Cut & Run 05 - Armed & Dangerous (15 page)

“W E LOST them,” Agent X reported to his superior without emotion. “What do you mean, you lost them? How can you lose two FBI
agents with a prisoner who don’t know they’re being tailed?” “I believe we need to consider the possibility that they’ve caught
wind of us,” Agent X said. “They went through security at Midway like
they were supposed to, but I believe they caused a commotion in order
to flee. We never picked them up at O’Hare, and we later got reports of
an FBI sedan being stolen. The GPS tracking on the sedan has been
disabled. They’re avoiding official channels, zigzagging and
scrambling. It’s classic maneuvering.”
His superior sighed. “Yes, it would appear they know we’re after
them.”
“We picked up their trail when they used a credit card at a hotel in
Portage, Indiana. And again when they got on the toll road. They’re
trying to make the trip overland.”
“That seems imprudent, to go to all that trouble and then use a
credit card.”
“I said they know we’re after them, not that they’re particularly
smart. But we lost them again when they took an unexpected detour off
the toll road into Michigan.”
“Michigan.”
“Yes, sir. Michigan.”
“What’s in Michigan?”
“Snow.”
“What?
“A lot of snow.”
“I see. Find them, understand? Our one true advantage was the
element of surprise. I know Richard Burns, he’s not an idiot. If he
knows we’re coming, make no mistake, he’s put his best operatives on
this. Whatever they’re doing, it has a purpose. Julian Cross cannot
make it to DC. Do what you have to.”
“I understand, sir.”

R ICHARD BURNS sat in his darkened office, eyes on a computer monitor, brow furrowed. Years ago he had installed a special tracking device in Ty Grady’s wristwatch for times like this. Ty could turn it on and off at will and only employed it when he was working a special assignment or in trouble, if he was able. Burns could also ping it remotely when he needed to. It was on now. Ty had turned it on moments after getting Burns’ initial call.

His signal had popped up just west of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, and made its way to Chicago just as Ty had been ordered. Now it was near the state line of Michigan and Indiana, holding steady.

Burns didn’t understand why. Jonas exited the private washroom in Burns’ office, having just showered, and he came to stand over Burns’ shoulder, watching the computer screen in consternation. “Why are they heading north? Are they evading someone?” Burns shook his head and clicked a button that moved the grid

onto one of two flat-screen televisions on the panel on the far wall. “They would have called in if they’d picked up anyone following them or run into trouble.”

“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Burns glanced at the other television on the wall, displaying a

map from Weather Underground. Massive snowstorms were moving across the Great Lakes, the same weather system Burns had warned Ty and Zane about that morning. It was much more massive than he had thought, and Burns narrowed his eyes at the screen again. With the two maps side by side, it was apparent what was going on.

Ty was lost in the snow. Burns found himself smiling fondly, a laugh escaping as he rubbed at the bridge of his nose.
“What?”
“He’s lost. Probably has no idea he’s in Michigan.”
“Lost? Does your man know how important this op is?”
“It doesn’t matter whether I send him to Chicago to retrieve a wet works operative or to Kentucky to get me some goddamned fried chicken, he does his job and he does it well.”
Jonas, of course, knew Ty Grady. He’d known Ty since he was born. But Jonas didn’t know Ty was the one Burns had sent on this mission, and he didn’t plan to tell Jonas that either, not unless he had to.
Burns had also debated over the benefits of telling Ty and Zane what they were getting into, and in the end he had decided it was best to leave them need-to-know. He didn’t know who had followed Jonas’ steps here or who had ears on him, and in the end, the less they knew, the less likely they were to be killed if they were captured.
Burns also knew that if they were aware of the whole story, they would fight and die for a cause that wasn’t theirs simply because Ty would do anything for Jonas, just like he’d do anything for Burns or his father. Burns couldn’t let that happen. Jonas was practically family—a man Ty knew and respected as a dear friend of his father—but Burns wouldn’t risk Ty or Zane for him. Better they be innocent bystanders, blindly following orders, than complicit in what was happening.
Jonas looked at him for a long minute, then nodded and turned away. His hand moved to the pocket where he’d been keeping that burner phone, a nervous gesture Burns had noticed more than once.
“Do you want someone to get in touch with Trish?” Burns asked, recognizing the restless maneuvering of a husband who was beyond late for dinner.
Jonas shook his head. “The less she knows, the better.”
Burns nodded. It was the mantra of every dark operative in history.
He looked back at the screen, a stab of guilt going through him as he stared at the blue dot that was Ty and Zane. Those boys had given up too much for this kind of work. Far too much.
They had stopped moving, and Burns guessed they had bedded down in the blizzard despite the early hour. A blizzard wouldn’t stop the men coming after them once the CIA caught their scent, though. Nor would it stop Julian Cross.

