Forced Pair by C. Ryan Bymaster

Author:C. Ryan Bymaster [Bymaster, C. Ryan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: C. Ryan Bymaster
Published: 2013-11-04T05:00:00+00:00

XII

Dent was loaded up with the essentials. He had his two biometric palm-ID Glocks, his EB, and a phone with an encoded military SIM card. He’d left the nonessentials back at Fischer’s sanctuary — NVG’s, as it was the middle of the day, two ARs that had been stored in his trunk, and the package. Fischer provided a few other items that may come in handy, complete with a run-of-the-mill backpack to put them in.

It was less than a forty-minute drive to the gated six-acre community on the outskirts of Diamond Bar. Dent was parked in a residential neighborhood one block over and across the four-lane street that defined the western edge of the sprawling community. The place was so large that he’d had Fischer download the map to his EB. Along with the community map was the floor plan of Grant Chisholme’s palatial estate. In California, no matter how wealthy you were, any changes or additions made to your place of residence required the proper sign-off by contractors and city officials, as well as the community’s own form of a homeowners’ association. And it was because of this that Dent now had a detailed layout of Chisholme’s four-story mansion. The added elevators, the second kitchen added upstairs, the temperature-controlled wine cellar below the mansion, and even the sixty-eight-step wooden stairway that led from the eastern patio down a pine and eucalyptus covered slope to the small pond that was shared by six neighboring houses.

It was no problem, once he’d shouldered his backpack, to scale the twelve-foot metal fence near the street. Then, it was simply a matter of navigating his way around the community by use of the downloaded map, cutting through three heavily vegetated hills, to finally find himself a stone’s throw away from the mirrored glass, gleaming marble, detailed stone, and wood building that housed one of the most influential people in Southern California, possibly even the entire country.

He shrugged off one shoulder strap and rifled through the backpack. The items Fischer had recommended clinked gently together. A white-powder smoke grenade, an EMP grenade, and an ePulse fuse which Fischer said should produce a lethargic eField within a twenty-foot radius once triggered. The smoke grenade — which never once had he had need of such an item in his entire military life — and the EMP grenade seemed pointless items. In his early years in military training, one of his barracks mates had accidentally set off a white-powder smoke grenade inside the shared barracks. It took weeks of cleaning before the entire squad had finally managed to erase all evidence of the fine white powder that clung to everything and permeated every nook and cranny in the large barracks.

He could think of no possible situation in which the smoke would be a necessary tool and the EMP, if used first, would render the smoke grenade inefficient, as well as the ID palm readers on both of his side-holstered firearms. The binoculars, though, were useful.

Resetting the backpack, Dent put binocs to his eyes with one hand while shadowing the front lenses with the other.

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