Play Dirty (Wages of Sin #2) - Neve Wilder Page 0,32
if the hallway between the private room and the main dining area where Az planned to intercept Bennington proved to be a major blindspot. They’d known that going in, and the chaos of the restaurant’s occupants, once they heard gunfire, would actually be beneficial in providing Az cover if necessary.
“Anything out front?” Az asked through the com.
“Nope. Quiet. DiMarco’s car is at the back of the restaurant. He hasn’t gotten out yet, though. Bennington’s only two minutes late.” Madi focused his scope on the car again. “I can’t check anymore. The door’s opening.” In a perfect world, Bennington’s arrival would’ve preceded DiMarco exiting his car by just enough time that Madi could snipe him before he even entered the restaurant while Az was taking care of Bennington inside. Instead, he forced his trigger finger to relax when no word came from Az about Bennington and sighed as DiMarco entered the restaurant and greeted his men.
He lifted his head and stared at the front of the restaurant, then checked the back again. Five past now. Where the fuck was Bennington? Didn’t he know Madigan had been banking on having enough time for Az to fuck him back at the villa before they had to return the keys? He tried not to check his watch as the minutes slipped by. Inside the restaurant, DiMarco’s men milled around him.
A glint off the car idling at the back of the restaurant caught Madigan’s eye, and a prickle of awareness lifted the hairs on the back of his neck as an icy finger of premonition dragged down his spine. The last time Madigan’s gut had talked to him like that, it was seconds before a rough hand had closed around his throat and choked him into unconsciousness.
He pushed back the sensation. “Something’s off,” Madigan spoke into the comm as he watched the driver enter the building and speak with DiMarco.
“Don’t jump the gun,” Az said calmly. “Tell me what you see.”
“Fuck.” Madigan watched through the scope as DiMarco glanced around, then nodded. Several of his men started toward the exit that led from the private area to the main dining room. A few other men clustered around DiMarco, and they headed toward the back exit. “Movement in your direction. Five men. Shit, they know something. Get out.” He spoke rapidly as he kept his gaze steady on the back door. “I’ve got to take the shot now or I’ll lose my chance. Leave out the front. Now.”
If Az spoke again, Madigan didn’t hear it. All his focus was on the door opening, blocking a clear shot to DiMarco as his men escorted him into the back of the car.
The second the door shut, Madigan burst into action, dropping the two closest men. A third scrambled for the driver’s side door, ducking the rain of fire Madigan squeezed off to take out the front left tire before he popped upright, slung his gun onto his back, and leapt from the roof.
He crashed down onto the closed top of a dumpster, a burst of pain shooting through his knee as he vaulted to the pavement below. Gunfire erupted around him as Madigan hugged the brick corner of the restaurant, taking a deep breath before ducking low and swinging around the corner. There were three bodies on the pavement and movement inside the car. Madi swung his gun up and shot at the front seat as he strafed to the right and sank down low against the back left side of the car. The door was locked, of course, so Madigan shot at the windows. Bulletproof glass worked great as long as an armored car was moving.
Victory thumped through Madigan’s pulse as the windows finally shattered with the onslaught. Saying fuck it to precision, Madigan unloaded the rest of the extended magazine inside the car, checked that all was still, and reached in to swipe DiMarco’s watch from the bloody mess, while he pulled a new magazine from his belt with the other hand.
He stuffed the watch in his pocket and jammed the fresh magazine into his rifle.
From inside the restaurant came the sound of chaos. Voices yelling, gunfire, dishes breaking.
“Az.” Madigan touched his ear as he spoke. Nothing. No fucking earpiece. Had it been jarred loose when he’d jumped from the roof? No time to figure it out, though. He rushed toward the door, back bowing as something heavy thudded against his spine.
Pain scorched across his shoulder blade as arms wrapped around him from behind and something