Cut & Run 05 - Armed & Dangerous (32 page)

B URNS stood as soon as he heard the commotion outside. For his assistant to be railing at someone like that, it had to be Ty. Relief flooded him. They hadn’t heard from him in days. Burns had begun to face the very real fear that Ty and Zane might be dead. He heard the telltale response to his assistant in a gruff voice, and then the door to his office was shoved open.

Burns has a standing order not to be disturbed!”
“Go eat your granola, Nancy, don’t worry about it!” Ty shouted. “It’s okay, Nancy!” Burns said in a stern voice as Ty shoved a

Both men were disheveled and breathing hard, as if they’d just run up the steps of eleven stories and not taken the elevator. At first glance, Burns thought he was looking at Zane, but when he looked at the man directly, he realized his mistake.

“Director,” Ty said to him in a sarcastic, hoarse voice. “Door-todoor delivery. Sorry we’re late.”
“Jesus, Dick, you didn’t tell me you sent Earl’s boy out there!” Jonas blurted in outrage.
The man Burns now recognized as Julian Cross tensed and took a step back, face grim. His eyes darted to Jonas and back to Burns. “What is this?” he asked. He turned on Ty, grabbing him by his shirt collar and slamming him against the door to Burns’ office. “You lied to me!”
Ty seemed shocked, staring at him in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
“Let him go,” Jonas said, and Burns saw him draw a gun from the small of his back. It had a silencer on the end of it. Certainly not standard-issue.
Julian eased his grip on Ty’s shirt and shoved him one last time against the door before turning to face Jonas.
“What the hell is going on?” Ty asked as he looked at Burns.
Burns met his eyes with a growing sense of apprehension. He wasn’t sure he knew what was going on anymore. “Randall. Put the gun away,” he said.
Jonas shook his head. “You didn’t tell me you sent Earl’s boy after him,” he said again through gritted teeth.
Burns glanced back at Ty, who was standing with his hands out like he was balancing on a thin piece of rope.
“You want your mastermind?” Julian asked in a disgusted voice. “There he is.”
“What?” Burns blurted out as he looked between them.
Jonas glanced at him, his eyes hard. “I’m sorry, Richard. You were my last chance to get to him.”
“You used me?” Burns growled, taking one step forward in his anger. Jonas turned the gun on him, then back to Julian and Ty as he stepped further toward the corner of the room.
“Disarm yourself, Richard, or I shoot him right here.”
Burns clamped his teeth together and carefully removed his weapon to set it on the floor.
“Now you two,” Jonas said to Julian and Ty. “All your weapons.”
Ty still looked stunned. He had known Jonas since he was a little boy. He’d spent family vacations with the man.
He took his standard-issue sidearm out of its holster and tossed it to the ground, eyes never leaving Jonas. Julian slid a gun from the belt of his trousers and tossed it away as well.
“No backups?” Jonas asked with narrowed eyes.
Ty shook his head. “No, sir,” he said, sounding as if he hated himself for using the same term of respect he probably always had with Randall Jonas. Ty’s habits were hard to break, though.
Jonas glanced at Burns again. Burns knew he was trying to decide whether to kill them all or try to convince Ty and Burns to go along with him in his scheming.
Ty took one step forward and slid over, putting himself between Julian and Jonas’ gun.
“Stop moving, Tyler,” Jonas said as he took a step back to match.
Ty shook his head. “I can’t let you shoot him, sir.”
“Boy, I told you to move.”
“Ty,” Burns whispered. He knew now how deep Jonas’ betrayal went. He didn’t know if Jonas had it in him to shoot the son of one of his oldest friends, a man he’d literally rocked as a baby, but Burns didn’t want to find out.
Ty lowered his head like a bull preparing to charge. “I can’t let you shoot him.”
Julian moved behind Ty, shifting from one foot to another. “Stop moving!” Jonas shouted.
“You’re going to have to go through me,” Ty said. His words wavered, like he knew how high the possibility was that Jonas would do just that.
Jonas’ eyes narrowed, and the muzzle of his gun trembled. Burns held his breath, afraid to move for fear of setting Jonas off. He could not stand here and watch Ty be shot in front of him. He would not.
“He’s the only one who can take me down.”
“Not anymore,” Burns said. “We all can. Are you going to kill us all, right here in my office?”
“If I have to,” Jonas said. His eyes hadn’t left Ty and Julian.
“I’ve known you since we were eighteen!” Burns shouted.
The crack of the bullet hitting the glass window behind them made them all jump. Burns dove to the ground as he tried to decide where the sniper’s round had come from. The bulletproof glass had spiderwebbed in concentric patterns around the high-velocity round that was still lodged in it, just feet behind Jonas’ head.
Jonas ducked and then brought his gun up to take his shot at Julian. Burns called out. Ty covered his head with both hands and spun out of the way, and Burns realized that Julian had grabbed him and shoved him, drawing a hidden gun from the small of Ty’s back. He dove to the side as he fired. The boom of the Glock overpowered the dull thuds of the silencer.
Burns could do nothing but cover his head. Everyone scrambled for cover.
“Jesus fucking Christ!” Ty cried as soon as the shooting hit a lull. “You prick! You shot me!”
“I couldn’t possibly have shot you from this angle,” Julian murmured from where he hunched behind an arm of the same sofa Jonas was using as cover.
“Ty?” Burns called out.
Another sniper round hit the window, close enough to the first bullet to crack the glass more. Eventually the sniper would get through.
Jonas lunged to his feet and sprayed a volley of bullets at the corner where Julian had taken cover. Burns scrambled for the weapon he had discarded, diving to the floor and rolling as he brought the gun up. Jonas had the gun trained on Julian, who had run out of bullets and was on his knees, hands held high. Burns raised his gun to fire, but his finger had barely brushed the trigger when Ty rammed Jonas from behind.
Jonas’ gun went off, spraying ceiling plaster everywhere. They landed hard, Ty’s bulk knocking the air from Jonas as he skidded facefirst across the plush carpeting. Ty rammed an elbow into Jonas’ back to keep him down.
Burns pushed to his feet and aimed his gun at Jonas. “Ty! Get him out of here!”
Ty hesitated, looking from Burns to Jonas.
“He’s not safe until he’s at Langley!” Burns growled, jerking his head toward Cross. “Go!”
Ty rolled and struggled to his feet, holding a bloody hand to his side. Julian took his elbow, both of them staggering toward the door.
“Richard,” Jonas groaned as he pushed off the floor. “You don’t know what you’re doing, Richard. Don’t let them get away!”
“Shut up,” Burns gritted out as Ty and Julian fled from the office.
Jonas met his eyes, his body tensing. Burns looked into the depths, reliving every moment he’d known Randall Jonas, from boot camp to the morning he’d pulled Burns out of a fire in the jungle to the day he’d been a groomsman at his wedding.
“I trusted you.”
Jonas twisted to look up at him. Burns tightened his hold on his gun, hand trembling as the betrayal sank in.
Jonas gave a derogatory snort and met Burns’ eyes. “That just made you easy to use.”

