Play Dirty (Wages of Sin #2) - Neve Wilder Page 0,50
twenty-four hours to set up.”
“I have three minutes, max.”
“Fuck you, Madigan.”
Madigan bit down on the tip of his tongue to keep from making the sharp retort he wanted to. Angling away from Az, he cupped his hand over the phone’s speaker and said, “C’mon. I’m in a tight spot.”
Silence stretched, and then Cas blew out a rumbly sigh. “Alright. Where are you, do you know?”
“Boston Harbor. It’s one of Bennington’s outfits. He’s a name in the deadpool. I can give you some landmarks but not many. I’m currently sitting between the wall of a warehouse and a shipping container.”
“I know that location. Found it in my research. But it’ll take me longer than three minutes to get eyes on it,” Cas huffed. “More like ten, and it’s the best I can do, so sit tight or come up with another plan. I’ll call this number back.”
“Fuck,” Madigan swore and ended the call.
“How long?” Az kept scanning their surroundings, looking for signs of Bennington’s men, no doubt.
“Ten minutes.”
Az shook his head. “Won’t work.”
“I fucking know that,” Madigan growled. “It’s the best I can do.”
They both looked up when a shout sounded from nearby. Az peered around the shipping container then pulled back quickly. “Four men heading inside the warehouse. We need more distance between us and it.”
Madigan glanced down the center between the two containers at the stretch of asphalt in front of them. Thirty yards away was another row of shipping containers. “It’s wide fucking open, though.”
“Got a better idea?”
“Nope.” Madigan slid sideways down the narrow opening, gun close to his chest and at the ready.
Az pressed to his back, his voice low and way too fucking close to Madigan, making him bristle when he spoke. “I’ll cover you.”
“Right.” Madigan chuckled. “Thanks, I’ll take my chances.”
“You’re still alive, aren’t you?”
“Debatable.” Madigan held up his hand, and they both went quiet, listening. No alarms, no mass scuffle of feet, no more shouts.
Taking another deep breath, Madigan did a quick left-right glance and then strolled from between the containers, keeping his gun low and his gait slow, so as not to draw attention.
As he walked, he mapped what he could see of the yard. The guys walking the perimeter were definitely guards, despite the lumberjack chic jeans and plaids. There was another fence separating their part of the shipyard from the rest, creating a private port within the main harbor. As Madigan neared the row of containers, a military-style truck arrived. The driver spoke with a guard, and the fence began to roll back.
Madigan slipped between two containers, holding up a hand to stay Azrael while the truck crept through the checkpoint, then gestured for him to come on.
He kept an eye on the truck as it stopped in front of the warehouse they’d been inside. Six guys in fatigues hopped out, and one approached the airplane-hanger style doors, keying something in to make the doors shudder open with a noisy screech of metal. Once again, the lack of urgency puzzled Madigan.
Az took the same tactic Madigan had, walking casually from between the containers and crossing the pavement. He made it halfway across before a call rang out, demanding he identify himself.
Az broke into a run instead while Madigan crept around the corner, found the guy, and dropped him before he could get in a shot at Az. The trade-off was that the gunfire blew their chances for a quiet escape.
Az didn’t slow when he made it to the other side, and Madigan broke into a run to catch up. They zigged and zagged through the compartments until Az stopped short, causing Madigan to nearly run into his back.
“Still no clue where we’re going, right?”
“Nope.”
Madigan rested back against the side of a container, catching his breath. “Have you noticed there are no alarms going off, no sense of emergency that who -the-fuck-knows-how-many people inside that warehouse are passed out? Is it possible your concoction didn’t work?”
Az snorted. “If it hadn’t, we wouldn’t have made it out.”
Madigan supposed the cocky fucker was correct. He swiped a bead of sweat from his forehead. “So, what’s the other option? Something along the lines of…they’re confident enough in the security of this place that they don’t need to raise an alarm?”
“That’d be my guess. They don’t want to draw attention from the main shipping yard.”
“Shit.”
“Ideas?”
“See if we can find any unprotected perimeter and try to get through it as fast as we can.”
Madigan thumbed toward Az’s bag. “Any heavy-duty wire cutters in there?”
“Nope.”
Madigan exhaled a grateful