T HEY had the honeymoon suite. Two rooms with the bedroom in the back, no windows, and one door in and out. To escape that bedroom, you had to go through the other half of the suite. It was so perfect that Zane was afraid to find out what the catch was.

As soon as they entered the room, Zane went to the heater and cranked it up. Cameron kept his head down, fleeing for the bathroom. He was upset, but Zane couldn’t blame him.

Ty escorted Julian through the room to the bedroom, Zane trailing behind them to help secure Julian to whatever they could find. Ty had fished a handful of bungee cords out of the trunk with something close to unholy glee.

“Antiques dealer, huh?” Ty asked Julian, voice laced with amusement and contempt as he tossed his jacket onto the bed. He was still irritable and tense from the drive, and the target of his ire appeared to be Julian. Zane wondered what had been said in the car when he was gone to up the level of animosity between them.

“Yes.”
“That’s original.”
“I don’t strive to be original.”
“And the kid?” Ty asked.
“What about him?” Julian asked, shoulders stiff.
Zane looked up at his partner as he flipped through channels on

the muted television, trying to find the Weather Channel and wondering what it was about Julian Cross that annoyed Ty so. Ty had told him that parts of Julian reminded him of Zane. Well, parts of Ty and Julian reminded Zane of the way he and Ty had treated each other when they first met. The tension was palpable, but there was an added layer to it that Zane really didn’t want to ponder.

