he had. “That’s fantastic, Mike. Do you have anything in those bags that will help us get into Remington’s house?”
“Even better.” He reached into one of the bags and pulled out a one-foot-square case and held it up. “I have two of the latest laser microphones that are so sensitive you can hear through walls. If we know what room Remington is in, we can monitor his conversation from outside the house.”
“Wow.” I could picture where in the course handbook the laser mic was described, but I couldn’t recall any of the specifications.
“Cool for sure, but it’s not that easy,” Jax said. “For optimum performance, you must be level with the target or else too much of the laser signal gets reflected and won’t provide acceptable sound quality. That means the laser mic will work only if Remington stays on the first floor. What if he goes upstairs or downstairs to answer and/or talk on the phone?”
“Hey, I didn’t claim this was a perfect solution, but it’s a lower-risk option than Angel breaking into his house,” Mike said.
I put my hand on Mike’s shoulder. “It’s an excellent idea, Mike. Thank you. What else do you have in your bags of tricks? Maybe there’s something else we could use in addition to the mics.”
He seemed mollified by my response. “Well, there are several different miniaturized listening devices, a black light for detecting blood spatters, and a couple of signal jammers—one that’s designed to interrupt cell signals, and the other allows localized spoofing of GPS signals.”
He pointed at the bag nearest Jax’s leg. “That bag has a collapsible, nonlethal sonic rifle that will generally incapacitate someone within thirty yards for about a minute, although with some adjustments, I’m pretty sure I could stretch the incapacitation time to a minute and a half. That means we could take down Remington with this if he pulled a gun on us, but that would have to be a serious last resort. I’ve also got a couple of the chemical fire fuses that they demonstrated in class last week.”
He reached into the canvas bag nearest Bo and pulled out a large, very dark cloth that seemed to absorb the light that tried reflect from it. “But this baby takes the cake. Get ready to have your mind blown. Professor Pérez lent me a piece of black silicon.”
“What?” I exclaimed. “No way.”
“Way,” Mike said grinning.
“The Klingon cloaking device,” Wally said in a hushed voice, coming over to touch the cloth reverently. “Confirmed. Mind blown.”
“It’s not the Klingon cloaking device, Wally,” I corrected, also stroking the cloth. “It’s the Harry Potter cloak of invisibility.”
“Actually, guys, it’s neither,” Mike interjected. “But it would provide a shield against any infrared sensors and allow us to get closer to the house using the laser mic without being observed by Remington’s security camera’s nighttime mode.”
“So, exactly how close do we have to be to the house if Remington takes the call on the first floor?” Kira asked.
“Under ideal conditions, the mic can work up to one hundred meters,” Mike responded. “That should be more than we need.” He looked around at the team. “So, guys, what do you think? Do we have enough equipment and experience to help Angel hear that conversation tonight?”
I held my breath as, one by one, the team nodded. I closed my eyes as relief swept through me.
Jax stood up. “Okay, it’s settled, then. I recommend we run a test on the farmhouse to become familiar with the mic and its quirks and limitations. As Angel said, we’ll probably only get one shot at this.”
Mike stood up, rubbing his hands together. “This just keeps getting better and better. Since, I know the system best, I’ll show you guys how to use it. There are special headphones that come with the system to minimize other noise pollution and increase the clarity of sound. There’s a recording feature, too. Whoever will be using this needs to be sure to know how to use that feature, since we can enhance the sound recording later if there’s something we don’t understand.”
It was great to see activity and energy when fifteen minutes ago we were out of options and ideas, except for my suggestion to break into the house.
But one person remained silent. Frankie watched me, frowning.
I knew what she was thinking—I still intended to break into Remington’s house. I wasn’t going to risk him staying on the main floor to take that call, and she knew me well enough to figure that