22 CUT THE LINES
Large, dark figures moved feverishly around outside Marney’s house. Flashlights darted from place to place while other men from the trucks scoured the perimeter.
“Don’t go inside just yet,” the walkie-talkies on their vest quietly crackled. “If we have to, we’ll go in later,” commanded the lone man in one of the trucks.
His walkie-talkie crackled back a few moments later, “Back of the house is clear, sir. No sign of movement here.”
“No sign of movement confirmed. Cut the phone and power lines, then to the barn.”