Chapter 5
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No one in the garageattacked or shot at Sam. He would like to be happy about that, but it was just one more sign of something off with this setting.
His head kept warning him he should go watch his team’s back, but Angel was more than capable. They all had specific tasks to complete. This was not the time to do anything except execute his orders.
Sam got busy with the vehicle, slowing long enough to flatten two tires on each side of the black Suburban by sticking his knife tip into the valves.
They might need a vehicle later or he’d slash unfixable holes.
Why only one vehicle?
Probably because W had a chopper coming in to lift him and the senator out, making it harder to track them.
Sam pushed to get his part done quickly. He’d bet Nitro would find someone in the upstairs library or master bedroom, but Sam might bump into a guard taking a break in the kitchen to rummage for food. That didn’t sound possible in his head, but stranger things had happened on ops.
That’s why he had a Beretta M9 with a suppressor in his side holster.
He held his HK up, using the rifle barrel to lead his way as he headed for what should be entry to the mansion from the garage. Moose had found photos posted in a blog from hikers who had located the dilapidated mansion and spent a night here. There was no way to confirm any changes made by the new owner, but his team had a decent idea of the architectural layout.
Quietly opening the door, he entered a hall with a laundry room and half bath.
Instrumental music, something jazzy, floated from hidden speakers along his path. He searched for cameras to disable but found none so far.
Didn’t mean there weren’t some hidden.
He passed through a fully updated kitchen with new appliances. From paint to new wood cabinets, this place smelled new. He cleared the huge dining room with tall glass windows trimmed with fancy curtains he’d never had in his home. If the loner had entertained, he likely lit up the patio outside for his guests. At the moment, everything beyond twenty feet out from the patio remained shrouded in shadows.
His area required him to circle back to the kitchen and look for access to any other rooms before going upstairs. He crossed the kitchen to a door that opened to twelve steps rising to another door. His boots sank into thick carpet as he climbed them.
Not like the threadbare carpet he’d slept on as a kid.
When Sam reached the top step, he pushed the half-open door all the way and found a freaking ballroom.
This guy must have needed a map to get around.
Clearing the huge ballroom lit by two sconces with puny lights and an unlit wrought-iron chandelier, he came up emptyhanded again. On the far side of the room, an antique mahogany bar that belonged in an upscale hotel stood ten feet tall and stretched over twenty feet wide. Damn room could easily hold a hundred people.
The guy who remodeled this mansion could have turned the place into a bed and breakfast for tourists wanting to visit remote locations. That’s what Sam’s aunt had done. Angie built a moderate-sized inn in a remote location in northern Maine but never advertised it. That had made no sense.
He started clearing the room and checked the first door on his left.
Another kitchen. This one belonged in a house from the early nineteen hundreds with small appliances. Old crap, but nice in its own way. This kitchen did not appear to be in use. No sign of food like bananas, vegetables, or even canned goods.
Closing that door, he surveyed every nook and dark space quickly. Prepared to head back down to the main floor to help Angel, he swung past the last wall on his right and noticed an alcove.
There were too many places to hide in this house.
He stepped into the dark space, expecting a storage space for servicing this ballroom with shelves of cleaning supplies and equipment.
Nope. It was a closet with yet door number bazillion on the other side of the narrow room.
