Justin braced himself against a rock in the copse of trees where the team had been earlier. He'd made sure there was no tripping hazard and waited for Jacob to give him the all clear. The guards on top of the wall weren't exactly precise with the time of their patrolling, and it was making it difficult to judge when both would be facing away from the far corner of the wall.

"Go now." Jacob's voice triggered all his pent-up energy. He flew towards the bank and launched himself toward the rock in the middle. His forward momentum landed him on the far side of the outcropping. He hit the rock on the ball of his foot and sprang forward, landing on the dead log. The ground was flat in front of him, so he drove his weight forward and down, onto his hands, where he executed a front flip into a cartwheel and then a forward roll into the shadows of the wall. He pushed his back against the wall and regrouped. Jacob would never let him live that down. He'd added tumbling to his workout routine about ten years ago. It was an extremely effective tactic to keep your forward momentum going while traveling a wide distance quickly.

"Shit son, that was fucking impressive." Jacob's voice in his ear freaked him out for a moment. He made his way down the shadowed recesses of the fortress wall and to the chimney-shaped jig. He switched his backpack around and put his arms through it, so it hugged his chest. Bracing his back against the sandstone, he lifted his legs until he was suspended between the two walls. He slid his arms down and pressed back lifting his back away and up about six inches. His feet followed. Arm press, back up, feet follow. The process repeated over and over until Justin was below the lip of the top of the wall. He was drenched in sweat, and his legs and arms were shaking. He braced himself and waited for Jacob to send the all clear.

"Standby."

Justin got ready to move.

"Now. Go right. The guards are talking to your left."

He flung his left arm over the top of the wall and pulled himself over, dropping to the walkway the guards used. He crouched low and ran across the rampart to a stairway. Justin ghosted down the stairs until he reached the first landing. He pushed into the shadows and observed the inside of the compound. There were old military vehicles and battered pickup trucks. A doorway on the right was open and light spilled into the courtyard. Justin descended the stairs and found the deep shadows behind the trucks. He listened for any indication of a generator. The silence in between the bursts of laughter told him the electric was underground. That meant the panel would be...he reoriented himself. That way. He pushed off and made his way to where he would put the exterior alarm panel. The weeds behind the building came up past his knees. He moved slowly, not sure what lay underneath. He used his hand to trace the back of the building. A water pipe. That was a good sign, it meant utilities. But there was no alarm panel or electrical box. The same for his secondary selection. He glanced at his watch. He needed to find that fucking panel. He made his way to the main structure, which was more or less a mini-mansion.

There were no bursts of laughter from the guards this far inside the compound. A soft hue of gold flowed from the windows. He crossed the lawn activating a floodlight on the back of the house. He sprinted across the lawn and slid into a rose bush. The razor-sharp thorns tore at his arms, the thin material of his shirt caught and ripped as did the skin under it. His gloved hand snapped away the branches that dug into his arm. He planted his back against the darkest corner of the exposed wall. Holding still and trying to remain as quiet as possible Justin turned his head to examine the eaves of the house. The floodlights illuminated everything. There were no exposed camera ports. He lowered his gaze and continued the examination of the exterior of the structure. Nothing. The floodlights went dark causing him to close his eyes tightly to try to regain his night vision.

Doubt crept into his mind. There was no indication of an alarm system, no state of the art alarms to trigger an armed response because of his move across the lawn. He heard and saw nothing. No guards other than those posted above and the ones in the small outbuilding. He lifted carefully keeping tucked tight to the wall expecting the lights to cascade the yard in illumination again. Nothing happened. He glanced up at the floodlights. The sensor must be facing outward only, nothing below it. He glanced at the window beside him. There was a soft golden hue, but indistinct, as if an interior light was casting through a darkened room. He stepped over the majority of the rosebush and dealt with the jabs and tears of the branches he couldn't avoid while maneuvering himself up to the window.

As he'd anticipated the room was dark, but the light from the hall partially illuminated the interior. He examined the double hung window carefully while still keeping his situational awareness on high alert. There were no wires or balanced magnetic switches that he could see. That could be good, or very bad. If the sash had been drilled and the wires were run through the casing, he wouldn't be able to see them. He glanced at his watch. He had little time to find and deactivate the alarm system before the timeline Greenfield had initiated with the terrorists passed. He closed his eyes briefly and pulled in several breaths while he ran everything through his mind again. He had to go with his gut. There was no alarm system for the house itself, but there could be one in the area where they were holding Danielle. He weighed the magnitude of his decision. If he set off an alarm now, he and Danielle were dead. If what his gut was telling him was true and there was no alarm, he could get in, deactivate any alarm system to the basement area and get Danielle out without putting Jacob and his team at risk.