“He had the upper hand,” Julian said, grabbing Ty’s elbow to pull him along. Ty hesitated, but when they saw agents flooding the hallways, he turned and ran with Julian to the emergency stairwell.

They stormed down the steps, every bang and clang of the stairwell putting Julian’s teeth on edge.
“It’s brilliant, really,” he gasped out. “Send unsuspecting errand boys to do the dirty work. It’s his signature.”
“I don’t fucking believe this,” Ty muttered. “Does this mean me and Zane were the bad guys?”
“I believe so, yes.”
“Son of a bitch!”
They hit the ground floor level, and Ty pushed through the door into the lobby. Sirens were going off; the entire federal building was mobilizing. Ty flashed his badge at a security guard who tried to stop them. When the guard stepped in front of them, unwilling to let them leave, Ty grabbed him by the hand, twisted it, and turned into his body, dropping the beefy guard with a move as graceful as a ballerina.
They darted past as other guards came after them.
“Zane is gonna kill me,” Ty said as they burst through the doors and sprinted down the street into the sparse crowds of tourists.
“He’s not the only one!” Julian shouted as they darted between people and across the street. “We have a sniper to worry about now as well.”

Z ANE sat with Cameron at the café they’d designated as the rendezvous. He despised being left behind, but Ty had given a convincing argument that he and Julian would be able to slip through better just the two of them. They were also hoping, on some level, that Zane would serve as a decoy for anyone watching the building waiting for Cross to show up. He had walked up and down the sidewalk several times, hoping to draw attention, as Ty and Julian had slipped inside in a flower delivery van.

When he caught sight of two men running down the street, Zane sat forward and tensed, barely keeping himself from reaching for his gun.

When they got closer, he saw that it was Ty and Julian. “Uh-oh.” “What?” Cameron asked as he peered into the crowd. “Looks like something went wrong.”
“We have to move,” Ty gasped as soon as they reached Zane and

Cameron. From the looks of them, they had both sprinted there. “What happened?”
“It was Jonas.”
“Who?
“Jonas, he was the guy.”
“I don’t know who that is.”
“He’s CIA, he had Burns pull us in, but he only wanted Cross to

kill him,” Ty stuttered.
“Ty, breathe.”
Ty shook his head, gulping air and holding to his side. Blood

