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“Then what makes you think it’s empty?”
“Lights are still off. The past three days they’ve come on promptly at six thirty. It’s a quarter past seven. My gut says they’re gone.”
Telling Gideon that maybe they’d overslept would be ludicrous. The man’s instincts were never wrong. So where were they?
Sean, Serena, and Jazz had been the night crew. Highly trained and extremely capable operatives. No way would they have missed a mass exodus of the entire household. Something was way off here.
“We’re about ten minutes away. Hold tight.”
“Copy that,” Gideon said.
Liam shut down his comm and cut his eyes over to Xavier. “This stinks big-time.”
“I agree. Sean and Serena wouldn’t have missed them leaving.”
His mind raced with what could have happened. Pulling up schematics of the mansion, Liam examined them again. He’d reviewed the layout numerous times over the last couple of days. Could’ve drawn the
damn thing by heart. There were two back doors, two side doors, and one front door. They had cameras on every exit. No way a group of eleven could have left without someone noticing. Unless…
He peered closer. “There’s got to be a tunnel under the house.”
“But where? And why would they leave? They were there yesterday. How would they know we were coming?”
His gut twisting, Liam grabbed his phone and punched Myron’s number. Getting his voice mail was no surprise. Myron rarely answered his phone. “Myron, it’s me. Call me back ASAP.”
He ended the call, but his mind already knew the truth. They’d somehow gotten to Myron. And even though the man was no saint, Liam knew he wouldn’t have given up his secrets if he hadn’t been forced to do so. Question was, had Myron survived?
The trafficking house belonged to the elusive Mafia kingpin Hector Gomez, well known in the trafficking world. Rumor had it that Gomez was a frequent visitor to the house. As much as Liam had wanted to bust down the doors and rescue the victims, nabbing Gomez would put a substantial dent in the trafficking industry in this part of the world.
With the full backing of the Colombian government, Liam and his OZ teammates had watched the house for three days and nights. Men and women arrived and left at all hours. Armed men guarded the perimeter, trying without much success to conceal their weapons beneath their jackets. None of the men fit Gomez’s description.
Liam had made the decision to wait no longer. The plan was to go in tonight. Now it appeared he’d waited too long.
Inwardly cursing himself, Liam mentally reviewed the op. Their intent had been to strike a couple of hours before dawn, after the entire household had quieted down for the night. It had been a good plan and should’ve worked. Now they’d need to regroup and figure out what had gone wrong.
They pulled into the private drive of the mansion they’d taken over. Its three stories made it easy to keep an eye on the house across the street. Xavier drove around to the back. Both Gideon and Eve were waiting at the door for them.
“I texted Jazz, Sean, and Serena,” Eve said. “They’re headed back here.”
Liam nodded. Probably was pointless for them to return. If the house was empty, there was no one to rescue, no one to fight, no Mafia kingpin to capture.
“Let’s head over. Be on the lookout for traps. If they knew about us, they might’ve left a message.”
They’d definitely left a message, but not one Liam had anticipated. While the rest of the team continued to look for clues in the empty house, Liam stood over the tortured and brutalized body of Myron Hornsby. The man hadn’t deserved this. He’d had his flaws and had been prone to having sticky fingers when an expensive piece of artwork caught his eye, but with the intel he’d provided Liam through the years, he had saved numerous lives.
Whoever had done this had wanted to send a clear message. Liam had no problem interpreting it. Now he was even more determined. These people were going down.
“We found the tunnel.”
Gideon’s voice punched through Liam’s fury. Getting caught up in anger would accomplish nothing.
“Let’s go.” Following Gideon, he glanced over his shoulder once more at Myron and felt another surge of guilt and grief. Dammit, why did people do things like this?
“Hey, man, it’s not your fault.”
“Oh yeah? Whose is it, then?”
“Myron was no amateur. He knew exactly who he was dealing with and what could happen. He was in the business a long time and made his choices…” Gideon held up his hand before Liam could protest. “I’m not saying he deserved this, but he played a dangerous game with a lot of dangerous people. He knew the risks.”