Cut & Run 05 - Armed & Dangerous (27 page)

T Y KNEWthe names of the valet and the concierge, so it didn’t take anything for them to make it inside the swank Regatta building in downtown Philadelphia. They rode the elevator all the way to the eighteenth floor, to the penthouse suites. Instead of knocking on 1802, though, Ty pulled out a small lock picking set and bent toward the doorknob.

“Shh.” There was a click and Ty opened the door. “Let’s hope he hasn’t changed his code,” he said as he slipped in and disappeared.
Zane sighed and turned to glance at Julian and Cameron. Both men had been quiet since leaving Gettysburg. They all had. Ty especially had been concerned about the watch he’d left behind, but Zane couldn’t decide if he felt guilty for having been the reason they’d been found or if there was something more troubling him. Knowing Ty, he felt guilty about
something
.
It was clear now that someone very powerful did not want Julian Cross to get to Washington. Zane had to wonder why Burns hadn’t told them what they faced, but that was just how Burns worked.
There was a small sound within the condo, a sweeping sound and a barely audible click. Zane had enough time to turn his head and peer through the doorway before he saw a shadowed figure moving inside. He moved to stand with his back against the hallway wall, next to the open door, chin turned to the side to watch for movement. It wasn’t that he was scared of who was inside—quite the opposite. He just knew the Gradys well. He didn’t want to get shot, smacked, or stabbed, accidentally or otherwise.
There was silence for a few moments, and then a sudden shout, and the sound of a scuffle ensued.
“Ow!” Ty cried out finally. “Deacon, it’s me!”
When Zane peered around the doorframe, he could barely make out the scene in the dim light from the moon through the windows. Ty lay on the floor with his hands held out in front of his face, his younger brother standing over him wielding a wooden baseball bat, raised and ready to swing it down again. A sharp bark of laughter escaped before Zane could stifle it, and he leaned against the doorframe, chuckling.
“Ty?” Deuce Grady said as he lowered his bat and looked down at his brother, who was still cowering on the floor. He looked over at the doorway and then back down at Ty. “What the hell, man? You have a key!”
“Oh, Jesus.” Zane beckoned for Julian and Cameron to come closer. “I didn’t know he had a key,” he said, giving up on hiding the somewhat strained laughter bubbling in his voice.
“Man’s an idiot,” Julian muttered.
“Sometimes I’m inclined to agree,” Zane said under his breath.
Inside, Deuce was helping Ty to his feet. “I don’t have it with me and I was trying not to wake you,” Ty hissed, keeping his voice down. “We didn’t want to draw attention in case anyone was watching. Garrett, quit laughing and get them in here.”
Zane stepped into the penthouse and looked around. It opened into a grand foyer with high ceilings and large windows that displayed a huge terrace with views of the Ben Franklin Bridge and the Delaware River. There was marble flooring, and directly to the right of the entrance was a designer kitchen all in sleek, cool colors. There was a den and a solarium, where it looked like Deuce had set up his office. It was a million-dollar home, Zane had no doubt.
“Jesus, Deuce. This is… nice,” Zane said as he looked around the penthouse.
“Thanks,” Deuce said, sounding confused by their sudden arrival but too polite to ask them what the hell they were doing there in the middle of the night. “It serves as my office too, so I can justify a little luxury.”
“Nobody cares, Slugger,” Ty muttered.
Deuce looked down at the baseball bat still in his hand and shrugged, unapologetic.
Beside Zane, Julian cleared his throat and reached his hand out to Cameron, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him close.
“What is this, your version of a camping trip?” Deuce asked Ty as he set the bat aside and moved to help with the bags they’d carried in.
“We’ve run into some… trouble,” Ty said with a wince.
“Run
away
from some trouble,” Zane corrected as he shut the door behind him.
“I see,” Deuce said. He flipped on the kitchen light and turned to look them over. “I don’t see blood.”
Zane smiled and stepped up to hug Ty’s brother. “It’s good to see you again, Deuce.”
“I wish I could say the same,” Deuce said, though his voice was still warm and amused as he returned the hug. He glanced at his brother, who was unconsciously rubbing at his forearm where he’d apparently blocked one of Deuce’s swings with the bat.
“Uh,” Ty said as soon as Deuce looked at him. He cleared his throat and dropped his hands. “This is Julian Cross and Cameron Jacobs. They’re in protective custody,” he told Deuce as he waved his hand at the two men.
“Oh, now it’s protective custody?” Julian muttered. “No more get on your knees, let me bungee you to the roof of the car?”
Ty glared at Julian and Cameron. “Gentlemen, this is my brother, Deacon.”