seeped through the material of his T-shirt.
“There’s a sniper on a roof somewhere. We don’t know whose
side he’s on, and we need to get out of sight,” Julian said, rapid-fire and
barely discernible with his thick accent.
Zane and Cameron moved, grabbing their last remaining bag of
gear, Zane leading the way. There was nowhere to go that they would
be able to hide. But they could duck into a restaurant or museum and be
out of the sniper’s sights. They headed for the massive complex of the
Verizon Center, and Zane darted into The Greene Turtle as the others
followed. Cameron was gasping for breath after the sprint, and Ty was
leaning against the railing of the curving staircase that led down to the
restaurant’s basement, panting and holding his side.
“Can I… help you?” the hostess asked them.
“Table for four, please,” Cameron said, breathless, holding up
four fingers. “Away from the windows, if that’s possible.” “Of course,” she said, looking at them askance as she grabbed
menus.
Zane took Ty’s arm and began to lead him down the stairs. Julian
followed, dragging Cameron with him as he explained to the waitress
that they’d be right back. They didn’t want her growing suspicious
enough to call the police on them, but Zane doubted Cameron’s
attempts had helped their cause.
The basement of the restaurant had two oddly situated bathrooms
and a wide open space used for parties and probably hiding Jimmy
Hoffa. They tumbled into that dark, cavernous space and collapsed
against whatever was nearest them.
“You’ve been hit,” Zane said to Ty as he knelt next to where Ty
had sunk against a wall.
“It grazed me. It’s not bad.” He met Zane’s eyes. “It’s not bad.” Zane looked at him worriedly, then glanced at Julian. “It wasn’t me,” Julian snapped, the heat in his voice aimed at Ty. “You shot from under my arm!”
“There is no possible way I hit you from that angle! It was a
ricochet!”
“You want to go over the laws of physics?”
“If I was going to shoot you, I would have shot you somewhere
more memorable!”
“Okay!” Zane shouted, putting both hands out to calm them. Ty grunted at him and pressed his hand to his side, glaring at
Julian.
Cameron hugged close to him, and Julian pulled him in and rested
his chin on Cameron’s head, closing his eyes as they embraced. “I’m afraid I’m out of ideas,” Julian whispered.
Zane looked back at Ty. He shook his head, unable to meet
Zane’s eyes. “Burns said to get him to Langley.”
“That won’t be happening,” a new voice said from the doorway. All Zane could see was the outline of a man, a long-barreled rifle
slung over his shoulder. As he watched, the man pulled the rifle down
and aimed it at him and Ty.
“PRESTON!” Cameron called out in obvious relief.
When Ty scrambled to his feet, he found himself facing the matte
black muzzle of a sniper’s rifle. His heart stuttered and his body
flooded with ice.
The muzzle lowered to reveal its owner as the man stepped into
the pool of an emergency light, and Ty stared at the blond man in
shock.
“Thank Christ. Preston, what took you so long?” Julian grumbled
as he rushed forward.
“Terribly sorry, sir,” Preston drawled, smirking as he glanced
around and met Ty’s eyes. “Hello, Tyler.”
Ty couldn’t find his voice through the surprise.
Cameron glanced between them. “You two know each other?” “We’re acquainted,” Preston answered as he hiked the rifle onto
his shoulder.
“Do tell,” Zane said as he stood next to Ty. “Who the hell are
you?”
Preston raised one eyebrow at Zane but didn’t answer him,
instead meeting Ty’s eyes and giving him an enigmatic smile. “He’s Preston, Julian’s driver,” Cameron said.
“Driver,” Zane said, voice wry. “Do you sell antiques too?” “No, I kill people.”
“Preston!” Cameron said, appalled. “I thought you were staying
in Chicago.”
“I had other business to attend to.”
