No Fortunate Son: A Pike Logan Thriller by Brad Taylor

Author:Brad Taylor [Taylor, Brad]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Literature & Fiction, Action & Adventure, Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, Mystery, Thriller & Suspense, War & Military, Contemporary, United States, Thrillers & Suspense, Military, Spies & Politics, Terrorism, Suspense, Thriller, Contemporary Fiction, Thrillers
ISBN: 052595399X
Amazon: B00KWG9NIM
Publisher: Dutton Adult
Published: 2014-12-30T06:00:00+00:00

43

It took about forty-five minutes for Dunkin to download the data from God’s Eye, then massage it with his software programs. When he was finished, he’d given us the damage. Using the pictures and his own internal mapping from the Brussels server, there was no way to get to any of the rooms from the outside without being seen by security, with the exception of one. There was a single break between the various camera angles and the corner room on the first floor. The one that butted up to rue de l’Écuyer, the only road next to the hotel that allowed cars.

The good news was that right next to the window of the target room was one of the hotel security cameras, posted at an angle to see the street. Dunkin had studied it and said we could slave from the cable coming out. We couldn’t stop it from recording, but he could see everything that was tied to the surveillance array and give us early warning about anything that happened inside the building.

Looking thoughtful, Jennifer had analyzed the problem and said, “I suppose we could pretend to be a maintenance crew. Get a painting ladder or something and go to work right there. Slave the camera, then work on the window. I could get inside and Pike could give me cover. Can we get some government maintenance uniforms? Can the Taskforce do that on short notice?”

I thought the whole scene was cute. Her brow scrunched up, dissecting the problem, trying to find a solution. Too bad she was way, way off.

She saw my grin and said, “What? Why is that stupid?”

“It’s not. But that’s way too much work when we have a monkey.”

She heard the words and said, “Whoa. Wait. It’s raining cats and dogs outside. I can’t climb in this weather.”

Jennifer was a former Cirque du Soleil performer and about the best climber I had ever seen. She could scale a marble wall and had used that skill on a number of occasions to pull my ass out of the fire.

I said, “Rain is in our favor. Nobody will see. We try to fake a maintenance crew and we’re only good until someone asks me a question, regardless of our uniforms. And we don’t have the time to prep for that. It would take a couple of days.”

She looked at Dunkin, who stared at his shoes, not wanting to be drawn into the conversation. Disgusted, she said, “You’re really going to put all this on my shoulders?”

“No. You get in, then get to the laundry room in the garage. Unlock the door. Then we’ll both be in. Behind the security.”

She looked at the ceiling, breathing through her nose, containing her aggravation. She said, “What do I do if I’m caught on the side of the building?”

“Show them your wet blouse.”

Her head snapped to me, the glare like white-hot lava, and I held up my hands, laughing. “I’ll be there. I’ll handle anything from the ground. You won’t have to worry about that.

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