Page 75 of Lash

Rev does the same, glances at me, and receives my nod.

With a deep breath and a sharp exhale, he nods once to psych himself up, and then takes a big step backward and lunges forward, planting his boot right next to the door handle. It splinters but holds; he swivels out of the way of the door, anticipating a barrage of gunfire that never comes. After a short wait, he boots the door in the rest of the way. The doors burst inward with a crash, slamming all the way in, hitting the wall on the inside, and shuddering to a halt.

I shuffle past Rev, sweeping the vast foyer with my barrel—acres of polished, black-and-white marble tiles in a checkerboard pattern gleam, lit by a crystal-dripping chandelier. A suit of medieval armor stands on a pedestal in the center of thefoyer, wielding a polearm. Twin staircases curve up to a second story landing in graceful, mirrored arcs on either side of the foyer, with more suits of armor marching along the wall from the stairs to the front door.

Beyond, looking beneath the second-story landing, glimpses of the kitchen—marble counters, the same checkered floor, and glass doors overlooking an expanse of verdant green lawn.

All is silent.

"Foyer is empty," I report across the channel. "No signs of life so far."

"Search the house," Sol orders.

Something doesn't feel right. It is based on nothing but instinct, a niggling in my gut. This has been too easy.

I glance at Rev, who is scenting the air like a wolf, eyes narrowed, rifle at the ready. He shakes his head. "Negative," he says into his mic.

"Repeat," Sol says.

"Negative," Rev says again. "This feels wrong."

"I agree," I say. "Something does not feel correct."

A pause. "Pull back to the circle," Solomon says.

Rev and I jog outside and to the circle where everyone else is gathered.

"Explain," Solomon says, rifle hanging from his shoulder, hands hooked into the neck of his vest.

I shrug. "It feels wrong. In there, I mean. It's too easy. They know we are here. Rafael called for all units to the house, and we're just going to walk right in? It feels like a trap."

Lorenzo growls. "I agree. Rafael is clever. He will have expected us. He likely knows of our escape from Zagreb and Pugli's men. Also, my intel says that he does not usually keep prisoners at the house."

"Where, then?" Kane asks.

Lorenzo points at the barn. "There."

"But Inez is no ordinary prisoner," Scarlett says.

Lorenzo shakes his head. “No. But then, he did not apprehend her out of revenge. He needed information from her. And there is only one way to get information out of someone like Sophia Sousa."

"Sophia Sousa?" Chance rumbles. "That's her real name? I like it."

"She will be pleased," Lorenzo says, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"What information?" Rev asks.

Lorenzo sighs. "She will not like that I have shared this, but it was going to come out regardless." Another sigh. "She has a son—Rafael's son. She fled with him and placed him with a woman. She ensured she never knew where he was. Rafael is thinking of the future—of his legacy. He had another son with a different woman, but a rival killed them, so now he looks for his son with Sophia so he can make him the heir to the Mercado empire. He will not rest until he has what he wants. He knows that while she may not know where he is right now, Sophia can find her son. So the only question," Lorenzo says, "is how long Sophia can hold out. How much torture she can withstand. She will never give him what he wants—never. But he will not accept failure. So either she will break or she will die."

"And the point you are making is that he will not torture her in the house?" Kane asks.

"Correct," Lorenzo answers.

"But can we afford to make that assumption?" Solomon asks. "Time is wasting. We're here. Our entire plan was based on assaulting the main house."

"No, our plan was based on getting inside the compound and finding her," Lorenzo replies. "I do not think she is in the house. I think Rafael gambled on us assuming that, and probably thatwe would get their comms. If we search that house, we walk into an ambush."

Solomon glances across the compound at the distant bulk of the stable, then at the house. "Fine. You know Rafael, we don't." He circles his hand over his head and then points at the barn. "Double time it, folks."