He glanced at his watch again. There were only minutes until the deadline passed. The decision made, he pulled out his knife and inserted it between the sashes. He quickly applied a sturdy pressure and the lock released. He pocketed the knife and zipped the pouch closed before he pushed the bottom sash up a fraction of an inch. Nothing. A fraction further. Still nothing. He lifted it two inches and waited thirty seconds. A minute. Nothing. Justin lifted the sash and slipped in. Landing lightly, he visually searched all corners of the room looking for motion detectors. Nothing.

He made his way across the room and studied the dead-end hallway from the open doorway. The doors that lined the hall were open, with only one room being lit from the inside. Justin slid down the door casement and closed his eyes, listening for any sounds. The soft tapping of a keyboard and the low sounds of music emanated from the same lighted area. He stood again, and slipped out of the room, and moved down the hallway where he held at the end. A quick glance back to the lighted space ensured he'd made it without alerting anyone. The continued light tap of keys played like a back note as he studied the flow of the house that he could see. The front foyer and formal living area were to his left. That meant the kitchen would most likely be to the right. He peeked around the corner making sure there was no one in that area before he rounded the corner and headed toward where he hoped the stairs to the basement would be.

A door closed and he ducked into the kitchen. A male voice called out, and the person, a man, in the office responded in one of the few languages Justin didn't know. Naturally. He heard solid, heavy steps coming towards him and then turn off down the hall. He took the opportunity to open the first door in the kitchen. A pantry. The second was a broom closet. The third went into a hallway and towards a formal dining room if the chandelier he could see was any indication. He squatted down. There had to be a stairway. His eyes caught on the braided oval rug just to the right of the island. Fuck...maybe? He moved over and pulled the rug toward the island. There it was. A trap door in the floor. He searched the sides of the door. No wires. There were two deadbolt locks. Child's play.

He pulled out his picks. He worked on the lock while debating his next step. If he signaled he was in and the alarms were neutralized, he sentenced four men on top of those walls to death. If he got downstairs and was trapped? He and Danielle were dead. The locks opened with only the small sounds of tumblers turning. He put his picks away and took out the transmitter. He might be a selfish bastard, but Danielle was a victim of these men and their desire for a horrible weapon. He flipped the lid open, pushed the transmit button and, out of habit, pocketed the device. Nothing would remain to indicate he'd been here.

He lifted the rug back over the door and prayed it would lay flat after he went down the steps. Holding the rug to the door, he gripped the door handle and lifted. A low creak and a groan of a spring reverberated through the kitchen. It was probably much louder in Justin's brain, but he froze, waiting to hear if the noise had drawn attention. After several seconds, he pushed it open far enough to start down the steps, bringing the door down after him—slowly and carefully.

Total darkness entombed him. He unzipped a pouch and produced a small LED light. He flipped the switch and attached the light to a patch of Velcro on his vest. A large pantry area and wine cellar were immediately visible. He cautiously stepped down the ladder-like stairs and took the light off his vest to shine it against the walls. There were two doors. The first one was unlocked and led to a storage room. The second was locked. The light was slapped onto the Velcro, and the lock was picked with proficiency. He examined the door to make sure there were no alarms and then pulled it open. A short hallway led to one door. Justin moved quickly. There was no key lock on the door only a thumb-driven deadbolt. He popped the lock and pushed the door open, slowly.

"Danielle?"

"Justin?"

"Don't move. They have a camera on you."

A small sob punctuated the silence. "I'm so scared."

"I know you are. I need you to be brave for me. I know you're strong enough to do it. I've seen you rappel off buildings and down a gigantic dam. You are training to climb Everest with me. You've got this. Now I need you to get up and walk over to this side of the room." He saw a plastic pail he hadn't seen on the video feed he'd watched at Guardian Headquarters.

"What if they find you?"

"We are dead, Dani, so you need to do exactly as I say. Come on now, babe. Get up and walk over here towards my voice." He could just make out her movements in the dark. He heard her shuffling to stand and then the small pads of her bare feet. The door was still opened only a crack. "Careful now. Find the wall and use your hands to guide you. Move to my voice. I want you right up next to the door before I open it farther. If I open the door too wide, it will be seen in the video feed." He heard her getting closer before he felt her against the door. "Okay, move away from the door about a foot so I can swing it in. I'm going to ask you to be as tiny and thin as you can be, so the door doesn't go into the feed. The infrared will pick it up. That's how they see you in the dark. It is going to be a tight fit through the space, but you can do it." he pushed the door open slightly and then braced it with his foot and pulled the door handle back towards himself, keeping pressure on it so it wouldn't swing open if either of them hit it. He extended his hand to her. "Take my hand, babe."