travel, we’ll be sure to let you know.’
Cobb cut them off. It was bad enough that Sarah was giving him lip. He couldn’t afford antics from the other guys on the team, too. Not with hostiles in hot pursuit.
‘Josh, what’s your position?’ Cobb asked.
‘Two hundred yards west,’ McNutt answered.
‘Sarah and I are headed your way. We’re going to need cover.’
‘It’s about time. Shoot to kill?’
Cobb shook his head. ‘That’s a negative.’
McNutt grumbled but followed his orders.
8
The man with the dirty beard and unkempt hair had been patrolling the sand with his metal detector for several hours. His ratty clothes and strange demeanor kept passersby at a safe distance, not that there were many at this time of night. Every so often he would dig in the sand and search for buried treasure, but he never came up with anything more substantial than an aluminum can or a foil wrapper.
To most observers, he fit in with half the scavengers who roamed the beaches at night. Over the years, Kozlov’s guards had dealt with so many of these people that they had learned the best way to handle them was to simply ignore them. That might have been a wonderful policy for tourists, but it wasn’t the best strategy when it came to guard duty. If Kozlov’s men had been paying closer attention, they would have realized the crazy man in the Hawaiian shirt wasn’t searching for treasure, he was actually planting devices in the sand. And the ‘metal detector’ that he had been using for half the night couldn’t actually detect metal — but it sure as hell could deliver it.
As Josh McNutt climbed the steps of the lifeguard shack, he detached the circular ‘sensor’ from the end of the bar and examined its contents. He had loaded fifty high-powered rounds into the custom drum magazine. He checked the barrel and the stock that been disguised as the unit’s shaft and stabilizer, then pulled himself on the roof of the stand. By the time he reached the edge, he had reassembled the metal detector into its preferred configuration: an Armalite AR-30.308 Winchester sniper rifle.
‘I’m in position,’ McNutt informed the team.
‘Beta plan is a go,’ Cobb confirmed in his ear.
‘Beta — as in Beach Bum.’
‘No more jokes,’ Cobb snapped. ‘Watch our six.’
‘Can’t I do both?’ McNutt asked rhetorically.
The alpha plan was simple, as most plans were on paper. Sarah would infiltrate the mansion from the sky, find the package, secure it, and make her way back to the rooftop. From there, she would travel across the tops of several neighboring buildings until she could safely descend to street level.
As for Cobb, he would blend in with the guards outside the house, ready to provide on-site support at a moment’s notice. McNutt and his sniper rifle would remain at a distance, in position to cover their escape. Meanwhile, Garcia would monitor all electronic aspects of the operation and update them on the status of everyone involved: the guards, the Feds, and innocent bystanders.
Unfortunately, plans change.
Now that the Russians had been alerted to their activities, the team had to adapt to the situation. Using real-time satellite images, Garcia was able to direct Cobb and Sarah into the shadows of the nearby houses and through the first wave of guards. The duo were more than a block from Kozlov’s mansion, but they were far from safe. They knew his henchmen were somewhere in the dark behind them, and stopping only closed the distance.
‘They’re hunting in packs like wild dogs,’ Garcia informed them. ‘The good news is they don’t have your scent. The bad news is they’re getting close.’
Cobb slipped off his soggy jacket. ‘Civilians?’
‘Plenty,’ Garcia said. ‘But it will be tough to blend in. Everyone knows everyone in this part of town. The only visitors are here for the beach.’
Cobb smiled. ‘That’s exactly what I had in mind.’
‘What do you mean?’ Sarah asked, confused.
He inspected her from head to toe. ‘Take off your pants.’
‘Excuse me?’ she barked. ‘What the hell do you mean, “take your pants off”? What exactly do you think-’
Cobb brought a finger to his lips, asking her to stop.
Normally, he would have reached out and clamped his hand over someone’s mouth, ensuring his or her silence. But he had the feeling that with Sarah, such action might have resulted in the loss of a finger … or a testicle.
‘Look at yourself,’ he explained. ‘You’re
‘How does taking off my pants make things better?’
McNutt chimed in. ‘In my experience, it never makes things
Cobb removed his shirt, exposing washboard abs. He wasn’t as fit as he had been in his twenties, but he was still in better shape than most. ‘Kozlov saw you in the catsuit. We have to assume he spread the word to all his guards. They’ll be looking for someone dressed in black.’
‘Fine!’ Sarah conceded. She quickly unlaced her booties, kicked them off, and peeled off the lower half of her suit. Standing there in a black thong, she mockingly posed for Cobb. ‘Happy?’
He turned his head from the athletic blonde, focusing his attention on his shoes and socks. She was stunning, he had to admit, but there was a time and place to acknowledge it. That sure as hell wasn’t now. ‘What about your bra?’
‘Screw you!’ she snapped. ‘I’m not showing you my boobs!’
‘Now we’re talking!’ McNutt said, trying to find her in his sniper’s scope. ‘Should I get undressed, too?’
Cobb tried to explain as he took off his own pants. Underneath, he was wearing a pair of boxer briefs that looked like swimming trunks. ‘That’s
‘Oh,’ she said, finally understanding his meaning. ‘It’s a sports bra.’
‘Great. Hurry and take off your top.’
She rolled her eyes. ‘My prom date said the exact same thing.’
Cobb smiled. ‘You can tell me about that later. For now, let’s worry about getting out of here.’ He changed his focus to his earpiece. ‘McNutt, how we looking?’
‘Good enough for a threesome.’
‘Focus!’ Cobb demanded. ‘Are we clear?’
‘Not really,’ McNutt answered, ‘but the situation isn’t going to get better anytime soon. You should move now before it’s too late.’
Cobb nodded at Sarah, who looked like a swimsuit model in her bra and panties. She reluctantly stuffed her catsuit in a trash barrel as they made their way onto the beach. Cobb put his arm around her shoulder to complete the look of two lovers headed for a late-night swim, but the only thing bulging in his shorts was a concealed pistol.
Koontz called for backup from the van while Callahan started his search for the two intruders. He knew he was taking a big risk by putting himself in the line of fire while his partner stayed behind, but Callahan saw this was a special opportunity. If they could prove through eyewitness testimony that Kozlov’s vault was filled with stolen art, then they could get the warrants they needed to search the mansion.
In Callahan’s mind,
No more vans. No more stakeouts. No more bullshit.
He would
