“Okay, Joel here will organize the trucks and liaise with Morrison at Stormont to get them to Gray Rock. Once they arrive, keep them out of sight. I don’t want Driscoll being scared off by the sight of a small army. Get them to deploy within the house, covering all the entrances. And make sure you leave four men patrolling the perimeter. It has to look like business as usual. Once Driscoll gets into the house, take her down.”
“Understood,” Edward said. “Who’ve we got lined up to replace West?”
“No one, at the moment. There’s no rush though—she’s coming to us.”
Langton stubbed out his cigarette and lit another.
“You also need to consider your own security, Henry,” Joel Harmer said. “If she’s identified Edward as being behind the kill order, it’s no great leap to implicate you too.”
Langton waved off the warning. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Harmer’s judgment, but anyone who knew the ins and outs of his personal arrangements could be made to talk. Henry Langton had decided long ago to compartmentalize his own security and had handpicked Willem Klaasen, a South African expert, to oversee the project.
Klaasen was handsomely paid for his services. At three million a year, he wasn’t cheap, but for a man earning a couple of billion a day, it was pocket change to Langton.
The high salary meant sacrifices. Klaasen went everywhere with Henry Langton, without exception. He was never more than two doors away, and was currently sitting in the driver’s seat of the armor-plated limousine parked outside the entrance. Langton simply had to touch a button on his million-dollar watch and his bodyguard would be with him in seconds.
In public, Klaasen appeared to be just another servant, but when they were alone, he was one of the few people on the planet that Langton treated with any sort of respect. A celibate teetotaler, Klaasen holidayed with Langton, slept in the next room, and never so much as took a dump unless his trusted deputy was there to sub in for him.
It was Klaasen who’d set up the security arrangements for Langton’s sprawling estate south of Washington. Set on its own seventy-acre peninsula, the fifty-thousand-square-foot home boasted fifteen bedrooms, twenty bathrooms, and every luxury a man could dream of. He had a swimming pool the length of a football field, half a dozen reception rooms lined with a billion dollars’ worth of art, and a three-thousand-foot runway for his private jets.
If it was security-related, Klaasen had thought of everything. Sonobuoys ringed the peninsula and would alert them to anything larger than a seal approaching land. The surrounding trees had been cut back so that anyone looking to assault the house would have to cover two hundred yards of open lawn, and the entire estate was bristling with motion sensors, thermal-imaging cameras, and standard CCTV coverage. The thousand-square-foot control room was constantly manned by three personnel; another fifty armed guards occupied an annex the size of a small mansion.
Officially, the residence didn’t exist. Anyone looking at the outcrop of land on Google Earth would see nothing but trees, and air traffic control ensured that no aircraft flew within thirty miles of the peninsula.
Even if someone attempted to breach the formidable defenses, Langton had only to reach one of ten elevators that led to the sub-basement, where it was a short walk to his safe room. The elevators ran via their own power supply and could be manually operated if necessary, and the bunker was designed to withstand a nuclear blast. It was stocked with enough provisions to last a month and would maintain communications with the outside world.
And when it came to Langton’s personal protection, Klaasen had a few tricks up his sleeve.
Literally.
In short, no one was getting near Henry Langton.
“You said yourself, we shouldn’t underestimate her,” Harmer warned. “We expected her to roll over days ago, and now it looks like she’s bringing the fight to us. I wish you’d let me have some input on your security measures.”
“As I told you years ago, that is something I will always handle personally. The subject is closed. Now, if there’s nothing else, I have work to do.”
“There is something,” Edward said. “We found the Highlander they stole in Louisville. It was dumped in the woods a few miles out of town. There was blood on the back seat and we matched it with Farooq Naser’s DNA. There’s no telling if he’s alive or dead though.”
“He was probably laughing so much at your incompetence he gave himself a nosebleed,” Langton said. He stood up, picked up his coat, and draped it over his arm. Without another word, he left the club and strolled across to where Klaasen waited by the open door of the limo.
“Home?”
“Yes,” Langton replied as he got in and made himself comfortable.
The car glided into traffic and Langton pushed a button that activated the intercom. “When we get back, I want a full review of security. Make sure every sensor is working and tell your men to be extra vigilant for the next few days.”
“Yes, sir. Any specific threat?”
Langton considered keeping him out of the loop—the fewer people who knew about the issue, the better—but Klaasen would be hampered in dealing with the problem unless he knew all the details.
“Her name is Eva Driscoll. I think it’s best that you know everything about her.”
“What happened to Anton West?” Carl Huff asked when Bill Sanders answered his call. “I was trying to reach him but got no answer, so I checked his file for an alternative number and saw the deceased flag.”
“It was Driscoll. She was waiting for him when he got home. She took him down to the basement, put a bullet in his knee and another in his head.”
Exactly what Huff had assumed. “I did warn you that she’d go on the offensive,” he said. “I assume she got information from him before he died.”
“That’s correct. His network account was accessed minutes before he was killed. We analyzed the activity and we know what she was looking for.”
“The people who ordered her death,” Huff said, “did you pass my concerns on to them?”
