19
Chris holstered his sidearm and nudged the door open with the muzzle of his rifle.
A man slumped out of the cabinet and onto the floor.
“Syed,” Azadah breathed close by his shoulder. Of course, she must have seen the files he and his men had been studying.
“A bit of overkill, Deuce,” Conway observed as he joined them and looked down at the body.
At least a dozen shots had hit him. Face, chest, neck. There was also a nasty gash on his arm, the single slice with which Azadah had saved his life.
“We clear?”
“Roger that.”
Chris looked at his watch. He wanted to comfort Azadah. Make sure she was unhurt. He wanted to tell her things that a man only ever told one woman.
But there wasn’t time.
“Five minutes. Gather intel, then we’re gone.”
“Roger that.”
As Chris moved about the hous