Ty finally found his voice, though he was still staring back at the
man as if he’d risen from the dead. “He was… French. You were
French,” he said accusingly.
Preston shrugged. “So were you. We both got what we were
after.”
“This is the guy from Paris that Burns thinks is Cross?” Zane
said, pointing at Preston. “So this is the guy all this has been about?” “No, dear, please keep up,” Preston said with a curl of his lip. Ty stood there, shaking his head, mind churning to connect the
pieces.
Preston turned to Julian. “Smith and Wesson are in your car, sir.
Ready when you are.”
“What about my dogs?”
“With your ladyfriend from the restaurant.”
Cameron looked crestfallen, but Ty was too distracted by
Preston’s sudden appearance to feel sorry for him.
“Grady and Preston were both after the same mark in Paris a few
years ago,” Julian said to Zane. “They met during what I hear was a
drunken, debauched night of… selling antiques. That’s how I knew Ty
had been there. I never saw him.”
“Such unnecessary details,” Preston murmured.
“Ty, seriously,” Zane grunted.
“How is this my fault?” Ty asked in exasperation.
“Do you have a history with every guy with a gun in the Northern
hemisphere?”
“Oh, like you don’t have some winners back there you hope we
never run into. Let’s head to Miami and see what comes out of the
woodwork.”
“Ty.”
“I like guys with guns!”
“Oh my God,” Julian muttered as he rubbed at his eyes. Zane crossed his arms over his chest and gave Ty a look that said
they’d be discussing this later. Ty rolled his eyes and pointed at
Preston. “Why are you here?”
“We learned that you were delivering Mr. Cross to the very man
who wantshim dead. I’m here to kill you and rescue him.” “You’re a bit late for that,” Julian muttered.
“Bulletproof glass, or I would have been right on time.” “Fair enough.”
Zane put a hand out and looked from Julian to Ty. “So wait a
minute… we’re the bad guys?”
“Sucks, right?” Ty muttered.
Zane huffed. “If we’re the bad guys, that means the CIA isn’t
trying to kill Cross. They’ve been trying to save him from us!” Julian and Ty stared at him, then glanced at each other
uncomfortably.
“This is stupid,” Cameron muttered as he rubbed his hands over
his face. “I can’t believe this is real life.”
Ty shook his head.
“If the CIA and Preston and whoever else are trying to save him
and not kill him, why don’t we just drive him up to Langley and this is
all over?” Zane said, sounding almost excited.
Julian shook his head. “Please. If you deliver me to them, my life
is over. Whether I’m alive or dead, they will own me again.” Ty met the Irishman’s eyes, a pang of familiarity running through
him. He knew what that claustrophobic fear felt like. No one deserved
to be pressed into service.
“Can’t we just… disappear?” Cameron asked.
They all looked at him with the same mixture of sadness and
contempt. There was no disappearing if you had something the CIA
wanted.
“If someone doesn’t go in to clear all this up, they will never stop
following you, Cam,” Zane said. He looked at Julian. “You know that.” “That’s why I’m here,” Preston said, stoic as ever.
“No,” Julian said immediately.
“There’s really nothing to argue over, sir.”
“What?” Cameron asked.
“Preston intends to turn himself into the CIA in my stead.” “What? Why does it have to be one of us?” Cameron asked, a
little plaintive.
“The only solution is to give them Julian Cross,” Ty murmured.
“Or run for the rest of your lives. And Preston is in their books as
Julian Cross. Am I right? The two of you shared duties under one
codename?”
Preston nodded.
“No wonder they thought you were Batman. You were two
people.”
“Antiques dealers don’t play fair,” Julian muttered, voice low and
wry.
“This is not a difficult decision, gentlemen,” Preston told them,
voice devoid of emotion. He handed his rifle to Julian, who took it
without question. Then he turned to Ty.
