Exit Strategy by Lena Diaz

Author:Lena Diaz [Diaz, Lena]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Goodreads: 23367394
Publisher: Avon
Published: 2014-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Day Three—­9:00 p.m.

Mason glanced at Sabrina lying on her belly on the ground beside him. She was keeping low like he’d instructed, her head barely visible above the ridge that looked down onto the EXIT building. Another quick look behind them reassured him that his truck was completely hidden, obscured by trees and bushes. If anyone inside EXIT looked across their parking lot, they wouldn’t notice him and Sabrina, or the truck.

He settled back down, resting his elbows on the dirt as he peered through his infrared binoculars at the newly renovated three-­story building. Most of the windows were dark, and uncovered by blinds, which gave him an unobstructed view. He’d been able to catch heat signatures passing the windows at regular intervals and had determined they were security guards.

One of them would come outside the side door every forty-­five minutes and make a circuit of the parking lot, shining his flashlight into the trees and bushes near the building. The route took fifteen minutes. Then he would go inside and head upstairs to the next level. Another guard would go downstairs on the far side of the building and tour the lower floor, then go out the side exactly thirty minutes after the other guard had come inside. Like clockwork, for the past three hours, that was the routine.

“What do you see?” Sabrina whispered beside him.

“The building looks empty, except for three signatures on infrared—­the security guards. What bothers me are the three cars parked by the maintenance shed right below us.”

“Why does that bother you? Three guards, three cars. Doesn’t that confirm the building is empty, except for the security guys?”

“Probably. Makes sense. But the company they work for may bus in new guards each shift and takes the others back to town since it’s such a long drive out here.”

“I’ve never heard of a company doing that.”

“I have.”

She sighed impatiently. “But you haven’t seen any other heat signatures.”

He tapped the side of his binoculars. “No. I haven’t.”

“So . . .”

“So I’m not worried enough about the cars to cancel, if that’s what you’re worried about. This late at night even a Type A like Cyprian should have gone home.”

“Great. Now, what do you plan to do about the guards?”

The worry in her voice had him lowering the binoculars. “Per your instructions,” he said drolly, “I’m not allowed to kill them. So I’ll drug the guard at the side door when we go in. The others we’ll avoid if possible. But if not, I’ll take care of them too.”

She leaned in and kissed him. Not a little peck but a full-­blown, getting-­him-­rock-­hard-­and-­wanting-­her kiss. When she pulled back he was aching.

“What was that for?” he bit out, none too happy to be sporting a hard-­on when he wasn’t in the position to do anything about it.

“It was a thank-­you.”

“Hm. You’re welcome,” he grumbled, shifting his legs and trying not to think about how good it had felt to make love to her.

Focus. Concentrate.

He shoved the tiny pair of binoculars in one of his jacket pockets.

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