They secured their NV visors and turned the devices on. Their world turned bright green. The ambient light from San Diego’s glow and surrounding houses gave the NV monoculars more input than they needed. They both turned the gains down a bit.

“We’ll make one pass with the headlights dark and return to this location.”

Harv began a slow drive down Jonel Road. They passed a horse pasture and several corrals on the right side. After thirty seconds or so, he asked Julio, “Which one?”

“Next house on the left.”

He studied the property as they rolled past. The access, also a dirt track, looked to be about seventy yards long. He saw the rear end of a light-colored van near the house. Three rows of mature citrus trees lined the left side of the driveway and extended all the way to the rear property corner. They’d provide good cover from that direction. Several smaller trees, probably jacarandas, partially obscured the house from view, but he saw several windows glowing brightly. He looked behind the Mercedes to gauge the wind. Dust from the tires drifted lazily to the northeast. Maybe three miles per hour. That reinforced his plan to use the citrus trees as cover. He’d be downwind from the house—important if there were dogs. His trust in Julio’s report was far from absolute. After another quarter of a mile or so, the road came to a dead end. Harv executed a U-turn and cruised past the house in the opposite direction.

He pulled to the shoulder at the point where Jonel became paved again and kept the engine running. They donned the radio gear, body armor, and belly packs. Next, they checked their suppressed Sigs and strapped Predator knives to their ankles. Time to make the call to Montez.

Nathan had their captive lean forward from the rear seat. “You try anything cute and you won’t finish your sentence. Do you doubt me?”

Julio shook his head.

“Tell him you had to take our vehicle because we slashed your tires. Keep it short.” Holding his Sig’s suppressor against Julio’s head, he scrolled down to the number Julio had supplied earlier, hit send, and pressed the speaker button.

The voice on the other end held no emotion. “Where are you?”

“We’re almost there, but I got to tell you something.”

“What?” Montez’s impatience crackled through the line.

“The guys that shot us up, they slashed the van’s tires. I had to take their car.”

“What about Hector and Pablo?

“They’re in the trunk.”

“What make and color is your vehicle?”

“A blue Mercedes.”

The cell signal ended.