Tonight, however, he never felt better. In just his booties and his wet suit, he crouched on the trail, his eyes adjusting. “I’m in position,” he said softly, his ear coms now working under the hood of his wet suit.

“Colt’s got most of the security team on the dock now. They’re yelling at him, but the boat is tangled in the mangroves. You’re clear.”

“Good copy, Dodge.” How Ranger wished he had his P226 tucked into his belt, but the last thing they needed was a slew of casualties, the appearance of the local law, and any hope of procuring the bioweapon destroyed.

No, he’d go in armed with his combat knife, and really, if he did this right, no one would get hurt.

He slipped out of cover over to a dwarf palm, crouched, scoured the area, and headed toward the house.

Motion detector lights would flicker on if they picked up anything larger than a raccoon, but he’d already located the lights, so he ran a path in his mind, through the landscaping, finally hitting his knees as he scrabbled toward the outer wall of the house.

Shouting lifted and hung in the air from the north. He glanced around the edge of the wall, across the deep aqua pool and the dark-green grass to the far docks.

Colt stood on the seat of his boat, yelling at a handful of heavily armed thugs.

“Don’t make them too angry, bro,” Ranger said softly into the coms. Last thing he wanted was to go diving for Colt’s body. Or even to have to abort his search for Pete and divert to getting Colt out of an unmatched brawl.

Although the thought of a good fight also steamed his blood.

“Too late,” Dodge said. “Hurry up.”

Roger. Ranger crept along the edge of the house, tried a door, found it locked, then darted across a trellised patio and found a sliding glass door, the room inside dark.

He eased it open and slipped inside, too aware, suddenly, of the slick floor under his wet boots. Unzipping them, he yanked them off and stuck them into a pocket of his vest.

They’d identified movement last night with the drone, had pinpointed where lights had gone on in the house. Noemi had thought she’d seen her father outlined in one of the windows, but she couldn’t be sure. Still, Ranger had obtained some old online photos of the place when it was up for sale a year ago and mapped out the location in his head.

Now, he kept low and walked the length of the great room, stopping just before he hit the stairway.

“Colt’s still tangled up in the mangroves,” Dodge said, “but it looks like someone is headed to the house. Get a move on.”

Ranger headed up the stairs, his feet quiet on the landing. Got his bearings at the top.