“I did,” Sanders replied. “That was a couple of days ago, and I got the impression they didn’t take it too seriously. It seems they do now.”
“Yeah? What makes you say that?”
“They told me to pull the existing teams back.”
Huff’s first impression was that it was a strange decision, but the more he thought about it, the clearer the picture became, like a blurry image coming into sharp focus.
“They don’t want anyone to get in her way,” he said. “They want her to come. They’re waiting for her.”
“That’s exactly what I thought,” Sanders agreed. “They’re setting a trap, and she’s going to walk right into it.”
Huff took a few moments to process the information. “When they said to pull the teams back, did that include me?”
“No,” Sanders told him. “My instructions to you still stand.”
“In that case, I’ll need to be on the inside. Make a call.”
CHAPTER 36
For Eva Driscoll, the hardest aspect of surveillance was the mind-numbing boredom. She was itching to storm the house and take down Edward Langton, but to do so without properly scoping the place out would be reckless at best.
In the eight hours since they’d been in position, they’d noted the guards’ routines and taken pictures of them all, using the camera Len Smart had purchased. She’d sent the Brits to do the shopping, as neither were on any watch lists.
Yet.
They’d come back with a Canon EOS 80D and a lens that brought the faces of the guards into sharp focus from a mile and a half away. That equipment hadn’t been cheap, and nor had the four sets of night-vision glasses they would use for the assault.
Eva put the camera down on the shelf of earth in front of her, then rubbed her eyes and stretched her legs as best she could. Smart and Sonny had done an excellent job of creating the observation post. They’d spent five hours digging and had fashioned a seat in
the rear from dirt. While they did the hard work, Colback had built the roof, using branches lashed together, packed with dirt, and topped off with the grass that had sat atop the original hole. The roof sat on two legs at the front, allowing whoever was on observations to look through an eight-inch gap at the house, which was nearly 2,500 yards away. At the rear was a gap big enough for the team members to enter and exit.
“You’re early,” she said as she heard footsteps in the undergrowth behind her.
“Only a few minutes,” Sonny said, lying on his stomach so he could see her.
Eva turned to face him and saw the same come-hither look he’d been giving her since she’d ditched the old lady disguise.
“I thought we could chat for a few minutes before you knock off.”
“Great idea.” Eva favored him with a smile.
Sonny’s grin spread across his face, but only until Eva picked up her notebook.
“At 14:12, a bus arrived. There were eight people on board, not including the driver. It left forty minutes later with a different eight men on board. I know, because I took photos as it came and went.”
“It could be the guards rotating on and off duty,” Sonny suggested.
“I thought the same thing, except it was a huge bus for eight people. They could have used a minibus, but that thing could easily seat forty.”
“Maybe that’s all they had available.”
“Yeah, that was a possibility, but to be sure I took pictures of the front and rear wheel wells as it arrived, and again when it left.” Eva found the images in the camera’s memory and showed them to Sonny.
“It looks to be riding low,” he noted.
“That’s it coming in.” She took the camera and flicked to the picture of the bus as it left the house. “Take a look now.”
“That’s a hell of a difference. So they know we’re coming.”
Eva nodded. “I’m guessing there were at least fifty others on that bus, plus weapons and the rest of their gear.”
“So they offloaded in the courtyard.”
Viewed from above, the house was shaped like a top hat, with an eighty-yard facade and three other wings surrounding a courtyard with an ornate fountain in the center. Vehicles entered via an archway that was secured by ten-foot wooden gates.
“They did,” Eva confirmed. “Tight squeeze for a bus that size, so you have to ask why they didn’t just offload at the front door. They didn’t have any other visitors who might have been inconvenienced.”
“So, are you still planning to go ahead with the assault?”
Eva stared at the house. She’d been asking herself the same question for the last hour. The original idea had been to strike at three in the morning, two days from now. That would have given them plenty of time for observation and to fine-tune any details, but with the suspected new arrivals, that plan was now moot.
“Keep watching for now,” Eva said as she climbed out of the blind. “I’ll go discuss it with the others.”
Sonny slithered into the hole to begin his two-hour stint, while Eva jogged back to the main camp a dozen yards away.
They’d chosen a heavily wooded area atop a hill, so their comings and goings wouldn’t be noticed. There was always the possibility that a satellite’s infrared camera could pick up their body heat, but Len Smart had considered this on his shopping trip.
Eva ducked under the thermal tarpaulin that had been strung up between four trees. It hung four feet off the ground and had originally been designed to cover and mask the heat signatures of battle tanks. Smart had also picked up a solar-powered cooler, sleeping bags, and enough food and water to last them a few days.
“You should be sleeping,” she said to Smart, who was lying on top of his sleeping bag, reading a Kindle.
“I’ve had an hour. That’s fine for now. Besides, I want to finish this book before it all kicks off.”
Eva was intrigued. “What is it? A military handbook on close-quarter battle?”
“Hardly,” Smart said. “It’s Walking with Shadows by Luke Romyn. A famous fiction author and a ten-year-old boy are the only survivors of a plane crash in the Amazon rainforest, and standing between them and civilization are vicious mercenaries and drug runners. You should try it.”
