Touch&Geaux (39 page)

He stopped in front of Digger and Owen. “What in God’s

name is that?”

“Ketchup. And some other stuff,” Digger answered. He

and Owen had spent all morning fil ing quart bags with the

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concoction. “Barbecue sauce, Crisco. Chocolate powder and

water.”

Ty’s nose curled as the list went on. It sounded like

something Digger would cook and serve at home.

They put enough of the sauce in each bag to let them

remain slim when sealed and flattened. Then they duct-taped

the bags to the outside of the Kevlar vest.

Liam picked up one of the bags and squished it. “Marines

are disgusting.”

“Hey,” Owen grunted.

“I have to agree right now,” Nick said. He had a quart

tub of Crisco and had been mixing it with diaper cream and

chocolate powder to make face paint. The diaper cream had

an especially unpleasant smell. “We’re putting this on our

faces.”

Liam shuddered and poked at the vest Ty would be

wearing.

“What about the back?”

Digger shrugged. “We got no way of doing that without

wiring Ty with some small explosives.”

“Fuck no,” Ty said immediately.

Liam snorted. “It’ll have to do.”

The vest itself was white, made to look like a T-shirt

beneath other clothing. It reduced one layer, but with the

Kevlar and the slimy bags of fake blood, Ty’s mobility would

still be cut down. He wasn’t meant to be mobile, though; he

simply had to stand there and die.

His stomach tumbled with nerves and he wiped a hand

over his face. “Did you scout the location?” he asked Liam.

Liam sauntered over and sat opposite him, nodding. “I

have a nice little nest all set up on—”

“Don’t tell me where,” Ty interrupted. “If I get nervous,

I’m afraid I’ll look at you.”

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“Okay. There’s graffiti everywhere, so I put a big black X

on the pavement where you’re meant to stand. Try to get as

close as you can to it, yeah?”

Ty nodded. He picked up the bullet he’d just finished and

held it up for Liam to see. “Hollow-point round.” He held up

another, one he hadn’t messed with. “Armor-piercing round.”

He waved them together. “Do not get these mixed up.”

Liam chuckled, then leaned closer, sighing heavily and

meeting Ty’s eyes. “Tyler, if I wanted you dead, I would have

done when it was easy to kill you.” He plucked the fragmenting

round from Ty’s fingers. “We have no way of marking it.”

“No. Any etchings on the outside will fuck with the spin.

Hell, I’m even afraid to mark it with a Sharpie.”

Liam was humming, turning the bullet over. He clutched

it in his hand, then patted the back of Ty’s neck, pul ing his

head to press their foreheads together. Ty closed his eyes.

Months of their time spent together in arid camps in Kabul

and damp training instal ations in the south of England came

back to him. He’d trusted this man.

“You did this for me once,” Liam murmured. “It’s time I

return the favor.”

Ty nodded, swallowing hard.

Liam’s voice dropped lower. “And if you want to stay dead,

I’ll always be a call away.” He released Ty and stood.

Ty sat back, eyes still closed as he fought for calm. He felt

Liam moving away. The front door opened and snicked shut

again, and just like that, Liam Bell was gone.

Ty took a deep, unsteady breath and glanced up.

Zane was standing in the bedroom door, watching him.

“You okay?”

Ty nodded.

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“I’m about to make the calls,” Zane said. The activity in

the room died down, everyone stopping to look at Zane. “Is

everyone ready?”

Ty looked around, taking in the faces of the men he’d

called his friends, the men he’d loved like brothers and spilled

blood for. And then Zane. The only man Ty had ever truly

given his heart to. If there was anyone to make a last stand

with, it was the men in this room.

“We’re ready.”

Zane sat astride Liam’s Honda Shadow, a bandana with

a menacing skull printed on it pulled over his face. Ty sat

behind him, his hands looped over Zane like a seatbelt, tied at

the wrists. They had a pillowcase over his head, a large smiley

face drawn on it.

“Trust me,” Digger told him. “This is New Orleans.

