Play Dirty (Wages of Sin #2) - Neve Wilder Page 0,76

Madi growled. “This ends now. He’ll have to take care of himself. Everyone keep an eye out for him. We’re going in anyway. We all on board with that?”

After a chorus of assents, Cas came over the comm again. “Breach in five, four, three, two, one.”

Az wrenched the door open, pulling the pin on the canister and tossing it inside before grabbing his weapon. The glass panels on the door shattered as the guards began firing in his direction. When the gunfire lulled, Az darted inside, glass crunching beneath his booted feet. He took out the two guards as they were trying to regain their eyesight and then sprinted down the basement stairs.

Bullets whizzed past his head from somewhere in the distance, and he had just enough time to dip into a small alcove, chunks of drywall spraying as bullets lodged into the wall beside him. When he stuck his head out to return fire, they were closing the office doors, likely barricading themselves inside. That was fine with Az. If they were inside, then so was Bennington.

“We need eyes on Bennington,” Az said.

“Yeah, on it.” After a minute, Cas’s voice returned, frantic. “Fuck! I lost everything. I can’t see you. I’m blind. It’s a fucking trap. I don’t know where you are. Fuck,” Cas cried. “I think I can get it back, but it’ll be a few. Shit. Jonah?”

“M’fine, baby,” Jonah said over the comm. “Just do your thing. We can handle this.”

Az had always appreciated Jonah’s extreme calm under pressure. He stuck his head out of the alcove to do another quick sweep. “Two guards are in the office, possibly with Bennington, but there’s a chance he could have already made a run for the panic room.”

“If this is a trap, he could already be in the panic room. Don’t forget Eastman is still in there somewhere,” Cas said.

“I’m heading for the panic room,” Az decided. “Sadie and Ronin have a better shot at clearing the office. If this is a set-up, we need to assume they can easily re-engage the locks, and we can’t lose Bennington again.”

22

Madigan

Madigan navigated through the west wing of the mansion, listening to the mix of chatter and gunfire coming over the comm, and reported his progress as he moved, pausing once to dart back around a corner when someone shouted and bullets whizzed past him. The tear gas offered some help, but the glass in the windows and sliding doors had been shot out almost immediately by Bennington’s men one they figured out what was happening.

He double-checked his gun, then whipped around the corner again and took out the guy after a brief trade of bullets that left his pulse pounding with adrenaline. After encountering one more guard near the central part of the house, he made his way toward the basement stairwell where the safe room and, presumably, Az were. Sadie and Ronin seemed to have the main floor covered.

“Eastman’s been shot,” Az said over the comm, and the relief that surged through Madigan at the sound of Az’s voice almost bowled him over. “I’m taking a look. No sign of Bennington down here. Panic room is empty. Sadie, any—ah, bhenchod. Cas, there were two entrances to the safe room on the blueprints, right?”

“Two, yes,” Cas confirmed.

“Well, I’m staring at three. If he’s gone through the one we didn’t know about, he could already be long gone. He’s had enough time.”

“Fuck,” Cas muttered. “Okay, hold on, and I’ll see if I can get more information.”

“I’m going to check the other exit. Madigan take the one on the left when you get down here.”

“Already on my way.” Seconds later, a fresh wave of gunfire had Madigan racing toward the stairwell at the far end of the hallway. When the crack of bullets stopped, so did Madigan. “Az,” he demanded, more forcefully this time.

“I’ve got a guy down,” Az said, and, for the second time in a handful of seconds, relief poured through Madigan as the other man continued, voice steady and measured as always. “Could be him. Third door is another long tunnel. No apparent exit. I’ll—”

Madigan flinched at the pop of bullets in close range and heard what sounded like a grunt before Bennington’s voice came over the comm. “Where’s your partner? Shall we get him down here? I’d love to include him in our chat.”

“Don’t—” Az was cut off, Madigan’s ear filling with the rustle of movement, then a finite crunch and silence, signaling Bennington had effectively cut their line