Jason’s plan had always been a simple one: distract Reece, then get in quickly and quietly, but very quickly and very quietly. Reece was a predator, and even predators could panic. Usually, that meant a hard run in a straight line, but Reece was the crazy kind of predator; and crazy was hard to predict. So Jason kept one eye on the house, and the other on the cops. His father was agitated and uncertain; they all were.

Right now, that was good.

The more the better.

And the cops were coming faster, too. Not a car here or there, but three or four at a time, light bars strobing. Jason waited for critical mass, then rolled left, and dropped over the wall. Best he could tell, the camera angles were almost perfect, but not quite. There were blind spots, and he used them, quick but smooth, stopping if he thought he needed to. He couldn’t go straight at the house, and remain unseen. It was more like, Twenty feet due north, then ten more at a diagonal. He stopped more than once to get his bearings. It made for slow going, but the house was close, tall and massive, with multiple wings. That was the tricky part—not just getting inside but finding his brother, and getting back out before the cops worked up sufficient nerve to storm the gate.

He was counting on the time.

And the alarm codes.

If the codes were bullshit, he’d have to improvise, but he was good at that. Violence, speed, sudden changes to whatever plan had blown up in his face. It was a skill set he’d honed in three years of war, the difference between living and dying, going home empty, or getting the job done. In all those hard years, Jason had learned to not expect much from the world, but sometimes it could be a giving place.

Kind of.

When the shots came, they were close, two quick blasts, followed by three more. Jason took off at a dead run. No pain, no thoughts of pain. He had a location, but knew these things, too: it was doubtful Gibby had the gun, and the cops would for damn sure be coming in. Jason weighed his options in terms of seconds, not minutes. He went hot on the M16.

Five seconds, straight ahead.

Left at the corner.