll be fine,” Hunt said, making a right at the next intersection. “I’ll park the SUV and watch the video you found. That should give me a better idea about what to expect inside the house. Don’t worry. I’ll find a way. Trust me.”

“I don’t think you meant that.”

“What?”

“Trusting you.”

“I simply meant I know what I’m doing, Anna. Nothing else.”

“I’ll ask Tony to send some men to help out. And just so you know, I’m not staying in the car.”

Hunt thought better than to pick another fight with her. Two miles past the safe house, he made a right turn into an almost empty parking lot. He took a space between two vehicles next to a Taco Bell.

“We need new transportation. There aren’t many SRTs on the streets, and the police probably have a BOLO out on it. A BOLO is—”

“I know what it means,” Anna snapped back. “Be on the lookout.”

“Okay, I’m sorry. Relax a bit, will you? We’re on the same team.”

He regretted his choice of words the moment they came out of his mouth.

“Are we? Because last time you said that, you fucked us all.”

She had a point. There wasn’t much he could say to soothe her, so he remained silent.

“I sent Tony an email,” she told him after a moment. “He’ll be here shortly with another SUV.”

“He knows where we are?”

“He’s been tracking us the whole time.”

“How?”

“Through me, of course.”

It made sense that Tony didn’t trust him to keep his little sister safe. They both knew Anna’s safety wasn’t Hunt’s priority.

Still, Hunt wasn’t happy about this new development.

“I specifically told the both of you I didn’t want him around.”

“And you’re a fool if you thought you could keep him at bay. His daughter might be in there too. Don’t forget that.”

Hunt sighed. The sort of help he needed was trained operators, not gunslingers. “How long before he gets here?”

Anna looked at her phone. “Five minutes.”

“Show me the video.”



“Stop right there!” Anna said.

Hunt paused the video.

“Back up a few seconds.”

Hunt did. “What did you see?”

She reached over him and clicked on the play button. “Look at the door handle.”

The video focused on the main entrance. A large, modern wooden front door with no window occupied the whole frame. The door was beautiful and looked expensive.

“There’s no lock,” Hunt said. “Only a keypad.”

“Correct,” Anna said. “It’s a Schlage lock.”