“Thanks, but I get enough action in real life.”
“Oh, it’s much more than just a shoot-’em-up.”
Eva took a bottle of water from the cooler and drank half of it. “Much as I’d like to participate in your book club, there’s been a development.”
Farooq was fast asleep, while Colback was making a sandwich from a packet of cold cuts.
“Rees, we’re going to have to rethink our approach.”
She told the pair what she’d seen during her two hours on duty and they were visibly disheartened by the news.
“It was already a challenge when we thought we were facing a handful of men,” Colback said. “Now it’s more like fifteen-to-one in their favor.”
“The odds aren’t great,” Eva admitted.
“It sounds like a trap to me,” Smart said. “If they wanted to deter an attack, the extra men would be out in force. They want to draw us in.”
“Agreed. The question is, do we take the bait?”
“The way I see it,” Smart said, “he’s going nowhere. The longer we sit tight, the more frustrated Edward will become, and that might lead to the mistake we need.”
“They might also flood the area with troops,” Colback suggested, “and that would be the end of us.”
Both men made valid points. If they were going to bide their time, they couldn’t hang around the house. It would be better to withdraw and pick the ideal moment, preferably when Edward Langton was in transit. He had to be taken alive, otherwise they might never discover who else comprised the ESO. Langton’s father Henry was undoubtedly involved, but Eva wanted them all, not just the man at the top. Even he could be replaced. She wanted to end the ESO, not temporarily halt it. According to Farooq, though, there was no official residence listed for him anywhere. Simply finding his home looked to be a near impossibility.
“Okay,” Eva said, “we pull back. He has to leave the house at some point. When he does, we’ll be waiting.”
“That could be days, or even weeks,” Colback said.
“I don’t think so,” Eva told him. “They’d expect us to watch the place for a couple of days at the very least. If we don’t hit them soon, they’ll start to wonder what’s going on. I’d say another three days, max, before they send people out to check the perimeter.”
“So, what about the blind? Leave it where it is, so they know we were watching?”
“No, let’s keep them guessing. Rees, wake Farooq and pack everything away. Len, you come with me.”
Eva led Smart to the hide, where Sonny was watching the house through the viewfinder of the camera.
“Just in time. We’ve got another visitor,” Sonny told them.
“It doesn’t matter,” Eva replied. “We’re bugging out. Let’s demolish this thing and make it look like we were never here.”
Sonny snapped off a couple of shots of the newcomer anyway, then turned the camera off and put it back in its case. He wriggled out of the hole, then helped Smart remove the roof.
“Take the turf off gently,” Smart said. “We’re going to cover our tracks.”
“No problem. I’ll handle the delicate work; you get shoveling.”
Carl Huff maintained a sedate pace as he cruised up the pristine white gravel driveway toward Gray Rock. The house and manicured gardens stank of money, and the building itself looked as if it had been plucked from an English country estate.
He pulled up to the steps leading to the huge double doors that formed the main entrance, then switched off the ignition and got out of the silver Ford. He suspected it was by far the cheapest car to have ever parked on that particular spot.
Huff turned away from the house and looked off into the distance. The front lawn extended for at least
three hundred yards, and on either side the ground steadily rose a hundred feet, the hillsides thick with trees.
The perfect place to sit and observe.
You’re out there, Eva. I can feel it.
Huff turned at the sound of the ostentatious doors opening: an ex-army type in a flak jacket appeared at the entrance, automatic rifle aimed casually in Huff’s direction.
“Name!” the man barked.
“Carl Huff.”
The man lowered his weapon. “You were supposed to use the rear entrance.”
“Is that right?”
“Yeah. Follow the road all the way until you see the big gates.”
Huff flipped off a lazy salute, then got back in the car. He drove around to the back of the mansion and found the gates to the courtyard open.
Four armed men were waiting to meet him. They instructed him to halt a few yards from the entrance and one signaled for him to get out. Huff did so, slowly, and a fifth man appeared with a dog on a leash. The canine sniffed around the exterior of the car, followed by the interior. When it had finished, it sniffed Huff for good measure, then returned to its handler.
“Clear,” the man said, and motioned toward the entrance. “Inside, there’s a garage on the left. Park in there.”
Huff drove through the gates and followed the instructions. The garage took up the entire first floor of the east wing, with enough space for at least a dozen more cars. Huff found a spot, then walked back out into the sunshine.
Before he had time to admire his surroundings, another armed guard beckoned for him to follow. He led Huff through an archway and down a hallway, then into a reception room.
The interior of the house was as opulent as the outside. Huff guessed the art on the wall probably cost more than he could hope to earn in a lifetime, and every stick of furniture screamed wealth and privilege.
“You were supposed to go straight to the rear entrance. Why did you stop outside the front door?”
The question was asked by a middle-aged man wearing dark slacks and a dress shirt. He was holding a tall, clear drink and sitting on a leather sofa facing an inlaid coffee table. There were also two guards in the room, standing in positions that allowed them to cover all three exits.
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