The third guard complied and a few minutes later, all the cabinet doors were open. DJ was thunderstruck. There were enough guns here to stage a revolution.

DJ dumped the contents of his duffel bag on the passenger seat of the panel van, then handed the bag to the guard. “Three rifles. Ten boxes of ammo. Six handguns. Fill it.”

The man sprang into action and a minute later returned with the bag mostly full. “Here,” he said, his hands shaking.

“Explosives?”

The man swallowed. “There’s some C-4, but it’s in the safe. Dynamite is in the cabinets, though.”

It would have to do. “Bring a box and put it in the back of the van.”

The man complied, scurrying like a mouse. When he was done, DJ checked the contents of the bag before stowing it on the floorboard of the van. “Keys.”

The man handed him the keys. “I did what you said. I’m gonna go now.”

“You must be new,” DJ said dryly.

“Real new. My first night was last week.”

“Should have picked a different boss.” DJ shot the man in the head, firing a second time before checking his pulse to be sure he was dead. He found the garage door opener in the van and hit the switch. When the door rose, he wasn’t sure what he’d find, but he was pleasantly surprised to see no one there.

He drove down the driveway and past the black sedan to where he’d left the Honda Civic. Leaving the head of security’s phone in the van, he transferred the box of dynamite and the duffel bag full of weapons from the van to the Civic, then slid behind its wheel. And drove away.

Two in the win column. If Kowalski had been home, he hadn’t done a thing to save his men. Hell, the man probably had a panic room or some kind of a bunker he could hide in.

If he hadn’t been home, he’d be hearing all about this from his missus.

Either way, DJ had gotten what he’d come for.

ROCKLIN, CALIFORNIA

MONDAY, MAY 29, 4:00 A.M.

Tom bolted upright in bed, waking Liza. Hearing the ringing of a phone, she propped up on her elbow to see him grabbing at all three of his cells, looking adorably confused.

“It’s this one,” she said, taking the other two from his hands. “The one that says ‘Jeff Bunker’ on the screen. You want to touch the button that says ‘accept.’ ”

He gave her the stink-eye as he answered the call. “Jeff? . . . Well, yeah, I was asleep, but it’s all right. What do you have?”

Liza sat up, giving him a stink-eye of her own. Speaker, she mouthed.

“Gonna put you on speaker, if that’s okay?” He did so, then said, “Liza is here, just so you know.”

Jeff was silent a moment, then cackled. “She’s there? In your bed? Dammit, Liza.”