“You know you’re going to get him killed, dragging him all over the place like this.”
“I wouldn’t say
I’m
dragging him anywhere,” Julian said, utterly calm.
“He has no idea what you do or who you are. You’re doing nothing but putting him in danger,” Ty said. “You really think he’d come willingly if he knew the truth about you?”
“Yes. And sometimes it’s safer that way.”
“Safer, my ass. Ignorance is not bliss, you know.”
Cameron chose that moment to step out of the bathroom, unaware that he was the subject of their conversation.
Julian looked Ty up and down. “Are you telling me you’ve never lied to a loved one?”
Ty raised his eyebrows and shook his head, an entirely insolent look that would have made Zane want to smack him if it had been aimed at him.
“You’ve never kept something from your partner to keep him safe?” Julian asked, voice growing colder.
“No, I haven’t,” Ty answered without a moment’s hesitation.
Julian’s eyes narrowed, and he took a step closer. He and Ty were too close now. Close enough that they couldn’t even look each other up and down without leaning away. Cameron shot Zane a nervous glance, and Zane stood, tensing.
Julian’s voice was low and mocking when he spoke to Ty. “You’ve never lied to someone to keep them safe? Wife? Mother? Boyfriend?”
“No,” Ty said, not reacting to Julian’s last word.
“Fine, you’ve never done it. I’ll believe that out of someone like you. But have you ever lied to someone you loved because you were following orders, Special Agent Grady?”
Ty didn’t flinch, didn’t react in any way other than a jump in the muscles of his jaw. “No.” His voice had dropped dangerously.
The hair on the back of Zane’s neck began to prickle because he knew damn well that was a lie, and Ty had managed it seamlessly.
Julian narrowed his eyes. They stood toe to toe, glaring evilly at each other, neither willing to cross that line and attack, whether verbally or physically. Zane stood back, watching them through wide eyes. He had no desire whatsoever to mix it up with Julian Cross, but if this continued he’d be happy to sit the man down.
“You’re an excellent liar, Agent Grady,” Julian whispered, his voice deceptively calm and borderline seductive. He leaned just a little closer, close enough he could have touched their noses together. He cocked his head. “You think I don’t recognize you? My memory is not as selective as yours.”
Zane straightened as Julian’s words registered. He looked back and forth between the two men. They knew each other? What the hell?
“Julian, what are you talking about?” Cameron asked.
Looking at Ty, Zane could see that he had stopped breathing and gone still, like a snake about to strike.
Julian continued, his voice disturbingly intimate. “When last I saw you, you were speaking flawless French, plying a wealthy Parisian with drinks, and selling… antiques. Do you remember me now?”
Outwardly Ty didn’t react. His face remained impassive and stony, revealing nothing. That alone was enough to tell Zane that what Julian said was the truth. But Zane hadn’t picked up on the fact that Ty knew Julian. It must have been at least a few years ago, or Ty would have remembered. And Ty hadn’t been to Paris since Zane had known him.
Unless Ty had been to Paris, and did remember, but hadn’t let on that he did. A heavy ball of doubt settled in Zane’s gut.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ty finally said.
Julian continued to stare at him, and Ty still hadn’t moved. Julian raised his chin, snorting. “What sort of man must it take to make even his eyes lie?” he asked, the words dripping with disdain and scorn. As far as he’d experienced, Zane knew Julian got a good read on people. But what had he seen in Ty to make him say something that cruel?
Ty continued to look at Julian, the anger and combativeness leaching out of his expression to leave him staring impassively. Not only had he gotten control of his temper, it had disappeared. Zane had never seen his partner like this.
“You call me a monster,” Julian said, voice low. “At least I know what I am.”
“I know what you are you too,” Ty whispered back, not acknowledging the hit in any way.
The room fell into tense silence. Zane shifted his eyes toward Ty and waited. But Ty stood staring at Julian, face expressionless and body relaxed. He neither looked Zane’s way nor even acknowledged that he and Cameron were there. It was like waiting for two dogs to fight, sensing that they were about to lunge and being helpless to stop it. Zane walked in a half circle to put himself in Ty’s line of sight, perhaps six feet away. Until Ty came out of whatever headspace this was, it was better not to get too close.
Julian sensed him moving, and he gave Ty one last disdainful look and moved to sit beside Cameron on the end of the king-size bed.
