Cut and Run 09 Crash & Burn (34 page)

Zane sat on the front porch. He’d been caught spying, and though Nick and Kelly had laughed it off, he still felt awful about it. He’d expected to find himself eavesdropping on a fight, not a tender moment. He was still blushing even as he held his phone to his ear, listening to Clancy report on what they’d found in Switzerland.

So far they were striking out because they had absolutely no authority there, and opening up international channels would be impossible without tipping off the entire intelligence community to what they were doing. Zane told her about the numbered account and missing code word, and with the information her team had already culled, it only took her a few minutes to find the right bank and even the right contact at the branch they needed to visit. Clancy was good at her job, Zane had always known that. He was more impressed than ever with her now, though. He knew whose name he’d be submitting to replace him when he left his post.

Without the code word, though, even Clancy was at a dead end. She insisted they had to find those three missing pieces. They needed them, and for the first time Zane wasn’t sure if they’d be able to get to the money at all.

What the hell were they going to do if they had nothing to trade the CIA for their freedom? The Company had made it quite clear to Ty that he was only useful if he brought that stolen money in, despite the fact that they probably had enough information to prove they were innocent. They even had enough information to give to the CIA and tell them to figure it the fuck out on their own. But without the money, there was no guarantee the CIA wouldn’t burn them. And if they’d learned one thing over the years of dealing with men like Randall Jonas and Richard Burns, it was that they couldn’t trust anyone.

What the hell were they going to do?

He thanked Clancy and hung up, taking a deep breath of the cold night.

The creak of a floorboard behind him was the only indication he was no longer alone. Ty sank to the step beside him.

“Bad news?” Ty asked softly.

“We need those missing pieces. Without them, we’re dead in the water. We may as well start figuring out which alphabet agency we want to kill us.”

Ty nodded and sighed. “We’ll powwow one more time, see if we can’t brainstorm something new. And we still have Cross and Preston out there, they may come up with a miracle. If nothing else . . . we’ll head to Miami. If we can’t bring the CIA money, maybe we can bring them de la Vega as the next best option. He’d be a huge win for whatever agency we take him to. It might work.”

Zane nodded, watching Ty sympathetically. Ty’s mind must have been reeling if he thought they had a snowball’s chance in Hell at getting to de la Vega.

Ty glanced at him, smiling gently. “Nick told me you were pulling a Peeping Tom in there. What’s wrong, love life not exciting enough anymore?” he teased, pushing his shoulder into Zane’s.

Zane blushed, ducking his head. “I thought they were going to fight.”

“It’s Nick and Kelly. They never fight.”

Zane nodded. He had to admire Nick’s fortitude. Not only had he withstood Liam’s mind games, but he’d actually managed to use them to his advantage.

“If only everything was as easy as that,” Ty said, staring off into the distance.

Zane scooted closer and slid his arm around Ty’s waist. He kissed Ty’s shoulder, then rested his chin there as he held on to Ty.

Ty sighed out a puff of air and rested his cheek against Zane’s forehead. “First Jonas, now Burns. I can’t help but feel like my family is tearing itself apart.”

“It’ll be okay,” Zane whispered. He nudged his face closer, holding Ty tightly. “We’ll make it. You, me, family. We’ll make it.”

Ty didn’t respond, merely sat there nuzzling Zane in the darkness, both of them swaying gently as Ty began to hum a tune. Then he straightened suddenly under Zane’s hand, gasping, “Oh my God.”

“What?” Zane asked, raising his hand like Ty was hot to the touch.

“Family. Three missing pieces. Three photos, right?”

“Probably.”

“Before we left for Scotland, Dick gave me, Deuce, and my dad each a framed photo for Christmas. It was weird, he didn’t usually go for that kind of stuff. It was him and my dad in ’Nam, him and Deuce at his college graduation, and him and me at Parris Island.”

“That could be it, doll. Where are they?”

“Mine’s at the house. Dad’s is somewhere, Ma probably hung it up. Who the hell knows with Deuce.”

