Authors: Unknown
police we should really be worried about.”
229
“What do you suggest?” Kelly asked.
“Call the local Bureau office. Tell them what’s going on.
Get backup. Get the cops off our asses. Make this something
official instead of . . .” He waved at Digger. “Criminally insane.”
“I’ll lose my job,” Ty said. He was pacing, head down and
arms crossed.
Nick craned his head. “What? Why?”
“I’m not supposed to be here. I could compromise half a
dozen cases just by showing my face.”
“Why the hell didn’t you say something before you came
down here?”
“You told me you were in jail!”
Nick made a disgusted noise. He leaned his elbows on the
table and began to massage his temples.
“Call Burns, he’ll get you out of it,” Zane said, surprised
by the bitter sarcasm that came out.
Ty stared at him for a long moment, looking wounded,
before he began to pace again. Zane forced himself to meet
his eyes.
He was ashamed to admit he still wanted to see Ty burn.
He’d hoped Ty would come at him again last night, that they’d
go down swinging at each other. But he knew deep down that
Ty wasn’t that type of man. He wasn’t going to chase Zane, or
beg and plead with him. He wasn’t going to hover over him
and swat the drink from his hand every time he grasped it. He
would let Zane walk away, he would let Zane self-destruct, he
would internalize anything he was feeling, and become that
same man he’d been the day they met. A hard, sarcastic shell.
Zane could already see him building up those layers, and he
hated Ty for it.
“So what’ll it be, lads?” Liam asked. He winked at Zane.
230
Kelly and Digger both craned their heads to look at Ty as
he paced. Owen was resting his head on the table.
Ty had his back to them, his head down. He really only
had two choices. Get himself fired to keep everyone safe,
or risk their lives, and a murder rap, to take down the cartel
heavies.
“Hey, Six?” Digger said quietly.
“I’m not your goddamned Six anymore,” Ty grunted. He
began to pace again. “Call the Bureau,” he finally said, his
voice grim.
“Ty,” Nick said carefully.
“My job or your lives? There’s no choice there.” Ty met
Zane’s eyes across the room. “Make the cal . Tell them you’re
bringing in a Confidential Informant. That’s what I was
supposed to be if my cover was ever blown. Use the name
Tyler Beaumont; that’ll ping any dirty Feds, so we’ll go in
expecting a trap.”
Zane didn’t move. His heart was sinking and it was too
painful to move right now, to look away from Ty’s eyes. If Ty
lost his job, what would they have between them? “You’re
willing to give it up?”
“It’s not about being willing anymore, Garrett,” Ty snarled.
“Make the fucking cal .”
The curtain behind the bar wavered, and Ava pushed past
it to lunge into the room. “They’re coming!” she hissed. “My
daddy and his boys. They’re coming here. You have to leave!”
Chairs scraped on the wooden floors as everyone stood
and scrambled toward the stairs to retrieve their gear.
“Are they coming for us?” Ty asked Ava.
She nodded. “Shine called me, told me they were on their
way. They know you’re here.”
231
Ty cursed under his breath. He reached out and pulled
her to him, hugging her tightly before he let her go and darted
up the steps.
Only Zane remained, still sitting at the table, arms crossed.
He stared at Ava until she turned to look at him.
“You called him. Didn’t you?” Zane asked, voice pitched
low so only she would hear it.
Her breath caught. She swallowed hard and inclined her
head, squaring her shoulders. “Ty isn’t the only one in town
who’s scared of that old bastard,” she whispered. “But he’s
the only one I know who just might be able to kill him if he’s
given the chance.”
“You’re using him to get rid of your father. Risking his
life.”“That’s what men like him are for.” She turned on her heel
and ducked behind the curtain again.
Ty led them through the residential streets of Marigny,
pushing them to reach the French Quarter, trying to stick to
the Easter crowds, desperate to keep his mind on survival and
off the fact that his heart was breaking every time he and Zane
were close.
“If we can get to the cathedral, we can lose ourselves in
the crowd until the parades start,” he told them. Soon they
neared Jackson Square and St. Louis Cathedral, one of the
most recognizable landmarks in the French Quarter.
People milled around dressed in their Sunday best. Every
woman wore a hat of some description, and many of the men
did as well.
232
“Shit, you think we’ll be killing people on Easter Sunday?”
Nick muttered as they neared the cathedral.
Ty nodded and Nick cursed, then stopped briefly in front
of the cathedral and made the sign of the cross as he faced the
soaring spires. Kelly grabbed him by the arm and tugged him,
peering up at the structure.
“Forgive him, baby Jesus, he knows not what he does,”
Kelly said, then pulled Nick with him.
“I’m going to Hell anyway, I don’t know why I bother
anymore.”
Ty turned down Pirate’s Alley, the narrow lane that skirted
the cathedral, and then they cut through St. Anthony’s garden,
the tiny area behind the cathedral where four unmarked
tombs rested. Ty leapt over one of the marble slabs. He could
hear Nick complaining behind him.
“They’re empty!” Ty called to him. All but one, but Ty
didn’t add that. He led them on through several turns until
they reached Antoine’s Restaurant. The place was obviously
closed, but a crowd was building in the street.
“What is this?” Zane asked. He was a little out of breath,
but then, so were the rest of them.
“The first parade starts here at nine or nine-thirty. We
should be safe for a while.”
“Despite the fact that the police station is two blocks that
way?” Zane asked, pointing toward Royal Street.
“What are you, like a walking map?” Digger asked.
“Sort of, yeah,” Zane answered.
“The station will be damn near empty right now,” Ty told
them. “There are three parades today, plus the Easter services.
They’re already out. The safest place is in a crowd, and this is
all I got.”
