He knew from the GPS locator on Yoshida’s phone and Google Earth pictures of the residence that the bad guys had congregated in an outbuilding just beyond the mansion itself. Loria’s home was a sprawling white monstrosity designed in the style of a French villa. It was quite different from standard for the area, but he supposed that was the point. To be set apart. To be better than the neighbors.

He pulled the truck up to the security gate, and when the guard came to the window, he said, “Please tell Mr. Loria and Mr. Yoshida that Dr. Burke is here to see them, and that they will definitely want to hear me out.”

The next part of the plan was where he had to rely on his evaluation of the reactions of other people, which was admittedly not his best subject. He knew from his prior research that the outbuilding was where Ty Loria housed an impressive car collection. The plan hinged on adding one more vehicle to that collection, the flatbed truck he was now driving. But if the guards made them leave the vehicle or refused to let them in, then things would get infinitely more complicated and dangerous as they would have to resort to Constable Price’s questionable ram-it-down-their-throats method.

Thankfully, the guard returned as the gate started to open. “Step out of the vehicle, so we can check you.”

They complied, and the first guard was joined by a second as they patted them down for weapons and recording devices. Then the second guard proceeded to search the truck. Burke hoped that this didn’t take long. He knew that the more time they spent at the gate, the odds of success for his plan decreased. They found and confiscated the Glock 23 from the truck’s glove box, but then the first guard said, “Take the drive to the left and pull inside the metal building. Keep it in first gear and don’t try anything stupid.”

“Absolutely. Stupid isn’t in my nature.”

They climbed back into the truck and followed the guard’s directions. A massive sliding door parted in the side of the metal building at their approach. Burke noticed a large mercenary with an MP5 machine gun pushing it open.

Pulling the flatbed inside, Burke’s heart fell. He had read that Loria had quite an impressive car collection, but he hadn’t expected this. The garage had checkerboard floors and clearly was insulated and environmentally controlled. Vintage signs sporting the names Chevrolet, Ford, Texaco, and more lined the walls. Loria’s collection was only about twenty cars, but what the stockpile lacked in quantity it more than compensated in quality.

Burke had never been a fan of expensive sports cars or the like. He was an old school American muscle car aficionado. Apparently, Ty Loria shared his affinity. In just a glance, Burke spotted a 1967 Chevrolet Corvette L88, a 1967 Shelby GT500, a 1970 Hemi Cuda Convertible, a 1969 Chevrolet Camaro ZL1, a 1971 Pontiac GTO Judge Convertible, and a bevy of others that made his mouth water. He considered changing the plan, in fear of damaging these treasures, but he fought back the urge.