Page 49 of Breathe
Real shrugged, lifted his bag, and stalked toward the door.
“Don’t leave it too long with Azrael, he’s a real catch. Someone, like Winter for instance, is going to come along and snatch him up, and you’ll regret it.”
Real smacked the door open with the palm of his hand, sending it cracking loudly against the barracks’ outer wall.
He stepped outside into the bright sunshine and took a deep breath of fresh air.
Rip had a big fucking mouth and needed to shut the hell up.
One day later…
“I’m telling you that a guy they call Freedom lives there,” Boston whispered.
Azrael sized up the Santa Monica mansion that sat on the cliff overlooking the ocean. It was incredible, but looked like Fort Knox with security. The place also sat behind a wall with wrought iron fencing and a sheer cliff on the far side.
Of course, that wouldn’t keep them out.
But they had to be smart about this. If Freedom was one of Solomon’s boys, then he could be very dangerous.
“I think only one of us should go in,” Azrael said.
“No, we need to watch each other’s backs,” Boston hissed.
“I agree,” Rebel sided with Boston.
They were all crouched behind a retaining wall not far from the big house.
It was midday, and Azrael noticed several unlit flood lights that would light up the area at night. The level of lighting and security was telling, as if the owners had something behind the walls that needed protecting or hiding.
What he didn’t know was whether the house was owned by the assassin named Freedom or if the guy just lived there with someone else. According to their records, Freedom was twenty-one years old and had been one of Solomon’s boys. Freedom, ofall things, had used that information as a reference to obtain hit jobs in their field.
Of course, most people didn’t know that Solomon was dead, so perhaps Freedom thought it gave him an edge. And maybe it did. What Freedom didn’t know was that in using Solomon’s name, he was first on YA’s list.
Azrael briefly wondered why Erebus hadn’t contacted Freedom, but then maybe they had and were told to go screw themselves.
“He’s our age. Maybe we should wait and talk with him,” Rebel suggested, breaking into his thoughts.
“He’s older than me by like four years,” Boston chimed in. “Four years can be a lifetime.”
“We don’t really know how many years he worked for Solomon,” Azrael murmured.
“I wonder if he was sold to Tanis,” Boston whispered.
Azrael’s gut sickened at the mention of Tanis. It was a very real possibility that Freedom had been with both Solomon and Tanis.
Just hearing the fucker’s name reminded Azrael of the day Real had killed Tanis.
It all started when Azrael had been part of a sting on Tanis. Fisher, Crow, and he had to get inside and get Tanis to open up his bunker where young boys were being held.
Azrael knew that he would have no problem getting close to Tanis. In fact, he knew he could get closer than the others on the secret ops because of his looks. In addition, for some reason, predators gravitated toward him. They sensed he might be vulnerable. They were so wrong.
So, the meeting happened at Tanis’ fortress, and down to the bunker they went once Tanis got a look athim. Azrael felt his skin crawl and wanted to gut the guy right there, but there were boys locked in that fucking bunker.
Deep in the bowels of the man’s home, they reached the hallway that led to the steel reinforced door. Azrael’s palms sweat, but his hands were steady.
Only… Tanis had told Fisher to kill Crow. And Fisher was pointing a gun at Crow, and Azrael couldn’t let that happen. They were too close to rescuing those abused boys in the bunker, so Azrael decided to act. He could have won an Oscar for that moment.
Thinking quickly, he had a meltdown right there in the hallway.
