97
Peter
“Why are your f*****g guards so slow?” I bark at Esguerra as he furiously types on his laptop—presumably issuing orders to said guards. “It’s already been two minutes. Do you know what can happen in two minutes? They’re in that house, alone, unprotected—”
“I know!” Esguerra roars. A vein pulses in his forehead as he slams the laptop shut and jerks to his feet. “You don’t think I f*****g know? They’re on their way, driving as fast as they can. The two guards on house patrol aren’t responding; whoever’s messing with the cameras and the cell signal must’ve already offed them.”
Fuck. I want to slam my fist into the wall, but it’s too dangerous with all the controls in the pilot’s cabin. “Are you sure they’re still in the house?”
“I know Nora is,” Esguerra snaps. “I have tracking
