52. Peter

52

PETER

A s they neared their target location, everything about this neighborhood screamed money and privilege—manicured lawns, luxury cars, and security that was meant to be seen. But knowing that beneath that polished veneer lurked something far darker made Peter think of a thin layer of glitter covering festering rot.

"Team One in position," Alfie's voice came through his earpiece.

Peter tapped his own piece once. "Acknowledged. Team Two, status?"

"Two minutes out," Bowen reported. "No suspicious activity on approach."

The backup teams would hang back and engage if and when needed. Peter had chosen his people carefully for this mission, balancing experience with the stomach for what they might encounter .

"Van moving into position now," Lyall reported. "Preparing to deploy the parabolic microphone."

The van was going to park in the neighbors' driveway. They were out of town, and last night, one of William's crew members had taken care of their front-facing camera, so it was delivering a prerecorded long loop of no activity so no one would notice the van parking on their property.

They didn't have a front gate, which was unusual for the neighborhood, but even if they did, it wouldn't have caused much of a challenge.

"Can you get anything from there?" Peter asked.

"The parabolic mic can reach, but it's tricky," Lyall said. "If the perps are upstairs or near a window, I'll catch it. If they're in the basement, though, it's more difficult."

Peter suspected that much of the illicit activity was happening in the basement, so that was a problem. "What's your issue with the basement?"

"Sound doesn't travel well through concrete," Lyall said. "We're looking at layers of insulation, stone, and probably a lot of ambient noise masking anything useful. I'll need to focus on external openings—basement windows, vents, maybe even the front door if it's ajar."

Peter rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. "I'm looking at the plans, and there is a basement window on that side of the house. If it's closed, I'll send a Guardian to open it."

"If they are really loud down there, I can hear it even with the window closed," Lyall said. "It will also come through pretty clearly if they talk near the window."

"How long until you are all set up?"

"Two minutes. The tripod is already prepped. Once I get the dish aligned, I'll tune it in. You'll have live audio in about ten minutes. Let's just cross our fingers that no one wonders what a news van is doing at their neighbors' house."

"You know what to say if anyone comes to ask."

They could thrall the person, or Drova could compel them into silence, but the easiest solution was a good cover story. They were filming a segment about luxury properties for sale in Beverly Hills, and they were waiting for their anchorwoman, who was running late.

"Let me know the second you hear anything."

"I will."

Peter tapped his earpiece once. "Prepare for the initial scan. Team One, move to set thermal imaging."

"Roger that." Jay's voice was barely a whisper.

Through the bulletproof window of their vehicle, Peter watched as Jay moved stealthily toward the estate's eastern wall. Despite his size, the Guardian could be remarkably subtle when needed. They'd chosen this approach based on the surveillance—supposedly, it was a blind spot in the estate's security cameras' coverage.

"There are more patrols than usual," Alfie murmured through the comm. "I count six visible guards. The pattern suggests at least four more we can't see."

That was double the previous observations obtained through drone surveillance, and Peter's instincts flashed a warning.

"They have guests," Theo's voice came through. "Three vehicles parked behind the garage. High-end. Recently arrived based on engine heat signatures, and given that there is an eight-car garage on the property, they are hosting many people."

Peter's jaw clenched. He'd hoped they'd have more time for reconnaissance, but it seemed like they were going in.

"Thermal imaging in place," Jay reported. "Activating now."

Peter tapped his comm. "Lyall, what are you picking up?"

There was a long pause, and then Lyall's voice came through, tight with controlled rage. "Audio confirms the presence of children. Multiple voices. They need help."

"What's going on?" Peter demanded.

"They're begging someone to stop," Lyall said flatly. "Crying. Enhanced audio is picking up at least three distinct young voices. I don't know if they are boys or girls. Not that it matters."

"Thermal imaging coming through now," Theo reported. "I'm patching it to you."

Peter activated his tablet, studying the heat signatures. The basement level showed multiple bodies—three small forms with their arms clearly raised above their heads, suggesting restraints. Adult signatures moved between rooms.

"More activity than expected," Alfie said. "They're getting bolder."

Peter weighed his options. Their original plan called for extended surveillance, building a complete picture of security rotations and access points before attempting a rescue, which was the safe way to go. But with confirmed victims in immediate danger, he couldn't wait.

"All teams, maintain position," he ordered. "Lyall, keep me updated on anything you can pick up. Numbers, locations, and any names used. Team One, get me a count on visible security and probable positions of the others."

They didn't have enough information, but they had the advantage of surprise and, as a last resort, a powerful compeller.

A child's scream cut through his thoughts, picked up by the enhanced audio and relayed through their comms. The sound hit him like a physical blow, and he heard several sharp intakes of breath from his team.

"Commander..." Alfie's voice held a dangerous edge.

"I know." Peter forced himself to think tactically despite the rage burning in his chest. "Status report. All positions. "

The reports came in rapidly. Ten confirmed security personnel. Three guests in the main house. Two more were arriving in a new vehicle. Surveillance showed systematic rotation patterns—professional security, not thugs with guns.

Below it all, through the enhanced audio, were the sounds of children suffering.

Peter hadn't felt this kind of fury since his first mission of rescuing the victims of trafficking. He wanted to storm the estate and tear every adult apart with his bare fangs. But just as he couldn't have done it then, he couldn't do it now. The success of the operation depended on him keeping a cool head.

He had to emotionally detach.

"New vehicle approaching the gate," Theo reported. "High-end sedan. Two occupants."

More guests were arriving. More monsters were coming to hurt children.

Peter tapped his comm. "All teams, prepare for immediate action. We're shifting to extraction protocol."

A chorus of acknowledgments came through. They'd all heard enough, and even though this operation might cost them crucial information they needed to get to the head of the snake, they had no choice.

"Teams One and Two, prepare for a simultaneous breach. Backup teams, move into positions." Remembering Onegus's directive about collecting vermin to bring to the keep, Peter took a deep breath. "As much as I want to kill everyone in there, we need some alive for questioning."

The fate of their broader mission to destroy these networks would have to take second place to saving the children currently suffering inside that house, and Peter knew it would cost them, but some lines couldn't be crossed.

Some crimes couldn't be observed and documented for later action.

Sometimes, you had to be the shield that stood between innocents and monsters, whatever the cost.

"All teams," he said. "Prepare to move on my mark."