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“It has been a while since I’ve peeked at their books. They never had a lot of cash, but they weren’t in dire straits the last time I checked. Their capital costs are pretty low. They own this property outright and don’t use utilities. Taxes are way low out here.”

He moved over to the airplane, which would normally be a six-seater. But a glance inside showed both rows of rear passenger seats had been removed. In fact, the seats sat off to one side of the hangar on the floor. Something bulky and oblong filled the floor of the rear area of the plane.

He reached for the pilot’s door handle.

“What are you doing?” she whispered.

“Finding out what’s under that tarp in the back of the plane.”

She scowled at him as he slipped into the cramped cockpit and maneuvered onto his knees on the pilot’s seat. He lifted the tarp and swore. “You gotta look at this,” he muttered.

He lifted the tarp enough for her to peer through the window, and for good measure, he shined his flashlight on what looked like a giant motor underneath. The kind kids built in school with an oversized coil of copper wire wrapped around a central core.

“What on earth?” she breathed.

What were the PHP doing with a complicated electronic device inside a freaking airplane? Color him confused?—

--A dozen flashlights pointed at the airplane all at once, and the distinctive chink of shotgun shells being chambered froze Ian on his knees in the seat. He let the tarp slip from his fingers unobtrusively and drop back over the device.

“I told you,” Piper commented in a regular speaking voice.

“Out of the plane! Hands behind your head! Move nice and slow or I’ll feed you to the dogs in little pieces.”

The guy didn’t sound like he was kidding. Ian reviewed the infiltration step by step in his head trying to figure out where he’d gone wrong. Did these guys actually have some sort of electronic surveillance system after all? He hadn’t even bothered to check for one. But if they were harboring a high-tech airplane loaded with some sort of complex motor, who knew what other technology they might be using.

He could kick himself for being so sloppy.

Rough hands shoved him onto his belly on the cold, concrete floor and frisked him thoroughly.

The voice that had yelled at him before ordered, “Light some lanterns.”

In a few seconds, a trio of lanterns flared to life, sending a faint, propane-scented hiss into the night.

“What the hell?” the man’s voice exclaimed.

From beside him Piper said in a small voice, “Hi, Daddy.”

13

Ian’s head whipped up off the concrete toward her.

Daddy?Daddy?

Her father was a member of the PHP? Someone shoved his head back down, but not before he got a good look at “Daddy.” Sonofabitch. It was Joseph Brothers himself, founder of the damned group. Brothers. Roth. B-Roth-ers. Son of a bitch.

His mind raced. No wonder she’d known so bloody much about this group. No wonder she’d spotted the threat when no one else had ever head of these guys. And no wonder she’d been so damned interested in finding out what herfatherwas up to in Sudan. Jesus H .Christ.

Could she be trusted? Was she one of these extremists? She’d been all hot and bothered to prove she was as good as one of the boys—was that all about gaining acceptance into the ranks of these nutballs?

What had she told the PHP about her mission…or his? About him? Had she managed to tip off her father that the two of them were coming when he’d been in the store buying steak? It would explain how easily they’d been spotted, tonight.

“Who’d you bring home with you, Pipes?” one of the others asked.

“That’s Ian. I told him we wouldn’t be able to sneak in here without getting caught, but he just had to try.”

“Who the hell are you, Ian?” Brothers growled.

“I guess I should say, ‘Hi, Dad,’ too. Piper and I got married a few months back.”