Page 25 of Blake

Emmett checked his watch. “Seventeen minutes, forty-two seconds from perimeter to breach.”

Blake grimaced. Too long.

Way too damn long.

The service entrance opened into what appeared to be a massive commercial-grade kitchen. Stainless-steel appliances gleamed beneath the faint glow of emergency lighting installed near the floor. Marble counters stretched across the room, and an island large enough to seat ten people took up the center.

Draven looked around. “You think he’d notice if I took the espresso machine?”

“Yes.” Emmett’s answer was immediate.

Blake fought a grin as they continued through the house. Their footsteps remained nearly silent against the polished floors.

The hallway opened into a massive foyer with twin curved staircases sweeping toward the second level. A crystal chandelier hung overhead. Beyond it, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the dark grounds they'd just crossed.

Blake scanned the room. No movement was detected. No threat.

Emmett stopped in the foyer’s center, then looked directly at one of the cameras mounted near the ceiling.

“We’re inside,” he announced loudly.

Whitmore had agreed to a seventy-two-hour window for the assessment, but the exact timing had been left entirely up to Echo Team. The whole point was to test his security without giving anyone advance warning.

Knowing what was coming, they all slid their night-vision goggles to the tops of their heads. Right on cue, they were engulfed in a sea of bright light.

A second later, slow applause echoed from the second floor.

“Well done, gentlemen.”

A man in his late fifties appeared at the top of the staircase. Silver strands mixed with his thick, dark hair. His expensive slacks and button-down shirt looked strangely out of place against the team’s tactical gear.

A moment later, Gwen joined them from the hallway since the exercise had officially ended.

“I won’t take offense to the term ‘gentlemen’,” she told the homeowner. “Since I never made it inside.”

“I was told that was intentional.” The wealthy man smiled.

“It was,” Gwen confirmed.

“Mostly,” Draven added.

Gwen sent him a scowl.

Their client laughed.

Malcom Whitmore had made his fortune in commercial real estate before expanding into technology and private equity. According to the financial information Echo Team had reviewed before accepting the contract, the man was worth somewhere north of three hundred million dollars.

Which explained the mansion.

It also explained why Whitmore was worried someone might try to get inside.

Their client descended the stairs as Emmett lowered his weapon and fully removed the goggles from his head.

“So?” the businessman asked when he reached the team. “How bad is it?”

Emmett looked to Blake.

“Your perimeter is solid,” he informed the wealthy man. “Cameras are positioned well, and the overlapping fields of view made getting across the property difficult.”