Nobody’ll bat an eye.”

“Let’s kick it, Garrett,” Ty said in Zane’s ear.

Zane didn’t waste more time with goodbyes. He gunned

the bike away from the house, winding their way through

the streets toward the hulking wasteland of Six Flags New

Orleans.

The noise of the motorcycle signaled their arrival, and

that was exactly how Zane had wanted it. All eyes on them.

The front gate of the park had been cut and left ajar, and Zane

used the bike to plow through it. He came to a halt in the park

entrance, stunned by the shape of the place.

The map had shown a happy amusement park set up

in a vague circle around a center pond. On the far side was

a large body of water, abutted by an area of the park called

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Pontchartrain Beach. It was a long, wide thoroughfare, and

that was where Zane had told Valencia and Gaudet to meet

him.But the map hadn’t prepared him for the park itself: an

urban badlands, left to hold its own against the elements and

urban explorers with spray paint.

“Jesus, Ty, you know how to pick them,” Zane muttered.

“Is it as creepy as it feels? ’Cause I can’t see shit through

this thing.”

Zane nodded.

Main Street Square was built to mimic the architecture

of the French Quarter. It boasted stunning colors and Creole

townhouses with sweeping galleries, but it was all covered in

graffiti and debris. Weeds encroached. Huge pots sprouted

weeds and saplings, and many had “NOLA Rising” written

on them. Zane couldn’t take his eyes off the crumbling

façades. Left to their own devices, the buildings had begun to

tear themselves apart.

“Zane,” Ty whispered. His arms tightened around Zane’s

chest. “We can’t linger.”

Zane gave a curt nod and maneuvered the bike through

the trash and detritus along the causeways. Other parts of

the park were in even worse shape, and Zane pushed the

motorcycle faster, not liking the feeling the park gave him.

When they reached the bend that began Pontchartrain

Beach, Zane stopped the bike, and Ty pulled his hands over

Zane’s head so they could dismount. Zane grabbed the rope

between Ty’s hands and looked at him. The garish red smiley

face grinned back.

He walked Ty ahead of him, jerking him by his arm,

shoving him around debris in his path.

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Five men in pristine suits stood to one side of

Pontchartrain Beach, their backs to the swampland behind

them. Under an awning on the other side of the wide

causeway, Gaudet and his very large son stood with two men

in uniform. And Ava. Her eyes were red and her face was

puffy. She took an involuntary step toward them when they

appeared. Her brother held her back.

Zane pulled Ty closer, standing just behind him, a gun

jammed into his ribs. Faded blue waves were painted all over

the pavement, as if he and Ty were submerged in some surreal

river, and several feet away was the large X Liam had marked

on the ground.

Zane stepped beside Ty and turned him, then swept the

pillowcase off Ty’s head. He met his eyes one last time, trying

to memorize every fleck of gold, every imperfection and quirk.

There was fear in Ty’s eyes, and Zane’s resolve almost left him.

But he shoved him, making him stumble toward the X.

“Xander,” Mateo Valencia said. He stepped forward, his

arms spread wide. “Or should I say, Zane?”

“Call me whatever you want. I’m not here to chat. I’m

here to end this.”

“A position I share,” Valencia said. He ran a hand along

the scar on his cheek, the one Zane had given him years ago.

“Tell me why I should not just kill everyone here and leave?”

Gaudet pulled his gun, and his men followed suit. “You

can try it.”

“That’s exactly what I want to avoid,” Zane shouted. “One

death! That’s all we need here. And I have just the man for

it.” He gave Ty another shove, closer to the X. “Commander

Gaudet, you know this man as Tyler Beaumont. He has

information you need, am I right?”

“That’s right.”

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“And Mateo, the only thing you need is the man who

killed Antonio. Muerto. Si?”

“Claro que si.”

“So what’s the problem?” Zane asked.

“What is it you’re getting out of this, cowboy?” Gaudet

asked.