Nick patted him on the shoulder, nodding. “It’ll do.” 233
“Call the Feds,” Owen said as they all parked themselves
near the façade of the restaurant. They looked like wandering
vagrants. Their clothes were unkempt, they were carrying bags
on their backs, and Ty and Zane were both wearing hats they
had taken from Murdoch’s office before leaving.
Ty pulled out his phone and dialed the number for the
local Bureau field office.
“Yes, I need to speak with Gregory Pike,” Ty said as soon
as the call was answered. He could feel the others forming
a sort of barrier around him and Zane as they stood on the
periphery of the parade crowd. He ducked his head to avoid
being recognized or caught on any security feeds.
“I’m sorry, sir, Special Agent Pike no longer works here.”
“Shit,” Ty hissed. He put the phone to his chest and closed
his eyes, trying to think. Pike had been the handler for all
UC cases before Katrina hit. He’d been a solid, trustworthy
local, one who’d proven impervious to bribes or scandal. His
replacement could be anyone, and Ty didn’t trust just anyone.
He cleared his throat and brought the phone back up. “I need
to speak with his replacement, then.”
“One moment.”
Nick shook his head urgently. “Replacement?”
“I know. I don’t think we can trust him,” Ty whispered.
Zane extended his hand. “How do you know?”
“This is New Orleans, Zane, you don’t trust anyone. But if
I hear his name, I might know him.”
“Hang up,” Nick hissed.
Kelly gripped Nick’s shoulder and shook his head. “This
is the only avenue that doesn’t end bloody. We’ll go in careful,
bug out if he doesn’t feel right.”
Ty glanced around the faces staring at him and noticed
one missing. “Where’d Liam go?”
234
The others searched around, but Liam Bell was nowhere
to be found.
“He bailed,” Zane said. He sounded surprised.
Ty gritted his teeth. “We consider him hostile now.”
“Does that mean I get to shoot him?” Nick asked.
“Yes.”
Owen cursed. “We can’t fight a three-front war with a few
of Digger’s toys and four guns.”
Zane shook his head. “We can’t fight one front if we don’t
get help.”
Saint Louis Cemetery #1 on Basin Street was the oldest
cemetery in New Orleans. It wasn’t far from where the parade
started. The walk was excruciating for Zane. Ty wouldn’t
make eye contact with him, wouldn’t even glance in his
general direction. Zane wasn’t sure which of them should be
apologizing or if there was even anything left to say after last
night. Ty had crossed a line, there was no question of that. But
last night, Zane had crossed one too.
He trailed along, silent as Ty told them a little of the
history of the cemetery so they’d be familiar with the terrain.
The raised tombs were due in part to the Spanish and
French traditions of the original New Orleanians, but also
served as a solution to the fact that New Orleans was below
sea level. Solid land was at a premium even in the 1700s, and
using it to bury the dead was just bad business. So the iconic
aboveground cemeteries of New Orleans were pieced together
over the centuries. Ty told them they would have lots of cover,
but to be careful about taking blind turns, as they might wind
235
up smacking straight into an abandoned vault that had sunk
half into the ground.
There were three gated entrances into the cemetery, only
one of which stayed open. It was otherwise surrounded by
high walls. Not a fortress by any means, but an excellent place
for such a meeting. The maze inside would offer cover, and
the limited points of egress would make it easy to spot anyone
who shouldn’t be there.
As the parade inched down Bourbon, they began to split
off. Ty was to double-time it to the north and circle back,
heading down Rampart and then cutting through Louis
Armstrong Park. He would approach Basin Street Station, a
visitor center with a roof terrace that was the perfect place to
put a sniper. He’d secure a position up there and remain until
it was clear. He carried Liam’s British-made AWS suppressed
sniper rifle with folding action in a nondescript violin case
he’d stolen from La Fée Verte.
Owen and Digger were to enter the cemetery and loiter
on the south side to prevent entry, while Nick and Kelly were
to guard the back gate from outside the cemetery.
Zane was left to head straight down St. Louis Street and
approach the cemetery at its main entrance.
The ear buds Digger had provided were dependent on
small wireless radios, and as long as the radio was within a
few yards of the ear bud, they would work. Zane kept his in
his pocket. They had a limited range, but Zane could still
hear the others after they all went their separate ways. Ty
remained silent for several minutes, his harsh breathing as he
ran the only evidence that his ear bud worked at al . Then his
breathing evened out and he began to whistle a tune. Zane
slowed his pace, a feeling of dread coming over him. When Ty
whistled, it never boded well.
236
The street in front of the cemetery’s main entrance was
crowded with parked cars and several horse-drawn carriages.
Zane hung back, loitering and strol ing up and down the
street for nearly an hour as he observed the area. The others
were doing the same, reporting in occasionally. Ty had made
his way to his roost somehow, and since Zane hadn’t heard
him trying to charm any employees, his guess was Ty had just
snuck up there.
“I got a Fed,” Ty finally whispered in Zane’s ear. “Coming
up on Garrett now.”
Zane watched a thin man in a dark suit step out of a black
Tahoe that he’d parked illegally along the street, then head
straight for the cemetery entrance as he buttoned his suit
jacket.
“Got him,” Zane said under his breath. “Anyone
following?”
“It’s clear back here,” Nick said.
“Got a vehicle parked on this side,” Owen reported.
“Some sort of touring van.”
“Go on your count, Garrett,” Ty murmured.
Zane waited a few more minutes, then crossed the street
at an angle, standing in the grassy median and shielding his
eyes from the sun. The Basin Street Station building was to his
right. It was pale yellow with black iron workings around the
top terrace. That was where Ty had set up. It was impossible