“Call me Deuce. Protective custody,” Deuce repeated. He glanced at the two men, then at Ty and Zane again speculatively. “And your gimp brother got the drop on you with a baseball bat? Really, Ty?”
Julian made a sound in the back of his throat that may have been a stifled laugh.
Cameron looked among them and rolled his eyes. “Could you direct me to the bathroom, please?” he asked Deuce.
Deuce turned and pointed toward the dark hallway. “First door on the left.”
Ty was grumbling and rubbing his forearm as he moved to the nearest chair and threw himself into it. “Where’s uh… what was her name? Yoga girl?”
“Livi,” Deuce said with a smile. “She went home last night, had to feed her dog.”
Ty nodded. “Best to keep her away while we’re here.”
“Sure, let me just call her up and tell her I’m harboring my brother, his partner, and their two federal fugitive buddies for a few days, take herself a spa weekend. That won’t get me accused of anything nefarious.”
Ty waved a hand through the air, obviously not caring.
Deuce glanced at him before turning his attention back to Zane and Julian. “Dare I ask what you’ve done to deserve protective custody?” he asked Julian.
“I deal antiques,” Julian answered in a soft voice.
Deuce nodded, looking Julian up and down. He turned his head to look at Ty speculatively. “That’s a euphemism for ‘I kill things’, isn’t it?”
Ty closed his eyes and nodded.
“It’s classified,” Zane murmured as he pulled off his jacket and tossed it over one of the bags. Julian was silent and still behind him.
“All righty, then,” Deuce said cheerfully. “Do you need food, showers, or beds?”
“Beds,” Ty answered, voice thin and exhausted. He had been taking the bulk of the driving, simply because he was the best suited to being able to keep himself awake and he’d known where he was going as they’d set out for Philadelphia. But he had reached the end of his stamina on the outskirts of the city.
After they’d fled Gettysburg, they’d basically had three options: head for DC as fast as they could and risk hitting a CIA roadblock, go home to Baltimore and hope the CIA wasn’t sitting on their homes, or abscond to Philadelphia in the hopes that their pursuers wouldn’t expect it. In the end they’d decided that trying to get to DC would be suicide; every road in and out could be watched, and they couldn’t risk driving into the hornet’s nest. Baltimore had been viable, but they’d feared it would be watched too. Since the CIA had known to find Ty’s tracking device, they obviously knew who Ty and Zane were now and where their home was. They would spend a few nights in Philadelphia, as long as they dared, and then try to sneak their way back to DC somehow.They just needed a night’s sleep before they could figure out how to do it.
Ty was rubbing his eyes. “Those two can take the guest bed. Zane and I will fight over the couch.”
Deuce just nodded. “Come help me unearth the air mattress, we’ll toss it in the floor here,” he said as he jerked his head at Ty and turned to head down the hall.
Ty pushed himself out of his chair and followed.
Julian waited until both men were out of sight before taking a step further into the room to look at Zane. “Which one of them is adopted?”
Zane snorted. He knew on the surface, the two Grady brothers seemed very different. While Deuce did look a lot like Ty—he was an inch or so taller, much less broad, his hair was lighter, and his eyes were greener—their personalities could not have been more different. Ty was often abrasive and blunt, wielding sarcasm like a weapon, while Deuce was more diplomatic and kind, finding the gentlest ways of saying even the harshest of things. They had completely different tastes in everything from clothing to decorating to the cars they liked to drive. Their similar looks and quick wit were really the only things they seemed to share. Zane knew better, though. Deep down in their psyches, both brothers were really just waiting to get old enough to sit on a porch and bang things with a shovel.
“You ought to meet the rest of the family.” He arched his back, listening to the audible pops of his spine as he stretched within the confines of his gun holster. “But they’re good people,” he added, looking at Julian. “Deuce is one of the best.”
Julian merely looked back at him. Finally, he nodded almost imperceptibly. “I decided I liked him the moment he hit Grady with a baseball bat.”
“Deuce doesn’t take shit from anybody, Ty included. Or maybe Ty especially.” He shrugged and leaned over to pick up one of the bags, and his mind moved on to more serious concerns as he looked back at Julian. “We’ll stay here for a day, get some rest and food. Let me know if you and Cameron need anything.”
Julian nodded again, swallowing hard as his eye strayed to the hallway where Cameron had disappeared. It was easy to see that Julian was worried now. Before, he’d either thought he could keep the situation under control or he’d been masking his apprehension well.
“Anywhere we touch down now will be a hot zone,” he said, his voice still soft and barely audible. “Agent Grady’s brother will be in danger as well if we stay too long.”
