casually looked over to where Townes had positioned himself on the other side of the open-sided courtyard, his cell phone still glued to his hand. He’d been texting messages practically all afternoon, only looking up from his phone if Ryland went into the house or for a walk on the lonely beach. He certainly wasn’t going to sit inside with Fallon and Crest, combing over stacks of endless files just to prove that a mysterious rogue quasi-governmental organization existed. It didn’t matter if it did. He was the sole proprietor of his mind and body, so it made no difference despite what Fallon mistakenly thought the discovery might lead to.
The thing of it was…Townes was no longer looking at his phone with the blank detachment he’d been displaying for the past few hours. His interest was where Ryland had first noticed something was amiss, only to have that something fade from sight. Both men sat there for a good twenty minutes, assessing the land, sea, and air to their direct front. Well, this would certainly change things if it turned out that some group would be willing to go to such extreme lengths to reinstate Ryland’s former career. He smiled wryly at the notion that Fallon might have actually been onto something.
“Ryland, why don’t you go inside?” Townes gave more of an order than a suggestion. “Now.”
“And miss all the fun?” Ryland slowly stood, his gaze never leaving the horizon. He glanced behind him to where the rest of Crest’s team was now undoubtedly scrambling to figure out what it was out on the ocean that had caught their sentry’s attention. He downed the last sip of his whiskey, enjoying the lengthy spicy finish. A shot of adrenaline accompanied recent developments. It was most welcome as he thought over his available choices. “On second thought, Townes, I think I’ll take your advice and refill my glass.”
Townes was already speaking with someone on the phone, no doubt notifying their people inhabiting the two fishing crafts. They had a clearer vantage point over the pitching skyline, but Ryland had something better in mind. Fallon looked up from her laptop when he passed through the French doors, while Crest was in the process of being updated on the potential situation on his cell. His team was nothing if not efficient, but they currently didn’t have the manpower to stop an organization with the backing of a black bag government agency. He conceded that there were gaps in their overall coverage, although not without note.
“It appears we might be expecting some unwanted company,” Ryland explained to Fallon, whose gaze kept flickering between the two men. He didn’t stop to clarify, but did manage to give her one warning. “All exits will be covered, so be ready on my count.”
Ryland didn’t waste time as he maneuvered his way through the house and upstairs to Fallon’s closet, where he’d stored his weapon’s case. It wasn’t long until he had his LT104 equipped VS-6 7-42X56mm Leupold scope in hand. He opened the window and kneeled down back in the room, giving himself ample room to view the patch of skyline he’d noted before.
He instantly caught sight of the two ships that Crest had anchored off of the shore. They were both twenty-eight foot Boston Whaler 285 Conquests. There was nothing to see there, so Ryland concentrated farther out. It took a moment, but he finally caught sight of multiple 11-meter Rigid Hull Inflatable Boats modeled after the U.S. Navy’s special warfare craft coming fast their way. Fallon came running into the room, a little breathless in her inquiries.
“We need to leave. Now.” Fallon grabbed a bag of some sort out of her closet, taking the time to lift one of his as her footsteps indicated she’d walked back to the door. Ryland didn’t take his eyes off of the events unfolding in front of them. He was mentally counting the men aboard the speedboats to see what they were dealing with. “We’ve been compromised somehow, damn
The thing of it was…Townes was no longer looking at his phone with the blank detachment he’d been displaying for the past few hours. His interest was where Ryland had first noticed something was amiss, only to have that something fade from sight. Both men sat there for a good twenty minutes, assessing the land, sea, and air to their direct front. Well, this would certainly change things if it turned out that some group would be willing to go to such extreme lengths to reinstate Ryland’s former career. He smiled wryly at the notion that Fallon might have actually been onto something.
“Ryland, why don’t you go inside?” Townes gave more of an order than a suggestion. “Now.”
“And miss all the fun?” Ryland slowly stood, his gaze never leaving the horizon. He glanced behind him to where the rest of Crest’s team was now undoubtedly scrambling to figure out what it was out on the ocean that had caught their sentry’s attention. He downed the last sip of his whiskey, enjoying the lengthy spicy finish. A shot of adrenaline accompanied recent developments. It was most welcome as he thought over his available choices. “On second thought, Townes, I think I’ll take your advice and refill my glass.”
Townes was already speaking with someone on the phone, no doubt notifying their people inhabiting the two fishing crafts. They had a clearer vantage point over the pitching skyline, but Ryland had something better in mind. Fallon looked up from her laptop when he passed through the French doors, while Crest was in the process of being updated on the potential situation on his cell. His team was nothing if not efficient, but they currently didn’t have the manpower to stop an organization with the backing of a black bag government agency. He conceded that there were gaps in their overall coverage, although not without note.
“It appears we might be expecting some unwanted company,” Ryland explained to Fallon, whose gaze kept flickering between the two men. He didn’t stop to clarify, but did manage to give her one warning. “All exits will be covered, so be ready on my count.”
Ryland didn’t waste time as he maneuvered his way through the house and upstairs to Fallon’s closet, where he’d stored his weapon’s case. It wasn’t long until he had his LT104 equipped VS-6 7-42X56mm Leupold scope in hand. He opened the window and kneeled down back in the room, giving himself ample room to view the patch of skyline he’d noted before.
He instantly caught sight of the two ships that Crest had anchored off of the shore. They were both twenty-eight foot Boston Whaler 285 Conquests. There was nothing to see there, so Ryland concentrated farther out. It took a moment, but he finally caught sight of multiple 11-meter Rigid Hull Inflatable Boats modeled after the U.S. Navy’s special warfare craft coming fast their way. Fallon came running into the room, a little breathless in her inquiries.
“We need to leave. Now.” Fallon grabbed a bag of some sort out of her closet, taking the time to lift one of his as her footsteps indicated she’d walked back to the door. Ryland didn’t take his eyes off of the events unfolding in front of them. He was mentally counting the men aboard the speedboats to see what they were dealing with. “We’ve been compromised somehow, damn
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