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Oz drove. Rusty was in the passenger seat, and Ski sat in the back with Ayla, reading intel reports on the area. This wasn’t the original plan, but things went to shit. Pruitt, their intelligence sergeant, had ID’d a man watching the safe house.

He worked for Petrova.

Oz’s scowl deepened. His plan to leave Ayla at the safe house had been torpedoed. The team was bugging out and they didn’t have a replacement location yet. BD told him to bring Rusty along to babysit.

Rusty. Fuck.

The kid was doing better, but Oz would have preferred anyone else on the team. The captain’s expression when he began to argue shut Oz up fast. It was Rusty or no one.

Losing the safe house was a pain in the ass, but at least it wasn’t his fault.

It wasn’t really anyone’s fault. When a team was big, had enough different vehicles, and switched positions often, it was damn near impossible to spot a tail.

Petrova was one of Ivanov’s top lieutenants and he had the manpower with him in Trujillo.

Still, Oz was grateful he hadn’t been the one who gave away the safe house location. He was already skating on thin ice with the captain. This might have plunged him into the icy lake.

They’d left the sedan behind and were in an SUV with their gear in the back, including NVD.

It was dusk. By the time they reached the neighborhood with the house Ayla had a feeling her sister was in, it would be completely dark.

Perfect for a little recon, and the Night Vision Devices would make it easier to get in and out fast. It shouldn’t take more than a few minutes to confirm Iona Desmond wasn’t in the house.

Oz cast a quick glance to his right. Rusty was staring in the side mirror.

Oz checked the rearview mirror. Ski was studying his phone, probably still reviewing satellite images of the neighborhood.

As for Ayla, she gazed out her window, and he wondered what she was thinking.

Telling the Big Dog they should look at the residence because of the security it had was bullshit. He’d done it for his Pollita.

The damn thing was that BD knew it was bullshit. Oz had been maneuvering people all his life, but his captain could always see right through him. That was some kind of mojo. At least he didn’t shut down the recon.

Not that Ayla had warmed up. She was still angry.

“I found a way in that keeps us out of the subdivision,” Ski said.

Oz was glad for the distraction. “Yeah?”

“There’s a dirt road that goes into a wooded area behind the neighborhood.”

“How close does it get us to the house?”

“We’d be less than a klick away.”

A kilometer through rainforest-type vegetation. It wouldn’t be a fast in and out. That meant more time with Rusty being Ayla’s only protection. Oz didn’t like it.

“Any alternatives?”

Ski lifted his head and their gazes met briefly in the rearview mirror. “Yeah, driving into the subdivision, parking on the street, going up to the house, and ringing the doorbell.”

Oz’s scowl deepened. “Why’s there a dirt road? What’s in there?”

“I can’t see anything on the satellite shots. It might be an abandoned utility road.”

“Or there might be something hidden by the ground cover.”

“There is that possibility. Your call, dude.”

His call. The neighborhood where they were sure to attract the attention of someone who would alert the authorities or a dirt road that they couldn’t be certain was abandoned. Maybe a residence in there, hidden by trees. Maybe something else.

“Wiz,” Rusty said, “that green car has been behind us for a while now. You got him?”

Oz looked in the rearview mirror again. “The sedan with the flaking paint on the hood?”

“That’s the one.”

They were going through the industrial area, and it was nearly time for the second shift to report.

There was a lot of traffic. It was also getting dark fast and they were already driving with the headlights on.

He needed to find out if the car was following them before night set in and it became impossible to pick it out.

At the next intersection, Oz made a right turn.

In the rear mirror, he saw the sedan continue going straight.

Oz went around the block until he put them back on the main thoroughfare.

While it was second nature to look for tails, he put more effort into it now.

They’d been careful leaving the safe house.

None of them should have been spotted, but some of the dudes working for Ivanov were former Spetsnaz , Russian Special Forces.

He took more turns, more evasive maneuvers. The green car didn’t reappear before it became too dark to identify anyone behind them. It must have just been headed in the same direction they were, but it put him on edge.

“We’ll go in on the road you found,” Oz told Ski. “Give me some directions.”

“Copy that.”

It was a good twenty minutes later before they reached the end of the dirt road. It was rutted and in need of repair. If they weren’t in an SUV, he didn’t know if their suspension would have survived.

Old utility road or not, Oz didn’t want to leave the SUV parked out in the open. “Keep your eyes peeled for a place to take the vehicle into the brush.”

He expected Ski to spot something if he didn’t, but it was Rusty who said, “One o’clock, next to that downed tree.”

“I’ll check it out,” Ski volunteered, and when Oz stopped, he hopped out, put on a helmet with NVD, and examined the spot in the question. It didn’t take long for him to return. “It’s level for about twenty feet and the ground isn’t muddy. The tires won’t sink in.”

After Oz backed the SUV into the space, he left Ayla in the car and he, Rusty, and Ski concealed the front of the vehicle.

The fallen tree had come down recently, and branches had broken off, providing them with brush that was easy to move.

As he worked, he gave the situation some thought.

The bottom line was he didn’t want to leave his Pollita almost a klick away, not when Rusty was her only protection.

