For a minute, Gabe continued peering through the dark. Then he raced down the staircase, pulled on his boots, and crossed to the door. He was about to open it when he glanced down at his backpack. He removed the hunting knife and slipped on the pack with its rope and collection of tools.

Then, hefting the knife in his hand, he slipped out of the bedroom and moved cautiously, silently, down the stone staircase.

CHAPTER 62

It had been stupid to yell out from the tower the way he had. Absolutely stupid.

Hunting knife in hand, Gabe reprimanded himself as he cautiously descended to the main floor.

What now?

He tried without success to get his brain around the answer to who could have found them within just six hours. Drew's belief that few, if any, outside his immediate family knew of The Aerie had to have been misguided. Someone else knew and had put the pieces together. Gabe had heard that of all the investigative services, including the CIA and FBI, the Secret Service was the most resourceful, efficient, and imaginative. It wouldn't surprise him to learn that The Aerie was in one of their files, along with its history and maybe even some blueprints.

Hopefully, Secret Service agents were the ones who were laying siege to the castle right now. In truth, although Gabe had chosen to suspect anyone and everyone as betraying Drew, the president's protective detachment would have been the ones he trusted first. One thing Gabe was certain of—the forms outside weren't his mind playing tricks. He envisioned a Secret Service SWAT team, or the equivalent, silently positioning themselves in the night.

It would take some serious work and preparation to breach the walls of the castle. Probably whoever was out there would take the more straightforward approach of simply setting aside stealth and blowing the massive portcullis to toothpicks.

What in the hell have I done? Gabe wondered once again.

The West Tower staircase opened into the far end of the dining room. To reach Drew, he would have to cross the great room to the basement staircase. Gabe frantically tried to reason out what there was to be gained by alerting Drew before he knew what they were up against. Would Drew agree to stay where he was until it was clear how much of a threat there was to him? At least for the moment he was locked in the bunker and reasonably secure. But he also had the cell phone. Gabe considered and quickly rejected the possibility of trying to sneak out and get down the mountain to ask for help.

Maybe whoever was outside would be unable to breach the walls or blow up the portcullis. Maybe they were just kids looking for mischief. Maybe . . .

Harsh whispers echoing from the kitchen, no more than twenty feet away, stopped him short.

How in the hell had they gotten in?