Edge drove the Nissan down the dirt road, turned right about a half mile from the gate onto a side road that he had spotted on their earlier drive. The road ran parallel to the southern boundary of the property. In a wide spot, he backed the car in for a speedy exit and killed the engine.

The night was mostly dark, with enough clouds to intermittently hide the moon. He’d bought a black car for a reason, and it was paying off tonight. Always better to be prepared.

Skye quietly closed her door and walked around to where Edge stood in front of the trunk. He pulled out the can of face paint and opened it.

“Hold still.” Catching her chin, he ran a blackened finger down each of her cheeks and down her nose. Her skin felt soft beneath his touch and smooth as glass. A ripple of heat went through him. He wanted to peel off her dark clothes and admire the rest of her, run his hands all over her sweetly feminine body.

“My turn,” Skye said. Taking the can out of his hand, she drew several black lines down his cheeks and across his forehead, then screwed the lid back on and tossed the can back in the canvas bag.

Edge took out the bolt cutters and stuffed them into the backpack, slid the straps of the pack over his shoulders, and quietly closed the trunk. They had checked their weapons and ammo before they’d left the motel. The trick was not having to use them.

Following the side road on foot, they reached the spot they had chosen on the map, made a 45-degree turn, and started across the open country in front of them toward the southern boundary of the compound.

The ground felt solid beneath Edge’s feet, but there wasn’t much cover, just a field full of dry meadow grass, and a few stubby trees and bushes. The mountains were close, but here in the valley, it was fairly flat.

“This way,” Edge said quietly, spotting the shallow ravine he had seen on Google Earth that ran the same direction they were headed. Traversing the bottom, staying out of sight, they reached the point where the ravine came to an end. Above it, a chain-link fence marked the property line.

Edge pulled out the bolt cutters, found a spot in the fence hidden by a leafy bush, and cut a square hole big enough for them to crawl through. In seconds, they were inside, the fence back in place behind the shrub.

Grapevines covered several acres of the property, he saw. He had noticed a sign for a winery along the highway and wondered if Henson supplied the grapes.

They moved silently forward, skirting the vines running parallel to the fence line. Edge spotted a guard standing at the corner of the property where the south boundary intersected with the east and motioned for Skye to drop down out of sight.

Patrolling the east fence, a second guard walked up beside the first, and they began to chat, one of them laughing at something the other said. Both men carried AR-15s and had handguns clipped to their belts.