He was interrupted by the sound of gunfire.
We both went silent and stared.
Redmond had identified Luigi’s as a nexus of Cosima’s network. Men came and went from the business at all hours, many of them pretending to be pizza delivery drivers—but the majority of them were picking up shipments of drugs, cash, or guns. Cosima was building out her network, and she needed a way to move illicit goods around the city would drawing too much attention.
The pizza delivery angle was smart. Drivers would come and go as they pleased without any suspicion and stop at random houses with big warming bags. It was an old trick, but it was effective.
“How many are inside?” I asked, body humming with electric intent. I wanted to get out there and stand in the midst of the fighting. “Did you count?”
“There aren’t many. Four employees. All of them members of Cosima’s group.”
“Civilians?”
“They wouldn’t enter until it was empty.”
I nodded, frowning. It was late, close to closing time. The street lights cast long shadows and sent an orange glow over the car.
More gunfire. I was anxious, uncomfortable. “This is taking too long.”
“Be patient.” But he didn’t look calm. His face betrayed him. I studied the contours of his mouth and saw the worry lines etched into his eyes. “They’ll figure it out.”
More gunshots. “That’s too much shooting. They shouldn’t still be fighting.” More and more.
Redmond leaned forward, speaking to the driver. “Get closer.”
“Sir, you told me—”
“Get closer, right now.”
The driver put the car into gear as Redmond exchanged a look with me.
Something was happening. I knew we had a deal, but I didn’t care if he broke it—none of that mattered.
Our little power struggle game was irrelevant if we couldn’t win this fight.
The driver turned around and went the wrong way down a one-way street. He stopped in front of the pizza place and Redmond leaned out the window.
Inside was chaos. There were two dead bodies behind the counter. One of Redmond’s men was breaking into the register—as planned. This was supposed to look like a robbery.
But there was a third body on the floor. He wore black and had a Kevlar vest.
A soldier on our side.
That wasn’t good. This should’ve been easy. Smash in, scare the employees, steal whatever cash and guns and drugs they had, and make sure Cosima heard the message loud and clear: Redmond Orchard was coming.
But now there were bodies. There’d be attention from the cops. More shit for Redmond to deal with.
“I’m going,” he said, opening the door.
“Then I’m coming with you.”
He grunted, hesitating. He looked back at me and I saw the struggle. He didn’t want me in there, but he desperately wanted to head inside and find out what was happening. I was almost touched by his concern and by the fact that he was hesitating for my sake, and I was about to shove him out the door with a whole slew of curses when five men came running out the front.
Five men. Six went in. One was never coming out.
Four scattered. One spotted Redmond, paused, then ran to the Rover and jumped into the front seat. He held a black satchel and pointed ahead. “Get the fuck out of here.”
The driver sped off. Redmond glanced at me then at the soldier. “What happened?”
The man was in his thirties with an ugly crooked scar along his bottom lip. “They were armed. All the fuckers were packing.”
“The pizza people?” Redmond sounded skeptical.
“All of them. I don’t know if they’re always carrying, but as soon as we started yelling, they pulled out guns and opened fire.”
“You killed them?” I asked.
“Had to. No other choice.” He was breathless and almost sounded upset.
“What about the money?” Redmond looked at the bag.
The soldier shook his head. “Empty. There was nothing.”
Redmond sat back. He looked out the window for two long beats then turned back to the soldier. “Repeat that. You said the safe was empty?”
“There was nothing. No guns, no drugs, no cash.”
“Did you have the right place?” I asked quietly, leaning closer to Redmond. “Maybe we should’ve gone to one.”
He glared at me, jaw flexing. “It was the right place. They knew something was coming.”
“They couldn’t have,” I said. “We planned this last night. Nobody knew.”
“Maeve,” Redmond said, like her name was a curse.
“You’ll have to be more specific, considering she’s dead.”
“Cosima’s taking over Maeve’s businesses. She might be taking over all of Maeve’s spies as well.”
I let that troubling thought wash over me. “That can’t be true. Maeve’s spy ring died the second she died. Nobody else could run it.”
“Maybe not, but it could fit. If they knew we were coming, they had to find out somehow.”
The idea chilled me. Someone in our organization was working for Cosima already. She didn’t even know we were out to kill her, and she still had someone watching over Redmond.