Callahan
"Any chance we can get eyes on the estate? Gauge what we're walking into?" I ask Diamente as we drive toward the location in Eindhoven. I watch the dark sky, the raindrops only a nuisance on the windshield now. Clouds are rolling angrily in the distance, illuminated by still-silent flashes of light.
Dante is coordinating more manpower and Antonio is sitting beside me staring out the window, hands fisted.
"We can't get closer than the public road leading up to the house. They've got their own drones," Diamente says.
"Of course, they do."
I have him on speaker phone but I'm not sure Antonio's listening.
"From what I've learned about past auctions, they issue, at most, two dozen invitations. In most cases, the buyer himself doesn't attend. They send someone in their place. None
