[BAD 07] - Silent Truth Read Free Page A

for a brief glance. Six minutes to eight. Better time than he’d thought. Enough to reach the house before one of the two guards on duty made his hourly perimeter walk.
    But when he pushed away from the deck to recon the open ground they’d have to cover, something was not right.
    A heavily armed guard in black fatigues stood between the rear wall of glass defining the two-story Mediterranean-style house and the patio. He paced back and forth.
    Something had changed since last night’s intel.
    A permanent guard on this side meant additional—unanticipated—security. Why so heavily armed?
    Hunter turned back to Eliot and used hand signals to tell him the security had increased. Eliot would normally have signaled “What the hell?” right back, then grinned.
    This time he hesitated, no doubt thinking of his new family.
    No room for baggage in this business.
    As if catching the direction of Hunter’s thoughts, Eliot gave the “Let’s go” signal.
    Hunter moved out. They had four minutes to make the door on the pool cabana attached to the main structure before encountering the guard that should be circling the compound.
    Plans always played out better on paper.
    Hunter had just reached the corner of the cabana with Eliot tucked in close when heavy footsteps from the front of the house thudded toward them.
    Damn guard was early.
    The guy covering the rear of the house had reached the end of his pacing route at the opposite side and turned back in the direction of the cabana.
    Either way Hunter went meant exposure to a threat.
    He was supposed to insert and exit without alerting any security, a stealth op just to confirm documents were in the safe so the FBI could bust Brugmann, a CIA field coordinator, before he sold agency assets.
    No noise, no sign of breach, and no blood.
    Two out of three was better than dying.
    Hunter put his hand up for Eliot to stay put.
    When the approaching guard stepped within two feet of their narrow hiding spot Hunter came out of the black shadows, slamming a chop at the base of the guard’s neck that didn’t kill him but took him out of play. He loweredthe limp body between a wall of thick evergreen bushes and the house. Eliot gagged and secured the guard.
    If the other guards performed an hourly voice check this would go to shit in a matter of minutes. If not, he and Eliot could still get in and out without notice.
    No choice. Not unless he wanted six deaths on his hands.
    When the rear sentry turned his back, Hunter entered the cabana with Eliot. Once inside, he passed the bar and service area, then went on through the showers, which reeked of chlorine. An interior door opened to a black-and-white-tiled hallway, which led to an out-of-the-way servants’ stairwell to the second floor.
    At least that intel hadn’t changed.
    Brugmann’s only nighttime staff, a housekeeper, had been called away with an FBI-induced emergency.
    Hunter moved up the steps without making a sound on the thick Berber carpet. A walkway exposed on both sides and crossing over the living room area bridged the spot where he stood and the door to Brugmann’s bedroom, where the safe was housed.
    Lowering to his stomach, Hunter snaked his way across the bridge with Eliot right behind him. Few spotlights above were on, but shadows cast through the carved wood railing showed clearly on the white and sand-colored yellow living room below.
    When he reached the far side, Hunter pushed up to his feet in a tight corner next to the door. The bedroom doorknob opened on a whisper. The home had been in Mrs. Brugmann’s family for a hundred and twenty-seven years. She hadn’t accompanied her husband on this trip and Brugmann had no history of seeing other women.The bedroom should be empty.
    On the other hand, Brugmann wasn’t supposed to have additional guards tonight either.
    Eliot slithered past Hunter, into the thankfully empty bedroom with open windows welcoming the salty breeze. Voices downstairs approached the living room