Page 5 of Play Dirty
The clock resumed its countdown on the screen while a shrill voice screamed, “Off with their heads!” on a loop.
Madigan stood, folding up the envelope crudely and stuffing it into the back pocket of jeans that molded to his hips and thighs like a second skin. It was the first time Azrael could remember seeing Madigan so…casual. Every time they’d met, they’d been playing a part, each of them still referring to the other by the names they’d given in the hotel bar two years ago.
“Leaving so soon?” Az asked, forcing a soft chuckle. “A deadpool too plebeian for your tastes?”
Madigan held the door open with his foot and flashed Azrael a sharp grin. “Au contraire,” he said in perfectly accented French. “I’ve got a plane to catch.” He ticked his chin toward the screen. “I think Robert Cortez is going to have a very unlucky night.”
Robert Cortez. Azrael found his name on the list, noting the half million bounty. He wasn’t even one of the highest on the list. Was Madigan attempting to mislead him? Perhaps pull a bait and switch, like last time? Goosebumps rose along his skin as he contemplated their last meeting. A rooftop pool in Madrid. As usual, they’d fought for control, but Az had let Madigan win. He’d missed the feeling of being pinned down and fucked. That time, there’d been an edge to it, Madigan’s words as sharp as the snap of his hips as he drove his thick cock into Az’s tight hole, whispering all kinds of filthy things as he fucked him like he hated him.
Az had woken with finger shaped bruises on his hips and throat and an ache in his ass that had stung far more than the note telling him Geoffrey Greenberg would be dead long before Az got to him. That fuck had cost Azrael seventy-five thousand dollars, but money Az had. Still, perhaps he should return the favor? Snatch Cortez before Madigan could, remind him why they called Az the Angel of Death.
“I’ll be taking my leave as well,” Az told the others, getting to his feet. “Jonah, my friend, thank you for the invitation. I’ll do my best to help rid the world of these terrible men.”
He nodded to Mina and the other assassin. Neither returned the gesture, too busy looking over the list.
Once Az was outdoors, he pulled his phone free and hit the first number in his contacts. Carrington’s feminine voice answered, “I was starting to think you didn’t need me anymore.”
Az gave a warm chuckle. “How could you even imagine such a thing, angel. I need everything you have on Robert Cortez, including where he is right now.”
There was the sound of keys clacking on a keyboard. “Robert Cortez, the blood diamond guy? Uh, when he’s not exploiting helpless children in South Africa, he’s often at his Palm Beach vacation home. But it looks like he last used his credit card in a hotel bar in Miami Beach twenty minutes ago.”
“Miami, huh? Is he a guest at the hotel? Get me on the next flight out of La Guardia and a reservation at whatever hotel he’s staying at using my Solomon David alias.”
“You got it, boss.”
Did Madigan know that Cortez was in Miami, or would he make a useless flight to South Africa? Even Palm Beach would give Az the edge to even the score. Once at his car, he popped open his trunk and checked his go bag, making sure everything was as it should be. Except, it wasn’t. Somebody had strewn his clothing around the trunk. And his passport was missing. He lifted the mat to look beneath the wheel well, pulling an envelope from underneath. He sighed with relief when he realized his other passports and documents were still there.
He righted his bag with a smile.Okay, if you want to play, we’ll play. He re-dialed the number. Carrington laughed. “Twice in one day. I’m going to start thinking you have a crush on me.”
“Change of plans. Use Khalid Nato for the reservations. It seems I’ve misplaced my other identification.”
* * *
Az approachedthe hotel’s front desk, giving a wide smile to the boy behind the desk with the inky black hair and golden tan. His gaze raked over Az with interest. “Can I help you, sir?”
“Khalid Nato, checking in. I have a suite,” Az said.
The younger man’s fingers tapped on the keyboard in front of him. “Yes, sir. I have your reservation right here. It seems your husband arrived ahead of you. I’ll give you your own room key.”
Az was so busy scanning the busy hotel lobby that it took him a full ten seconds to realize what the man had said. “Pardon?”
“Your husband. Mr. Smith? He arrived early. You were expecting him, were you not?”
Smith? Madigan. That smug bastard. “Yes, of course. I am afraid I’ve had a very long flight and I’m a bit jet-lagged. I’ll take my own bag up if you don’t mind. I want to surprise him.”
The man’s returned smile was conspiratorial. “Of course, sir.”
Had Madigan already taken out Cortez? Az decided it was unlikely, based on the intel Carrington had given him upon landing. “I’m sorry, one last thing. Do you have a restroom down here? It was a long cab ride.”
“Just around the corner by the gift shop.”
“Thank you.”
The men’s room was empty of everything but a small boy washing his hands in the sink. Az made his way to the large stall at the end and slipped on his gloves before removing a vial of jade green liquid. He was careful as he slipped a small plastic lancet into the vial, coating it with the liquid. He pushed his bag into the space behind the toilet. If they found it, the front desk would simply hold onto it.
He disposed of the vial’s contents down the toilet and slipped the spring-loaded lancet between his fingers. It was too small for anyone to notice it.
The pool was too crowded for anybody to even care about another body trying to press in between the girls in bikinis and the moms attempting to wrangle their children. Right smack in the middle of the chaos was the bloated figure of Robert Cortez, smoking a cigar in a black Speedo.