the door to splinters and triggered an explosion that sent men diving for cover.
Chaos ensued, and they took advantage of every last second of it. Splitting up into pairs, they slipped into the building, methodically neutralizing threats as they swept each room of the house.
“Where the fuck is he?” Wade snarled after they finished clearing the kitchen. Six rooms, and the only thing they had to show for it was a handful of dead thugs and one frightened elderly cook.
Austin fastened zip ties around the man’s wrists. The old guy didn’t appear to be a threat, but looks could be deceiving and it never hurt to be careful. “Maybe the guys found him.”
“Or maybe he’s not even here.” Which would put a serious dent into his day. It was possible the asshole escaped through an undiscovered bolt-hole. Or there might be a hidden panic room in the house, where the cockroach could hide for an indefinite period, at least until his supplies ran out.
“¿Dónde está el Señor?” Wade asked the cook.
The old man shook his head. “No está aquí.”
¿Adónde fue? “Where did he go?”
The man shrugged. “No se.”
It was all Wade could do not to punch something.
Moments later, Navarre and Jackson walked into the room, a little sweaty but otherwise unharmed.
Their expressions indicated they hadn’t located Aranza, but Wade held out a modicum of hope. “Report.”
“Four casualties, but none of them matched the target’s description.”
“Did you check their hands?”
Navarre nodded. “One guy was missing a pinky, but other than that, all fingers were intact.”
Wade swore under his breath. “All right, let’s do another sweep. Keep an eye out for hidden passages along the walls and floors where Aranza may have escaped. If he’s not here, we need to figure out where he went, so collect any phones, laptops, or other electronic devices that might store data.” He looked to his right. “Jackson, I need you to get Hope.”
More likely than not, she was perfectly safe. But now that the worst of the danger had passed, he’d feel a lot better if she wasn’t alone.
“Sure thing. Be back in a few.”
As Jackson left, Wade started toward the hall. “I’ll take the master bedroom. Let me know the minute you find anything.”
Hope watched from her spot outside the compound through the binoculars Wade had given her, torn between her promise to stay away from the action and her desire to help the guys. In reality, she knew she was better suited to provide medical assistance once the dust had settled, but that didn’t stop her from wanting to contribute in some other fashion.
An explosion shook the ground and blew a big hole in the back wall of the compound, sending a plume of thick, black smoke into the air. Gunfire erupted from multiple locations, making it impossible to determine who was shooting at whom.
Though the guys had surprise on their side, and yes, they were trained to do this sort of thing, they were also outnumbered and outgunned. It would be a miracle if nobody got seriously injured—or worse—and with each exchange of gunfire, she found it harder and harder to breathe.
Needing to do something, she set the binoculars aside and checked the supplies in her bag once again, making sure everything was exactly where she wanted it in case she needed to use them in a hurry. Yep, all good, as expected, and that wasted a whole thirty seconds. Now what?
Restless and edgy, she picked up the binoculars and focused on the compound.
The smoke had thickened, making it difficult to see much of anything. More gunfire, a few muffled shouts. Then she saw it: one of Aranza’s men, dressed in tan pants and short-sleeve white button-down shirt, scrambling through the hole in the wall. Once he was free, he took off like a shot.
From where Hope stood, she couldn’t make out his features, but as he got closer she recognized him as one of the men high up in Aranza’s chain of command. Salzo, Salazar, something like that. She’d never interacted with him directly. She’d only heard his name in passing while she was in the main house treating one of the cooks who’d suffered a burn in the kitchen.
When he got closer, she aimed the barrel of her pistol at him and shouted, “Stop!” in Spanish.
He froze for an instant, his gaze locking with hers, but then he apparently decided her command lacked authority, because he turned and resumed his sprint toward the relative safety of the forest.
She didn’t want