Play Dirty (Wages of Sin #2) - Neve Wilder Page 0,25
try to keep your hands to yourself for five minutes.”
7
Azrael
Recon on the warehouse proved more difficult than anticipated. The building was a solid block of concrete with blacked out six-inch windows around the top. Satellite images showed two small glass panels on the roof, but getting to them required scaling a ten-foot fence topped with razor wire, passing six armed guards, and dodging cameras on the corners of the building, each sweeping in one minute increments.
Az and Madigan stood in a darkened lot just outside the fence, both dressed head to toe in black, coms in their ears so they could communicate once they separated. If they separated. Az was starting to think that wasn’t going to happen. Madi refused to allow Az, the most logical choice, to scale the metal ladder at the back of the building for reasons Az still couldn’t discern.
“You’re being unreasonable,” Az said for the fifth time, fidgeting with the knife on his belt.
Madi glowered at Az in the dim light of a moonless night. “I’m faster than you. I have more experience in hand-to-hand combat. I can get there and back in minutes.”
Az took a deep cleansing breath, trying to remind himself that this was what came from Madi not controlling everything. He was arguing just for the sake of it, though he’d never admit it. Madi’s self-imposed celibacy was clearly making him cranky and disagreeable. Even more so than usual. Az didn’t think telling him that would help his cause, though, and any offers to help alleviate his horniness had been rebuffed, so Az, once more, tried reasoning with him. “You have never seen me handle a knife, and I’m far more agile. I’m also less likely to be picked up by the camera. You’re…broader than me.”
“You calling me fat?” Madi asked, the slightest bit of humor slipping into his voice.
Az raked his gaze over Madigan in a way that seemed to make the other man squirm. “No, motek. There’s not an ounce of fat on you.” Madi sighed, and Az glimpsed the chink in his armor. “If things go badly, you can take somebody out with your gun from here quickly and quietly. I can’t poison somebody from this distance. I need you out here, watching my back. You know I’m right.”
Madi’s shoulders sagged. “Fine, but if you get captured, I’m leaving your ass and meeting your contact without you.”
Az smiled. “If I get caught, you’ll come rescue me or you’ll never get a word from my contact.”
Madi grunted, already cutting the fence with bolt cutters. They had to wait another twenty minutes for the guards to pass and for the cameras to start their sweep in the other direction. Az slipped through the opening in the fence and bolted for the ladder, scaling the four story building swiftly and landing on the roof behind a two-foot high concrete barrier.
“Showoff,” Madi muttered in Az’s ear.
Az laughed softly, staying low as he scanned the roof for any signs of movement. It was quiet. He crept towards the first small square of glass on the ceiling. He didn’t know what its purpose could be since it was too small to let any light into the structure. Az laid down beside the glass, pulling his phone free and ensuring the flash was off, wiping the glass with the sleeve of his shirt, before placing the phone camera side down.
“What do you see?” Madi asked, voice a low rasp in Az’s ear.
Az peered into the brightly lit warehouse, letting his eyes adjust. Below sat a group of men at a small table, deeply entrenched in their card game. “Five men playing cards at a table.” Az’s gaze swept right. “More cargo containers. Four of them. I can’t see what’s in them. I’m going to see if I can get a better look from the window on the other side.”
“Be careful,” Madi snapped.
“I’m always careful,” Az replied, earning a snort from Madi.
Az snapped photos before slowly making his way to the other window. He wiped grime from the glass and placed his phone camera side down, grateful for the ample lighting inside. Three of the containers were shut tight, but the fourth one was open and a man with an AR-15 was pulling girls out two at a time and taking them to the back of the warehouse. They were shackled together at the wrists and ankles, forcing them to walk in tandem or trip, like some kind of demented potato sack race.