“Call them. Call them now.”

Ty scrambled to his feet and hurried back into the house to retrieve the brand-new, secure phone Preston had brought them. Zane stood as well, staring after him, hope burgeoning in his chest finally. A shadow moved in the corner of his eye, and he pulled his gun, aiming at the intruder without making a sound.

“Put it down, babe,” Kelly said.

Zane lowered it with a roll of his eyes, sliding it back into the holster.

Kelly stepped out of the shadow of the building, glancing through the windows to check that the others were all inside. Then he looked back at Zane, silent and still.

Zane fought the urge to shuffle. “What?”

Kelly smiled slowly. “You heard me and Nick?”

Zane sighed, blushing yet again. “I told you I was sorry for spying.”

Kelly nodded minutely. “You think Nick’s right? About Bell?”

“No,” Zane whispered.

“Why?”

Zane took a deep breath. “Bell’s tried twice to convince me Nick switched the bullet that would have killed Ty in New Orleans. He’s still playing sides, sowing seeds. I don’t trust him. I
won’t
trust him.”

“Yeah,” Kelly replied, hanging his head and twisting his fingers together. “As long as we all know.”

“I got your back, Doc,” Zane promised. “We won’t let Nick slip away.”

Kelly gave him a sad smile and a lazy salute. Zane heard the door thump, and he turned to see Ty coming back out with his phone to his ear. When Zane glanced back at Kelly, the man was gone.

Zane put his back to the darkness, just a little unsettled, and indicated for Ty to turn the speaker on his phone higher.

“What do you mean, where’s my picture?” Deuce was saying. “Dude, you have
got
to remember that people can’t read your brain waves.”

“The framed photo that Uncle Dick gave you last Christmas,” Ty clarified. “Do you still have it?”

“Yeah, it’s in my office.” Deuce sounded suspicious. “What’s going on?”

“You still out of town?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Anyone know where you are?”

“What?”

Ty huffed impatiently. “Is there a trail that someone could follow to find you?”

“I guess, but we’re on a yacht in the Caribbean, so . . . Ty, what’s going on?”

“I need to break into your house.”

Deuce sighed loudly. “Again?”

Zane left Ty to it, hurrying inside to roust anyone who might be sleeping. Most of them were gathered in the living room already, and Zane rounded up the stragglers, including Kelly, who had somehow made it back inside. Ty came in a moment later, shoving his phone into his pocket.

“What happened?” Nick demanded.

“Figured out where the missing pieces are,” Ty answered. “One in Philly, one in Bluefield, one back in Baltimore.” He glanced at Zane, breathing out shakily.

Zane nodded. “We can’t hit all three places, stay under the radar, and keep ahead of the NIA on this. We have to split up.”

“Is that our only option?” Owen asked.

“It is, yeah,” Ty answered with an apologetic tilt of his head.

“We’ll go in three pairs,” Zane said. “One man waiting in the wings as backup.”

“You already know you’ve got trouble in Bluefield,” Kelly argued. “Take the third man there.”

“Okay. Doc, you’re coming with us.” Ty waggled his finger between himself and Zane before he headed for the hallway to get their supplies.

Kelly opened his mouth as Ty walked away, but he didn’t get a chance to voice an argument. He looked at Zane, his brow furrowed. “That’s not really what I was aiming for.”

“Ain’t it a bitch?” Zane asked, following after his husband.

“Surprised they let us go at this alone,” Liam told Nick as they moved toward Ty’s row house in Baltimore.

“I promised them I’d kill you and throw your lifeless body into the ocean on the way home.”

Liam gave Nick a sideways glance, narrowing his eyes like he was trying to determine if that was true or if Nick was just fucking with him.

Nick took the key from his pocket as they waited in the shadows at the corner of the block, watching the row house.

“Figures,” Liam grumbled. “We get the place we
know
was being watched.”

“More chance of losing you in a scuffle,” Nick muttered.

“Sorry?”

“I said, front door or balcony?”