Oz wished Ski were staying with Ayla and not Rusty, but he couldn’t risk taking the kid with him.

Not when he could mess up and alert the entire neighborhood they were there.

An image of the Puerto Jardinese authorities arresting them made him wince.

If that happened, Nguyen would have him filling sandbags from the minute they returned to the States until Oz was too old to lift a shovel.

They couldn’t take Ayla to the house with them, but he could stash her close by. Close enough that if this turned into something more than he expected, Oz would be able to get to her quickly and keep her safe.

Oz frowned, but this was the first location they’d come across where he felt comfortable leaving Ayla.

He didn’t like the proximity to the house.

It was practically in the fucking backyard.

The entire way in from the SUV had been a tangled mess, and he didn’t want her standing in the middle of the rainforest. Not with so many potential hazards.

This spot was cleared, yet there were small trees and bushes on all sides, hiding her from anyone who might look out the window of the house.

Or the house next door. This spot was between the two homes, giving Oz a view of the entire backyard of the residence they were doing recon on and a wide swath of the street in front of it.

The bonus was the stone bench that Ayla could sit on while he and Ski checked out the house.

She looked cute in a too-big armored vest and the helmet with NVD goggles bolted on, but he kept the thought to himself. Ski would give him shit forever if he heard the comment.

“There’s lattice on the upstairs windows!” Ayla whispered, but there was no mistaking the excitement in her voice.

“I saw that,” he said, careful to sound neutral. “Ski and I will check out the house. Stay here with Rusty. If he tells you to do something, do it immediately. Don’t ask why, don’t argue. Got it?”

Without waiting for her agreement, he turned to his teammate. “You keep her safe. If anything happens to her, you’ll answer to me, not the Big Dog. Do you understand?”

“Understood,” Rusty said, coming to attention.

Damn, he didn’t want her this close to the house. The cover was light enough for her to see too much. Relying on Rusty to keep her from rushing toward the residence was iffy at best. Oz shook his head. There wasn’t another option.

He scrutinized the bench, including underneath it and in the area around it. “You can sit here, Pollita,” he said quietly. “It’s clear.”

“No snakes or spiders?”

“Nothing, I promise.”

Oz half expected her to study the area for herself, but she trusted him enough to sit without doing her own examination.

She gave him an expectant look, and he couldn’t stop his lips from curving.

He knew her. She sat because she wanted him to get his ass in gear and didn’t think he would until she was off her feet.

Joining Ski at the edge of the trees, Oz took a moment to scope out the house. They wouldn’t be without cover, not the entire distance. There were fruit trees, bushes, and a rock retaining wall that provided them some cover.

Even with the lattice on the windows, the chances of Iona Desmond being inside were slim. It wasn’t late enough for the neighborhood’s residents to be in bed and asleep, and he and Ski would need to approach cautiously. Silently.

The back of the house looked much like the front, right down to the decorative stone facade that came up about one-eighth of the way up the side. There was a covered back patio with four carved posts holding up the roof, a large round table with six chairs, and an outdoor kitchen to his right.

No movement or other signs of life. The house was dark. As early as it was, the owners must be out for the evening.

“Ready to roll?” Ski asked.

Oz nodded. Sticking to the shadows, he and Ski moved up to the house. They checked it out, starting with the ground-floor windows. Nothing except furniture.

With a few signals, Oz made his way to the back door, Ski covering him as they moved. Some instinct had him reaching for the door handle instead of his lock-picking tools. It opened easily. Not secured.

Immediately, they went into a defensive mode. It didn’t mean there was an ambush waiting for them, but it didn’t mean there wasn’t either.

In addition to the NVD, they were wearing vests with light armor. It would stop a pistol round, but not an assault rifle. This was probably nothing. Maybe the couple who lived here were late for a dinner party and they’d rushed from the house, forgetting to lock up.

It could happen.

His gut told a different story. Something was wrong.

He glanced at Ski. His teammate was on high alert. Yeah, it wasn’t only Oz’s instincts sounding the alarm klaxon.

With a few hand signals, they were on the same page.

They needed to clear the house. Staying together, they went room by room. They didn’t move to the next until the one they were in was determined to be completely empty.

Ayla would be getting impatient, Oz knew it, but they had to go slowly. If there wasn’t a human threat, there could be booby traps left behind. Rusty better sit on her if she tried to join them in the house.

He was overreacting. Maybe. Better to use extra caution and not need it than to fuck around and find out the hard way. Especially with Ayla nearby.

He pushed his Pollita from his head. He couldn’t afford to be distracted.

When he and Ski had the first floor secure, they made their way upstairs. They searched room by room, clearing each before moving to the next.

It sure as fuck looked as if someone had bugged out in a hurry. Why?

A final room at the end of the hall. The door was already ajar. He stood on one side, Ski stood on the other. When Ski nodded, Oz pushed the door open with his hand. No gunfire, no explosions, no nothing.

He craned his head enough to peer inside. Lying on the bed, unmoving, was a blonde woman. There was no mistaking her for anyone else.

Iona Desmond.