Page 16 of Play Dirty
Az chuckled. “Are you? I hadn’t noticed.”
“Mm-hmm.” Madigan stepped away and picked up a plate of kebabs. “We grilling these or what?”
* * *
Sunlight pouredthrough the windows of the villa where Madi sat hunkered over his laptop. From outside came the occasional splash as Azrael kicked off the edge of the pool while swimming laps. Madigan adjusted the screen, trying to concentrate as he stared at the shipping logs Red had sent him. Next to him was an untouched glass of orange juice, freshly squeezed. Madigan considered it as he rubbed the back of his neck.
The sunlight had woken him at the asscrack of dawn. That and the twinge in his neck from sleeping on the couch. He’d refused to sleep in the bed with Azrael because he didn’t trust Az not to mess with him and he didn’t want to deal with the temptation. He’d slept like shit, though, and had pulled a pillow over his head when Az came down the stairs into the kitchen and started rattling around. Az was surprisingly domestic for such a vicious man, but Madigan supposed that, given his love for chemicals, concocting shit in the kitchen was kind of a distant cousin to mixing poisons. Madi had finally given up trying to sleep and had walked into the kitchen once he heard Az leave, only to find the fresh juice, cut up fruit, and some sort of bread set out.
Madigan scrolled down the shipping log, then picked up the juice and sniffed it as Az wandered in from the pool, dark hair gleaming and slicked back, a towel cinched around his waist. Madigan’s mouth fucking watered at the sight. What would it be like to wake up to that every day? He grimaced at the strange thought as Az swiped the juice from his hand and took a sip, cocking an amused brow at him.
“It’s fine, see. Not poisoned. Drink it.”
Madigan rolled his eyes. “That wasn’t what I was thinking.” It was, despite the fact that it made not a damn bit of sense for Az to poison him now. He snatched the juice from Az, took a few swallows and angled the screen as Az dropped on the couch beside him. Too close, too wet, too early in the morning. Madigan scooted an inch over and flicked a finger toward the screen. “DiMarco’s shipping logs. Tell me what you see.”
Annoyingly, Az closed the distance between them as he leaned forward, brows furrowing as he scrolled slowly through the logs. The wet ends of his hair dripped steadily on the top of Madigan’s thigh. “I see…what looks like an uptick in shipments beginning a year ago. Most from the US.”
“Right.” The furrow in Azrael’s brow became a trench as Madigan continued. “He’s never been known for trafficking. Beneficiary of it, sure, according to Red. But, also according to Red, Pritka and Diamantis were both the supplier and handled shipping through several networks—none of which were any of DiMarco’s outfits.”
“Are you thinking DiMarco was going behind Pritka’s back somehow?”
Madigan shrugged. “Not sure. All I have right now is an uptick in shipments and a few warehouse purchases in”—he took control of the mouse, clicking over to another screen—“Rio, Naples, Prague, and Cape Town.”
“That could be for anything. Someone expanding their arms business, certainly.”
“Could be.” Madi shrugged. “But maybe not, considering what we saw yesterday. We could check out that warehouse here, see what’s in there. If it’s just product, we proceed as planned and take DiMarco and Bennington out at the meeting location, which…we still need to figure out.”
“I’ve got someone working on that.” Az stretched out on the couch, lacing his fingers behind his head. He plunked his feet onto Madigan’s lap, and Madi shrugged them off immediately. A small smile hooked the corner of Az’s mouth but faded quickly. “If the ‘product’ in the warehouse is of the human variety, what then, hmm? That’s above the paygrade and well beyond the call of duty. We’d be potentially interfering with a global network.” Madigan sucked his teeth, considering, as Az nudged him with the side of his foot. “I think, Madigan, that you’ve got a little shred of humanity left in you and you don’t enjoy it one bit.” Rolling upright, Az pressed in close, dancing his fingers up the back of Madigan’s spine and sparking every nerve ending to life as his lips hovered near Madi’s ear. “I enjoy discovering these small, soft parts of you almost as much as I’ve enjoyed the hard parts.”
Warmth pooled in Madigan’s gut even as he stood, shaking free of Az’s touch. “We’ll check out the warehouse first, and then we can talk about interfering with global networks. And, for fuck’s sake, 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.Ifthey 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.