Which made her think of Guy Bodie and his team of social misfits. If ever there was a perfect job for a certain group of rebels, tracking down such an intriguing and mysterious treasure was it.
“Where are the relic hunters?”
“Right now? They’re chasing down that old boss of Bodie’s somewhere in Florida.”
Heidi had known that. She was thinking rapidly while Scottie spoke. “Call them. Tell them the job has changed.”
“They won’t like that, boss.”
“Look at me.” Heidi stood, her face looking more lived-in than usual and her naturally curly hair listing badly to the east. Her scarred hands and holstered gun spoke of intense fieldwork. Her tired eyes spoke of incredible responsibility. “Do I look like their travel agent to you?”
“Umm, no.”
“What do I look like?”
“Their… boss.”
“You got it, Scottie. So, what are you gonna do?”
The younger man reached for the phone. “I’ll call them right away.”
Heidi put out a hand to stop him. The human contact made him flinch just a little. She didn’t move her hand, but held on to his wrist.
“You know the significance of all this, don’t you?”
Scottie couldn’t help but grin. “Sure, I do.”
“The only way those two groups of statues could reasonably have made it two continents apart and four thousand miles across an ocean over ten thousand years ago is if there was no ocean.”
“And no split continents,” Scottie said.
“Just one body of land,” Heidi said.
Scottie took a deep breath. “Atlantis.”
CHAPTER THREE
Guy Bodie was in charge of the infiltration of Pantera’s property. With the assistance of Cassidy and Jemma, he sneaked in under cover of darkness. Jemma in particular seemed to delight in returning to the field, possibly reliving her former career as a cat burglar.
Bodie had reminded them constantly that while the job wasn’t big and it wasn’t dangerous, they should treat everything as if it were life or death. The risk was that they missed noticing something they didn’t know was there — especially where Jack Pantera was concerned.
This worried him the most.
But Bodie had known Cross the longest of his team, and trusted him the most. If the forty-three-year-old insisted Bodie could make it to Pantera’s domain and back with absolutely no issues, then the matter was closed. Cross was the closest Bodie had ever come to an ally as capable as Pantera, and as good a friend. Following Pantera’s betrayal, Cross had taken on that role.
Bodie had hooked up a series of covert cameras, gaining them a 360-degree view of Pantera’s house. The cameras themselves were high-tech, enabled with seamless zoom and motion detectors. Small and thin, they were practically unnoticeable, hidden as they were among the leaves and branches of trees and bushes. Bodie had even checked the gardener’s schedule and learned he wouldn’t be around for another three days.
“Let’s review what we know,” he said. The team was lounging on the furniture in the terrace bar at a large hotel. White canvas shutters rolled across the timbered roof to keep the direct sun at bay, and a heart-shaped pool glistened to their left. The area was quiet at this time of day; most of the hotel’s occupants were cruising one of the nearby theme parks or filling up at a restaurant.
“Two days of watching have given us more than a few headaches,” Jemma said.
“Explain.” Bodie stretched out on the rattan sofa. Cassidy had ordered mocktails all around, and now brought them on a tray with a little curtsy.
“Found your calling,” Gunn said, smirking.
“You have a problem with waitresses?” Cassidy growled.
“Umm, no. Not at all. I was just—”
“Then shut your smart mouth.”
Jemma took a quick drink and then continued explaining her plan. “Pantera is in the house, as you know.” Bodie had identified the man for his own peace of mind during the initial hour of surveillance. “I have half a dozen signals coming out. Nothing unusual. House alarm, Wi-Fi, broadband, etcetera. Nothing suspicious, which, knowing Pantera, is suspicious in itself. Bodie knows the man best and he helped with snooping out any would-be surprises. But…” Jemma spread her arms. “We can’t find any.”
Gunn took over. “I hacked his system. Took a look at his computer. The man has solid firewalls, great protocols. As Jemma says, it all seems above board, which makes me very skeptical.”
“We’re thieves,” Bodie said with a chuckle. “What would you expect?”
They laughed and drank. A small fountain sprayed arcs of water into the pool. A happy-looking couple walked slowly by.
“Anything good?” Cassidy asked.
“That is the good,” Gunn said. “Weren’t you listening? Of course, there is some bad news too.”
“Naturally.” Cassidy waved at him. “Spit it out.”
“It appears that somebody else is watching Mr. Pantera.”
The team went silent, eyes on Bodie. It was his decision as to how to proceed. Some jobs would be aborted, others wildly transformed, dissected. This one had roots that were beyond fragile, though.
“Methods? Routines?” Cross asked eventually.
“They’re decent, but they never saw you, Eli. Barely any movement at all. If I were put on the spot I’d say it’s a long-term watch. Complacent. They even have a house.”
Bodie pondered this. “That makes it even more intriguing,” he said. “Does Jack know? How long have they been observing him, and what for? Who else knows? To plant an extended watch in a gated community speaks of power.”
“CIA?” Cassidy suggested.
Bodie stared at her. “Nah, that’d be too messed up. The CIA watching Jack after rescuing me, the man he got sent to prison. The same CIA we now work for.”
“Pantera has made no effort to hide anything,” Gunn said. “He’s alone. Hasn’t been outside the property’s boundary in two days. Never looks directly at the long-term watch or at our cameras. How observant is he, Guy?”
“Jack is the best.” Bodie shrugged. “Or used to be. The guy taught me how to read body language, how to properly assess a target, how to lift and return a guard’s ID card without him even knowing it was gone. Every skill I have came from Jack. He treated me… like a son. Shit, how is his behavior? Anything suspicious or out of the ordinary?”
“Seems fine. Coordination is all there. Drinks a lot; I see evidence of wine and beer bottles on the kitchen shelves as well as in the recycling. Buys local and at supermarket prices, judging by the contents of his trash, which suggests he’s not hiding any golden nuggets under the bed. There’s a two-year-old Dodge in the garage, plates registered in his name. Everything else”—Gunn shrugged—“is textbook. Mundane. Pantera is living like a model citizen right here in the heart of the Sunshine State. I’d expect to see him skipping out of that house chomping down on a juicy orange next.”
Cassidy swatted him across the head. “Idiot. Stop typecasting everyone.”
Gunn sighed deeply. “Is there anything you feel that I do do right, Cass?”
“I’m sure there is, but it’s gonna take some thinking. What do you say, Jemma?”
Caught off guard, Jemma’s usually quick mind couldn’t construct a fitting comeback to that one and look at the plan. “Leave it with me,” she said. “Now, Jack Pantera — the man. We need to understand how to anticipate his reactions. I’ll let Guy brief you.”
Bodie went instantly from repose to sitting on the edge of his seat. If I still didn’t care for the man, it would be easy.
“A quiet, keen observer, Jack is reserved, intelligent, and shrewd. He would always steal the old way, but with state-of-the-art tools. I’d say from being the solid numero uno he’s dropped down the charts these past three years. The man lost interest. He will undoubtedly have lost sharpness too.”