Zane opened his mouth to speak, but Valencia beat him

to it. “He is one of ours. A thorn the FBI inserted into our

paw. A thorn we removed and sent back to them with poison

in him.”

Zane hated the sound of that, but he kept a stony face.

“And I want out from under de la Vega. This is my ticket.

Do we have a deal?”

“It is agreeable to me.”

“And I’m guessing you want out of my city with a free

pass, huh?” Gaudet asked.

Zane nodded.

“Fine.”

“Let us get this done with,” Valencia called.

Zane took a shaky breath. Nerves were building. “Gaudet,

what is it you want to know?”

Gaudet stepped forward, but not too far from the

protection of the others. “The information you gathered,

Beaumont. What happened to it?”

Ty shook his head.

Gaudet gripped Ava by the arm, pul ing her forward.

“Talk some damn sense into him.”

She took a ragged, unsteady breath. It was loud in the

silence of the dead park. “Ty,” she said with difficulty. “I’m

sorry. I don’t know what to do.” She began walking toward

him.

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Zane saw her father raise his arm, his gun trained on her

back. His body jerked, but thankfully Ty reacted before he

could.

“No!” he called.

Ava startled and whirled to face her father. She stumbled

back when she saw him lowering his gun. “Daddy?”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry, darlin’. Make that boy talk.”

“Okay!” Ty shouted. His voice broke. “Okay. Cher, viens

à moi.”

Zane had heard Ty whisper enough French to understand

that order: Come to me. Ava didn’t hesitate, and Ty caught

her and stepped in front of her, shielding her. Tears were

streaming down her face, but Zane saw her slip a small blade

into Ty’s palm. Zane shook his head. They hadn’t anticipated

this. Who the hell would’ve expected the man to threaten his

own daughter? He licked his lips, glancing to the swamp. If

this went to hell, that swamp was their only hope.

Liam made a low whistling sound through the device in

Zane’s ear. “Little touch and go there, lads. Who do I shoot

first if things go to hell?”

Zane made a shushing sound.

“The information you gathered?” Gaudet demanded.

“Katrina wiped it out,” Ty said quickly. “Everything I had,

it’s gone. There’s nothing left on you.”

Gaudet pursed his lips and nodded curtly. It seemed to

Zane that Ty had merely confirmed what Gaudet already

knew. “It’ll do. Ava, girl, get back here.”

“Mais non!” Ty cried.

“I think I’ll be taking her with me,” Zane growled.

“Payment for services rendered.”

She gulped air, trying not to cry as she gripped the

back of Ty’s shirt. Ty was covertly slicing through the ropes

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at his wrists with the knife she’d slipped him, preparing for

everything to go to hell. Ava was made of tough stuff, Zane

could say that about her. But she was about to fall apart.

“Shoot him now, Xander, or I will,” Valencia called,

obviously tiring of the family drama.

“Ava, run,” Ty gasped. “Run!”

Ava backed away a few steps. Zane rounded on Ty, putting

his back to the Colombians and raising his gun. He pointed

it at Ty’s chest. He met Ty’s eyes, seeing the fear there, the

uncertainty.

“One,” Liam said in his ear. “Two.”

“Zane,” Ty whispered. Zane’s world began to slow.

“Three.”

Ava darted forward, grabbing Ty’s shoulder and swinging

around him. Zane pulled the trigger. The blast echoed through

the park, two shots becoming one.

Ty’s shout was lost in the sound of the shot. The bullet

thumped into her back and threw her into Ty. He caught her

around the waist as she fell, crying out, cradling her with a

hand to her face as they both dropped to the ground.

“Shit!” Liam shouted. “Son of a bitch! Stupid fucking

girl!”Other shouts mingled with the hammering of Zane’s

heart in his ears. He took a step toward them, watching as Ty

laid her lifeless body on the ground, his hands shaking and

covered with blood.

“Oh God, Ty.”

Zane could hear guns being drawn behind him. Ty

grabbed Zane’s hand and pulled himself to his feet. He shoved