All three of them watched Ty expectantly, and Ty stood glaring at them all. It was time for some kind of explanation. Zane could imagine Julian making something like that up; it would serve the purpose of driving a wedge of suspicion between Ty and Zane if they began fighting over it. It was a classic psychological technique. But Zane’s gut told him that it felt like the truth.
Ty’s eyes moved to meet his. His jaw tightened and he squared his shoulders, as if expecting Zane to launch his own attack. Instead, Zane slid one hand into a pocket and held out the other, palm up. He didn’t want to fight about it. He just wanted to know; to know if Ty was in danger, to know if they were in danger because of this. As much as being kept in the dark pissed him off, Zane knew better than to demand answers from his lover and partner, especially in front of Julian and Cameron. That was a quick trip to an ass-kicking. Or worse, a stonewalling.
“Go ahead,” Ty said, his voice grim.
Zane tried to keep his voice calm. “Do you want to fight? Because I don’t. But there’s a lot of numbers not adding up, and you know me and numbers.”
“I don’t want to fight,” Ty answered. His eyes shifted to Julian again, a spark of anger in them.
“Then forget about him and focus on me,” Zane said, letting his hand start to lower.
Ty looked back and raised his chin. “I swear to you, Zane, I’d never seen him before this case.”
“You’re a bloody liar,” Julian muttered.
When Zane met those hazel eyes, he tried to see what Julian must have seen, but he just didn’t. All he saw was the man he knew and loved telling him the truth. Everything in Zane confirmed it. “Then that means he’s seen you. In Paris?”
“I’ve never been to Paris.”
“Don’t let him lie to you, Agent Garrett,” Julian said.
“Shut up,” Zane snapped.
Ty lowered his head, but his eyes remained on Zane’s. It gave him a predatory look.
Zane knew that Ty was wound up too tight about this for it to be a simple matter. “This is one of those things you can’t tell me about. That’s crystal clear.”
Ty exhaled sharply and turned away, running his hand through his hair as he headed for the door. Ty always aimed for open space when he was agitated, windows and doors and balconies. Like he was making certain he had an escape route. Only now it struck Zane as Ty wanting to get away from him.
Zane took a step to go after him.
Ty swept his hand out and grabbed the lamp off the dresser, then turned, ripping the cord from the base, and threw it against the nearest wall with a wordless shout of frustration that was lost in the shattering of the ceramic.
Zane flinched but didn’t move. Julian stood but remained by the bed, where Cameron sat cringing away from the debris. Zane took a step toward them. It registered with him that he was afraid of what Ty was going to do, because Zane couldn’t tell, and he’d gotten pretty adept at that. This was just one of so many unspoken truths between them. Maybe Ty feared them as much as Zane did.
“Goddammit, Zane!” Ty shouted as he continued to pace like a caged animal. As he ranted he waved one hand in the air, pointing accusingly at Zane and Julian and even Cameron as he did so. “What are the fucking odds of him knowing me? I worked that job for eighteen months without so much as a hint of trouble, and now of all people it’s that fucking Irishman that’s going to get that cover blown. Why couldn’t you have just let me shoot him like I wanted to in the first place?”
Zane’s brows rose higher the longer Ty ranted, and that rigid ball in his chest relaxed. If Ty could yell, it would be okay. It always was. What he was saying didn’t help Zane feel any better, though. “Nothing’s blown.”
“Everything is blown! Forget whatever Burns wants with him, Zane! He knows me from Paris, and he just made me as a Fed!”
“Who is he going to tell? Who’ll believe him?”
“Hey!” Julian said, affronted.
“Don’t borrow trouble. We have enough as it is,” Zane continued as he waved a hand at Julian.
Ty was silent; Zane couldn’t even hear him breathing.
“Don’t consider a year and a half of work thrown away before you know for sure,” Zane said. “You’re too fucking good at… whatever the hell it is you’ve been doing… to just chuck it because of one asshole with a bad accent.”
“Hey!” Julian repeated.
Zane turned to face him as Julian took a step toward him. He realized their mistake too late. They had let themselves get pulled into an argument and dropped their guard before Julian was fully secured.
He attacked without further warning, launching himself at Zane and knocking them both to the ground. Zane heard Cameron cry out. Julian’s body was solid and heavy on his as Zane hit the ground hard. Zane rolled as soon as his back hit the floor, flipping them over and kicking Julian over his head. He barely had time to gain his knees before Julian hit him from behind. They rolled across the floor.
Zane landed on his back again, Julian pinning him. He managed a jab to Zane’s ribs, and he pulled his fist back again, aiming for a blow to Zane’s temple that was sure to knock out the lights.
