Eddie rolled his eyes and glanced at Jim. “It was back in the Middle Ages and he still hasn’t gotten over it.”

“Why so long ago?”

“We got put on ice,” Eddie said. “We were a little more fallen than the bosses were comfortable with.”

Adrian grinned like a motherfucker. “As I mentioned, I like the ladies.”

“Usually in pairs.” Eddie put Dog down and stroked his ears. “We’ll be back, Dog.”

Dog didn’t seem happy with the parting and began circling all of the feet in the room, including the couch’s—which seemed to suggest he thought the piece of furniture was on backup.

Not exactly what Jim had in mind.

Nope, he was going in with something a little more powerful.

Going over to the empty bookshelves in the far corner, he pulled out a black duffel bag and unzipped the thing, revealing a stainless-steel case that was about four feet by three feet. Running his forefinger over its keypad, he released the lock and opened the top. Inside, the three guns that were packed in egg padding caught no light whatsoever on their matte gray finishes and he left the assault rifle where it was. Of the pair of SIGs, the grips of which had been custom-designed for him, he took the one that fit his right palm.

Adrian shook his head, as if the auto-loader was nothing more than a squirt gun. “Just what do you think you’re going to do with that piece of metal there, Dirty Harry?”

“It’s my safety blanket, how ’bout that.”

Jim put the gun through a quick check, locked up the briefcase, and stashed the duffel. The ammo was behind the cans in the cabinets over the sink, and he took enough to fill the clip.

“You can’t shoot her with that,” Eddie said softly.

“No offense—but until I see it, I’m not going to believe it.”

“And that is why you will fail.”

Adrian cursed and hit the door. “Great, you’ve got him channeling Yoda again. Can we get moving before he levitates my fucking bike?”

As Jim locked things up and they all went down the stairs, Dog took up res on the back of the couch, and watched them out the window. He pawed at the glass a little, like he was protesting the fact that he’d been left out of the action.

“Let’s take my truck,” Jim said as he hit the gravel. “Less noise.”

“And it has a radio, right?” With tragic concentration, Adrian started warming up his voice, sounding like a moose being backstroked by a cheese grater.

Jim shook his head at Eddie as doors were opened. “How do you stand the racket?”

“Selective deafness.”

“Teach me, master.”