Page 80 of Justice for Francesca

Cruz shared a look with Frankie. “Who’s who out there?”

Squinting at the screens, she determined who was who of the triplets. “Rory and Fionn are coming from the back. I don’t see Mannix. My father is the one coming from the front,” she replied. “And he’s more deadly than the other three combined. Be careful, Cruz. He’ll shoot first and ask no questions. He has no moral compass, and he definitely has no compassion or empathy.”

Francesca turned and went into the bedroom to find Tripoli in his walk-in closet, opening his safe. “Ethan?”

He pulled out his gun, loaded the magazine into it, checked the safety, and put one in the chamber. “Can’t protect you without a weapon, Francesca.”

“You don’t need to be involved in this.”

He crossed to her. “Yes, I do. I was asked to protect you for a reason.”

“You were a medic. I mean, obviously, you can use a gun, but?—”

“But nothing, Francesca. There’s a reason this medic was with the Raiders. C’mon.”

They jogged out to the living room only to find Cruz in front of the security panel that Tripoli had opened. “Where are your guys, Tripoli?”

“Cosmos and Triumph will be inside. Cameras are on and recording both sound and visual. Cosmos’ crew is across the street with his sniper on the roof. Hubble has a no-miss record. They’ll watch and follow them in, but unless gunfire starts on the McCabe side or I give them the distress code, they will not engage.”

“Understood.” Cruz looked at Francesca. “Crash course in the family. What can we expect?”

“They’re hunters.”

She watched Tripoli look back at the security camera footage and process that information. “So your brothers flush out their prey toward your father, who makes the kill.”

“Exactly. And they’re wicked smart. Be prepared for them to fake you out. No matter how many contingency plans you have, they’ll have at least five more.”

“Good thing the Raiders always had ten more.”

“He’s got jokes,” she muttered. “I’m telling you, nobody hunts like they do.”

The elevator dinged. All three of them looked at the screen with surprise. Her father was heading straight for them. The McCabe brothers had split up and either had already entered the building or were about to from separate exits.

Suddenly, the lights went out, and all the electronics in the building died.

“That was fast. The generator will kick in shortly,” Tripoli advised them.

The lights flickered back on, and the hum of the refrigerator and the ambient noise of the lighting returned for about fifteen seconds, and then everything went black again, including the security screens. The elevator showed it was holding on floor three.

“I take it they got to the generator,” Cruz said.

“It would appear so.”

“Mickie?”

“She’s going to be stuck until we can get the power back up,” Tripoli admitted. “She can’t get out, but no one can get in either. Don’t worry. She’ll have plenty of air. I made sure it had hidden ventilation, just in case.”

“That backfired on them. Dear old dad is stuck in the elevator.”

“Doubtful,” Francesca told him. “Red herring. He probably exited through the topside panels as soon as he got into that elevator.”

All three took the safety off their weapons.

“How long do you think we have before he makes a move?” Tripoli asked.

“They’re incredibly patient, so your guess is as good as mine.” Francesca gave them the details on her brothers. “Rory’s a climber. He’ll likely come at us from above, and he loves his knives. Gut you like a fish if he has an opportunity, but much slower. He enjoys watching people suffer. Mannix is the best at hand-to-hand fighting. Sneaky as shit. A human blunt instrument. If he shows up, whatever you do, stay out of range of his fists and feet. Fionn is the best shot, but he will not hesitate to shoot you in the back. Watch behind you at all costs.”

“Your father?”

---