Nic looked back at the property. He could see a light shining out of one of the upstairs bedrooms at the rear of the home. The gate did indeed hang open, and the security station appeared unmanned. Maybe Verbeek wasn’t even living here yet, but better not to take chances. Nic stepped out, but instead of heading over to the gate, he moved to the rear of the BearCat and donned his tactical gear. He slung an M4A1 assault rifle at his side but checked his Sig Sauer, grabbing a few extra magazines. If a tactical entry was necessary, the pistol gave him better range of movement around tight corners and would prove more effective in close quarters combat.

Carter joined him and started slipping on a set of the body armor. “You two wait here and let me do a recon first,” Nic said.

“Are you sure? I can handle myself in a fight, kid.”

“I know that, but I can move quieter on my own. And right now, we may be able to learn more by stealth than force.”

Nic handed Carter one of the handheld radios, adjusted the frequency, and said, “I won’t speak if I’m not able, but if you hear me key my radio four times in a row, you get ready to back me up.”

Carter nodded, but from the back of the BearCat, Burke said, “Do I get a gun?”

In near perfect unison, Nic and Carter looked to the young doctor and said, “No!”

Burke’s brow furrowed like a child being scolded, and to Nic’s eyes, the genius, who had proven himself so intelligent and capable, truly looked his age.

“Don’t worry, doc,” he said. “I’ll probably just find one of Verbeek’s security guys up there with a prostitute or something. Verbeek’s probably not even here.”

Nic moved toward the gate and pushed it forward only enough to slip through the opening and take a low position behind the security station. Using a small extending tactical mirror, he peered over the wall and through the glass into the small guard shack. Two men in rent-a-cop uniforms lay in pools of crimson on the floor. A broken coffee cup rested beside one of the men, the black liquid mixing with the blood.

Checking around the corner with the tactical mirror, Nic rounded the backside of the security shack and entered through the unlocked door. A display of monitors mostly showed the exterior of the compound, but on one of the views, he saw a tall, blond man pacing back and forth on a back balcony. He appeared to be talking animatedly into a cell phone.

Nic exited the building and, while still trying not to make a sound, rushed around the building in order to come up beneath the blond man undetected.

Up close, through the slats of the boards in the balcony, Nic could getter a better view of the man. He was tall and well-muscled. He wore a white suit with a black shirt. The left side of the suit bulged in such a way to indicate a large handgun hidden beneath its folds. The man’s voice was strong and confident and carried an Australian accent.