Liam shrugged, wincing as he glanced up at the moon. It was shining bright on the newly fallen snow, and that didn’t exactly do them any favors. It was too cold for them to stand there with their thumbs up their asses for too long, and there was no darkness for them to hide in, no way to conceal their entry into the house from the pure white snow.

“Rather not deal with the neighbors and all that. Now or never, eh mate?” Liam finally said with a sigh that billowed out in front of him.

Nick just nodded, and they crossed the street together at an angle, both of them tense and wary. Liam was an absolute son of a bitch, but even Nick would admit he made a good wingman on nights like this. He always had.

They didn’t encounter anyone on their way in. Getting into the house was easy too, since Ty’d given them his key. They both stood in the entryway, listening. The house was silent, but something didn’t feel right. Nick glanced over at Liam, frowning. Liam nodded. He could feel it too.

Nick pointed at Liam with two fingers, then gestured toward the stairs.

Liam nodded and started silently up the steps. He managed to avoid most of the creaky places, but it was an old house and he wasn’t a fucking magician.

If there was someone lying in wait, they’d know Nick and Liam were here. Nick began to rummage through the kitchen loudly, working as a distraction to give Liam time to find the photo. All they knew was it was on the third floor. All they had to do was take a picture of the thing, out of its frame, and send it to Zane. He’d said the photo would serve better than the print itself.

After a few minutes of making noise with the kitchen drawers and stealing two of Ty’s cigars from under the sink, Nick headed up the steps, taking them two at a time. There was no need for silence now.

He stopped short in the hallway outside Ty and Zane’s bedroom, attention caught by a photo on the wall. Ty’s house was full of photos. This one was of Ty and Elias Sanchez on the day they’d graduated from the academy at Quantico, standing with Richard Burns and smiling for the camera. Nick had to shove down the anger he still grappled with every time he thought about Burns and the way he’d lured them into the Bureau, into whatever ring of corruption and evil he’d been running. Now wasn’t the time to linger over things he couldn’t go back and fix.

The ceiling above him creaked, the noise almost lost in the ambient sounds of the building. Nick’s head jerked up, his body tensing. Liam was up there, of course. Nick had one hand on his weapon, regardless.

He’d spent plenty of nights in Ty’s bedroom or the guest room on the third floor, listening to the house creaking, to the neighbors talking. It was always weird, coming from the solitude of his boat. He waited a few more seconds, just to be sure, but no other sounds came from above.

He gazed at the picture of Sanchez, Ty, and Burns and then forced himself to move away. He had to focus on the people he could help now. He wiped his eyes with the back of his sleeve as he headed for the top floor. The stairs were silent under foot, so he cleared his throat when he found Liam up there. Liam’s phone was out, and he was watching the screen with a frown.

“Got it?” Nick whispered.

“It’s going slow, the bastard.” Liam winced, glancing up at him. His eyes widened. “Irish!”

Nick ducked instinctively, and whatever had been swung at him from behind grazed the top of his hair.

Nick turned on his assailant, pulling his gun and kicking out at the same time. The man tumbled backward down the stairs, crashing into the wall and knocking all the framed photos off their nails to clatter on top of his head.

“O’Flaherty,” Liam hissed as he took the photo and stuffed it under his jacket. He ran for the balcony, yanking the stubborn doors open. “Come on!”

But Nick stood at the top of the stairs, eyes on the man who lay at the bottom in a heap. He was groaning and trying to get back to his feet.

“Go on, get that photo to transfer,” Nick told Liam. “I have a few questions for our friend.”

“Irish,” Liam said urgently. “He is not the mission. Hear me? And if I go back without you, the Doc will kill me.”

Bonus. Nick nodded, then started down the steps. He heard Liam curse, and then slip out onto the balcony.

Liam knew when to carry on with a mission, and his mission right now was to make sure that picture went through to the others. Nick had a new endgame tonight.

He got to the bottom of the steps, his gun trained on his attacker. The man was still sprawled on the ground, holding his head.