Zane flicked a wrist and a knife shot from its sheath. He palmed it, prepared to do real damage to Julian’s midsection.
Ty stepped into his vision, catching Julian’s fist in one palm before it could land against Zane’s face. He twisted Julian’s arm, and Julian arched his back and shouted in pain and anger. Ty turned gracefully until he was kneeling behind Julian with one arm wrapped around his neck, the other twisting Julian’s hand back and up.
“Stop! Please!” Cameron cried as he stood up and stepped forward.
Zane pushed himself off the floor and grabbed Cameron, holding him back as they both watched Julian struggle against Ty’s arms.
Ty clasped his hands together over Julian’s shoulder, closing the choke hold as Julian tried to reach his face to find something tender to jab his thumb into. Ty closed his eyes and lowered his head, hiding his face against Julian’s neck, making it almost seem intimate. They were too close for Julian to hurt Ty enough to loosen his grip. His elbows landed uselessly on hard muscle, his fists hit Ty’s hips instead of his groin. Ty was too heavy and too low for Julian to flip over his shoulder.
Zane realized that Ty was whispering to Julian as he tightened the chokehold. “It’s okay, you’ll be okay,” he was repeating to Julian even as he rendered him unconscious.
“He’s killing him!”
“No,” Zane said in a hoarse voice.
There was something fascinating and morbidly beautiful about watching it, though. Ty held tight to the larger man, wrapping him up, head bowed and expression calm when he opened his eyes again. It was perhaps the first time Zane had ever seen Ty’s eyes go blank like that; he seemed almost meditative. Zen-like.
Julian tried to duck his head, attempting to open his airway, but Ty had closed the hold too quickly. After a few more seconds of struggling, Julian’s body went limp. Ty continued to hold him for another few breaths, and then he released him and let him thump to the ground. When he stood he looked up at them, meeting Zane’s eyes. Everything about Ty, from his body to the look in his eyes, felt calm and still.
It was like seeing a new person.
“Oh God,” Cameron whispered. Zane let him go. He fell on Julian, taking his face between his hands and calling to him.
“He’ll be fine,” Ty muttered. He stood stock-still, staring at Zane. The stillness was unnerving; Ty was never still. He fidgeted and paced and vibrated and bounced and twitched and rocked when there was no other outlet for all the nervous energy he stored up. But now he was so still it was like looking at a statue.
Zane closed his eyes and counted heartbeats, just breathing, trying to hold onto composure that was cracking. Ty was scaring him, and Zane had no idea what to do about it.
“You’re right,” Ty said, the words stirring the tension in the air and cutting through it.
Zane blinked his eyes open and raised his head to look at Ty. He was still standing motionless, hands at his sides. He was looking down and his lips were parted, tongue pushing against the corner of his mouth as if he was deep in thought. Zane had seen the expression before, right before copiers started blowing up. He statistically had a very small percentage of heading that off, but Zane didn’t know if he was up to it with so much uncertainty suddenly flowing between them.
“Well,” Zane said with forced lightness, “the extent of my French is
voulez-vous coucher avec moi
and
ménage à trois
, so I hope you won’t consider me a threat.”
Ty looked up at him, his expression one of clear calculation. It passed and his shoulders slumped. “Don’t be like that, Zane, come on. You had to know the kind of stuff I was up to on some level. And I haven’t worked a job since we got assigned together.”
Zane sighed. “Of course I did, Ty.” He was sure Ty had no idea how much Zane knew about that kind of stuff. He shifted his weight back and forth, trying to shake off the discomfort this entire week had caused.
“Will someone please tell me what just happened?” Cameron shouted, his voice high and wavering.
Ty shook his head, looking down at Cameron and Julian’s limp form. “He’ll be awake in five minutes.”
“What the hell did you do to him?”
“Blood choke. Cut off blood flow to his brain. He’ll be fine.”
“Ty,” Zane said in a whisper.
Ty looked back at him, his expression softening. “I’m sorry.”
“I know. Me too.”
Ty frowned. “What for?”
Zane shrugged. “Either for letting the secrets go on so long or for pushing about it now, I’m not sure. Either way, it puts you in a bad spot.”
“Excuse me, can one of you please help me here!” Cameron said as he lifted Julian’s head off the ground.
Ty rolled his eyes and bent to shoo Cameron’s hands away. “Zane.”
Zane moved closer, bending to help Ty lift the unconscious prisoner onto the bed. The man was solid and a deadweight, way too heavy for his frame. “Jesus, he’s made of granite,” Zane said in a strained voice.