Page 89 of Zain

“We goin’ in now?” Taschen asked.

Micha whined.

“We’ll search the perimeter first. I want eyes on Dana before we go in shooting.”

“In the picture, it looked like the basement window had plywood over it, if I remember correctly.”

Zain nodded. “Plywood’s not hard to get through.” He rubbed his thumb over the pads of his fingers. It’d be better if they separated. “If I can get to Dana first, then you can secure the assassin. That’d give us the best option of getting Dana out in one piece.”

“All right.” He dug into his pocket and pulled out earbuds. “Do you know how to use this?”

He plucked one of the tiny pieces of equipment from Taschen’s palm and tucked it into his ear. “Yeah, I used one on occasion with the CIA. Loop around back and drop me off down the alley. I don’t want any neighbors spotting me with a fucking assault rifle.”

“Copy that.” He shifted into gear and rounded the corner, turning down the alleyway. He drove past a few houses before Zain ordered him to stop.

“Let me know if you spot her,” Taschen said. “Then I’ll go through the front with Micha.” A scowl creased his forehead. “We got the bastard.”

“I’ll believe that when your sister’s safe.” He grabbed his weapon from the back and got out. Gravel crunched beneath his boots as he made his way toward the rear of the house. Stopping at the fence, he rose up on his toes to glance over the wooden boards.

Dead grass covered the backyard, and a broken birdbath was tipped over in the middle of the lawn. Flower beds riddled with weeds and debris surrounded the sun-bleached back porch. The blinds on the windows were tightly drawn, and he couldn’t spot any movement inside.

He slung his gun over his shoulder, grabbed the top of the fence, and hauled himself up. After landing on the earth with a thud, he got to his feet. Holding his weapon, ready to blow the cocksucker holding Dana to pieces, he skirted toward the side of the house.

Dead weeds collapsed beneath his steps as he scanned the perimeter of the foundation. One lone window sat near the ground. He got to his knees and inspected the glass.

The screen was open, and broken glass lay in front of a rectangular chunk of plywood. If he broke the rest of the glass to move it, he’d make too much noise.

He lowered his ear to the wood. “Dana,” hecalled softly.

Nothing.

“Dana.”

Again, no response. Sweat trickled down the back of his neck. If she was here and the asshole was with her, he might end up with a bullet in the face. If she was hurt and unresponsive, he needed to get to her.

Holding his finger on the trigger and the gun aimed at the window, he kicked the plywood. The piece flipped to the floor with a sharp crack, revealing an empty room.

The door was wide open. On the gray concrete floor was a wet dark stain. A bucket sat behind the door and a tattered brown blanket. No sounds came from inside the house.

Unease fisted his stomach.

She was here.

Urgency shot him to his feet. He brought his finger to his ear and pressed on the bud, no longer giving a damn about being quiet. “Taschen. She’s gone.”

“What the hell do you mean?”

“The room’s empty. But she was here.”

Taschen cursed a blue streak, echoing the sheer panic rushing through Zain’s head.

“I’m going through the back door now,” Zain said. “Check the garage.”

“On it.”

He bounded up the steps and ran at the backdoor. His shoulder slammed against the old wood, and the hinges gave way. The door bounced open, and Zain steered his gun around the mudroom. He stalked into the kitchen, moving swiftly, every footstep trained.

Come on, you bastard. Show yourself.

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