34
Liam
Kissing my Ty?
That motherfucker was lucky I’d just stuck a tranquilizer in his ass instead of killing him. I was seething as Ty and I pulled the guys I’d knocked out in the hall into the room with Lez, binding them with zip ties we’d brought with us. Then we made our way back out into the main room, where the two contestants were still going at it, one bashing the other’s face into the cage repeatedly as the attendees went wild.
Like the fucking animals they were.
Ty glanced around, I figured disturbed the way any decent human would have been at the vile display of one of the most perverse of human desires. Fortunately, I had a mission I could focus some of this toxic energy on, put this rage into my work, and if I was real lucky, have the opportunity to kick some ass in the process.
We navigated our way through the crowd.
Tara had already issued a warning that Junior had five more guards at his disposal—this in conjunction with the guards in charge of the auction, whom we’d have to evade to get him out of the building.
Not as bad as it could have been, that was for sure. And so far, everything was going according to plan.
As we neared the back entry leading up to the attendees’ boxes, I noticed Kyle, in disguise, having a lively conversation with one of the attendees. As much of a dick as he could be to me, I had long since learned his power to capture the interest of anyone he wanted to strike up a conversation with, and the man he talked to was no different as he easily laughed at some comment Kyle had made.
“Showtime,” I whispered.
“Affirmative,” Mick said just before the lights shut off. Not even five seconds passed before they flashed back on.
“All clear,” Tara said, verifying she’d placed our security camera device on the one upstairs, which would give her the ability to take a loop and replay it so that we would go undetected.
Kyle dropped his drink, which shattered on the floor, and shoved the guy who’d just been laughing with him. The bouncer beside the door quickly rushed in, and Ty and I slipped into the back hallway.
No other guards were present.
“Okay, you’ve caused quite a stir, Kyle,” Tara’s voice came over the line.
“I know, right?” Kyle followed as Ty and I headed up a set of stairs and stepped into a hallway illuminated by incandescent bulbs mounted into the ceiling. I checked the camera Tara had rigged. Two men stood outside Junior’s box. They headed down the hall toward us, looking to one another before their gazes returned to us. “Excuse me,” one said. “Do you mind if we check your tickets?”
Before they had a chance to catch on to us, I decked one and kicked the other from the side, slamming him against the wall, and he went crashing to the floor. He stirred, but a sharp sound pierced the air, and when I followed its direction, I discovered Tara with a tranq gun.
Ticktock, ticktock, ticktock.The more of a stir we caused, the quicker we’d be discovered.
I heard a shuffle behind me and turned to see Kyle step out of the hall entryway. He hurried to us.
“Just knocking ’em down left and right, aren’t we?” Kyle asked. “Easy-peasy.”
“I fucking hate when you get cocky,” I said, knowing all too well how quickly things going our way could turn against us and we could find ourselves in a jam. I wasn’t a superstitious man, but I didn’t care to push my fucking luck when a job was playing out well. Or let arrogance get the best of me.
We headed through the hall, toward Blackmore’s box.
Tara grabbed Ty’s arm and led him into her box, keeping the door open. Kyle and I dragged the guards in and bound them with zip ties, then looked to Tara, who indicated the wall between our box and Junior’s.
The outlines of two circular holes in the wooden panels were on display, both still covered to evade discovery. Small plastic hooks stuck out from the center, making it easy for us to pull them out. We pushed our tranq guns through, using the peepholes she’d created just above the space for our guns.
Three guards sat around Junior.
“You take the left guard and Junior, and I’ll get the two on the right,” I whispered to Kyle.
We nodded to Tara, then turned our attention to our targets.
“Showtime,” she said as she stepped up on a chair and lit up a lighter next to the fire alarm. A moment later the entire place blared with the sound.
As soon as we started shooting, Junior leaned forward so that he was concealed by the back of his chair. We’d nailed the guards, who began searching around, reaching for their guns as one murmured in his mic for help. I spoke into Lez’s walkie, in his tone, assuring them I was on my way.
