Now he, too, was on White’s private payroll, along with another retired spook—a female—and a black ops guy who’d worked in Russia, along with Pete.

And probably more, if Ranger were to guess.

“Dual entry on my call,” Ham said softly.

Ranger glanced at Roy, who nodded.

Fraser also found out that Roy—real name, Royal Benjamin—and Orion Starr went way back to a day when Orion had been one of the pararescue troopers on that fateful day in Afghanistan. So it was a good ole boys reunion when Orion showed up to join the rest of Ham’s team.

Ranger had been sorta—just a little—jealous of the camaraderie of Jones, Inc. The inside jokes, the ribbing, the pregame routines as they checked their gear and talked through the mission.

Which was why he’d bought his pretty wife a dress and planned a date that had sorta gone down differently but exactly as he’d hoped. With a firm reminder in his head that this life wasn’t his.

Not after today.

But right now, with the voice of Scarlett Hathaway, Ham’s coms person, in his ear giving them drone awareness updates, with Ranger ticking down the seconds to when he’d emerge from the waters like some swamp creature, with Ham and Jake indicating they were in position . . .

He was dialed in, the point man for operation Red Redemption, Ham’s name, but Ranger liked it.

“Three, two, one . . . execute,” Ham said.

Shots went off, quick and quiet from the east side of the compound. Ham’s team, with Colt attached. They’d had to work through the tangle of forest, no small feat given the thick brush of southern Florida.

Ranger would much rather take the way of the water, where he felt like a seal, slick, fast, unstoppable. Even with his current eyesight challenges.

“Two down,” Jake said. “We have three more engaged.”

“Heat sources are outside the building, Range,” said Scarlett, probably reading her drone’s stats. “To the west and east. One remaining, near the garage on the northeast side.”

Interesting, but he’d make his way to the pool house first.

He met Roy’s eyes in the darkness, nodded. Execute.

Then he dropped the rebreather, set the watertight bag for his M4 on the dock, shed his fins, and pulled himself up. Unzipping the case, he retrieved his weapon and scanned the area.

All clear.

Roy did the same behind him.

Ranger shed his scuba kit, hid his equipment by the dock, and in a moment had cleared the space, then ducked down into the thick foliage beside the dock, on land.

Roy landed on the other side, also buried in the shadows.

Ranger indicated their next stop, a clump of towering pine trees, and Roy nodded. In a moment they were there. More popping sounded from the west side of the compound. Shouting, most of it in Russian.