“Ty is well aware,” Zane said, though he shared Julian’s concern, at least for Deuce.
The low light mostly masked Julian’s reaction, but he seemed tense and reserved, as if he wanted to say something he was keeping himself from saying.
Ty’s voice filtered down the hallway. “How are you going to hit me with a bat I freaking gave you for your birthday? That shit’s commemorative.”
Deuce’s response was muffled by his laughter.
“Do you believe in God, Agent Garrett?” Julian asked suddenly, his eyes on the hallway.
The question caught Zane off guard, but he wasn’t sure that was Julian’s goal. Religion didn’t have much place in Zane’s life anymore, like a lot of other things. But did he believe?
“Yeah,” he said quietly. Zane figured he’d have long ago been in the ground if it wasn’t for some higher power watching out for him.
Julian was nodding. “You should. It’s a bloody miracle your partner has lived this long,” he murmured. He began moving toward the kitchen. “Man’s an idiot,” he muttered under his breath as he passed Zane.
Zane didn’t laugh this time. In years past he had sat uncounted times in the dark of night, smoking, shooting up, drinking, wondering if the coming morning would be the one when he didn’t wake up. Sometimes he’d even prayed for it.
But not since Ty. Yeah, he believed in miracles.
“It’s not like I knew it was you,” he heard Deuce insisting as he came back down the hall.
“That’s what Grandpa said when he broke my nose.”
“Again, you deserved it.” Deuce emerged from the hallway carrying a plastic storage box that probably contained the air mattress he’d mentioned. Ty dropped an armload of bedding on the floor. Deuce set the box on the couch and looked at Zane, then glanced around to see where Julian had gone. He gestured between Ty and Zane, and his voice was pitched low when he asked, “Y’all need separate places to sleep?”
Zane blinked away his preoccupation. He could muse over divine intervention another time. “No, they know everything. And one of us needs to keep watch anyway.”
Deuce inclined his head, looking at Zane carefully before nodding. He turned to look at Ty, but Zane couldn’t see Deuce’s expression when he looked back at his brother.
Ty was ignoring Deuce’s pointed queries, or at least pretending to, taking the lid off the storage box and poking around inside.
“This thing got a pump?” he asked as he pulled the heavy air mattress out.
“No, Ty, you have to blow it up,” Deuce answered in a flat voice. “We’ll take turns, should have it done by August.”
“I love you too,” Ty muttered as Deuce moved past him to head back down the hall, presumably for the pump.
Zane watched as Ty messed with the mattress. “This is where you came, isn’t it?”
Ty looked up as he laid the mattress out and knelt to spread it flat. He nodded before Zane could say more. “He always knows how to talk me off the ledge.”
“I’m glad.” Zane turned in a half circle and then sat on the couch nearby. A part of Zane, a very small, dark part, had been worried that Ty had fled to Boston and Nick O’Flaherty when he ran from Baltimore.
Ty merely nodded as he stretched to flip over the last corner of the air mattress. He stood carefully, obviously sore and stiff, and he rolled his shoulders and neck as he straightened. He turned and jumped when he found Julian standing in the doorway to the kitchen, watching them.
“Jesus Christ!” Ty hissed at him. “Stop doing that!”
Julian’s lips twitched in what might have been a smirk. Zane couldn’t help but feel slightly vindicated. Ty did that to him all the time.
“Tell your brother not to touch the handle of the front door,” Julian said as he stepped over the flattened mattress and moved to sit in a leather club chair close by.
“Great,” Ty muttered.
“How’s Cameron holding up?” Zane asked.
Julian shrugged, looking down the dark hallway. “About as expected. I think he’s still in the washroom.”
“How do you rig a doorknob with kitchen utensils?” Ty asked, still exasperated but also sounding a little too keen to learn a new trick.
“A large percentage of accidental deaths occur in the kitchen. It’s a dangerous place,” Julian drawled, almost seeming to enjoy himself.
Zane turned his attention to Julian. “Will you still be with us in the morning?”
Julian’s eyes cut over to Zane, but nothing else moved. “If I still intended to run, I would have done so already. The time for escaping cleanly has long passed. As far as I’m concerned, the more weapons and people who know how to use them, the better.”
“Including baseball bats.”
“I’m sure we’ve all been in situations where we longed for something as appropriate as a baseball bat.”
Zane nodded as Deuce came back down the hall. He stopped and tilted his head at Julian. “I believe your friend needs you,” he murmured, his voice gentle and soft. He sounded almost like the psychiatrist he really was.
Julian stood immediately and moved toward the hallway. “Good night, gentlemen,” he said as he left the room.