“Wait,” Julian pleaded, a rare show of emotion playing across his
face as he stepped between them. “Preston, please.”
“Sir, I really must insist that you not make this difficult,” Preston
whispered.
“Oh, Preston,” Cameron murmured, pain in his voice. Julian was silent, the two old companions sharing a moment of
understanding before Julian wrapped the blond man in a tight hug.
Then he hung his head and stalked away like a wounded lion pacing in
a cage, unable to meet Preston’s eyes. Preston held his hands up to Ty
to be handcuffed.
“Put your hands down,” Ty said in a hoarse voice, inexplicably
touched by the show of loyalty between the two. They had obviously
been partners for many years, and Preston was essentially giving up his
freedom for Julian. Sure, he wasn’t going to be imprisoned, but he
would be under the thumb of his former employer all the same, unable
to live the life he could otherwise. Most importantly, he was giving up
ever seeing Julian again, because as soon as they did this, Cameron
Jacobs and the man known as Julian Cross would disappear. It was enough to earn Ty’s respect.
Ty glanced at Zane. “The CIA knows what Cross looks like,” he
said in a measured voice as his eyes traveled down Zane’s body.
“Walking Preston in there won’t work. We need to give them what
they’re looking for or we won’t even make it through the door.” Zane tipped his head to one side, met Ty’s gaze when it returned
to his face, and then, with a twitch of his lips, nodded. “Yeah. Sure,
that’ll be fun, actually.”
“What? What will be fun?” Cameron asked.
“Special Agent Preston and I are going to turn ‘Cross’ in to the
CIA,” Ty drawled with a growing smirk as he nodded to Zane. Cameron’s jaw dropped as he looked between Julian and Zane,
obviously remembering that he was the one who originally said they
looked so much alike. “Isn’t that going to be dangerous?”
Julian nodded grimly. “That’s why they’re all grinning like idiots.
Lucky bastards.”
Zane smiled and flipped the gun around in his hand to hold the
barrel and offer it to Preston. “Special Agent Preston, your companyissue firearm.”
“It does have a certain ring to it,” Preston murmured as he took
the weapon. “All right, lads, say your good-byes,” he urged as he
headed for the door, obviously not intending to say his own. “Zane,” Cameron said, stepping over to touch his elbow. “Thank
you.”
Zane patted his hand and glanced at Julian. “Keep him on a leash,
would you?”
“Yeah,” Cameron whispered.
Julian looked between them and nodded, his jaw tightening. He
stepped forward and held out his hand to Zane. “Agent Garrett. It’s not
easy to earn my respect. Well done.”
With a nod, Zane shook his hand. “It’s not often people like us
get a second chance. Enjoy it.”
Julian nodded tightly, and his eyes shifted to Ty. He held out his
hand, and Ty didn’t hesitate to reach out and take it. “Take it easy,
Killer.”
“Agent Grady,” Julian said solemnly. “If the world didn’t have
sharks, we couldn’t have kittens either.”
“What?” Cameron asked.
“That doesn’t even make any sense,” Zane muttered. “Yeah, it does,” Ty said, meeting Julian’s eyes and nodding. “They don’t even exist in remotely similar ecosystems,” Cameron
said.
Julian smirked and let go of Ty’s hand. “You are far too literal,”
he told Cameron as he wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “Take care of yourself, Ty,” Cameron said, voice wavering as
Julian led him further into the darkness of the large basement room. Zane turned back to Ty, then stepped close enough to cup his
cheek and kiss him thoroughly. Ty closed his eyes as Zane curled his
other arm around him and pulled him close, and let himself get lost in
it. He didn’t care if Zane was staking out his territory like a stray dog.
After today they might be spending quite a lot of time in jail; it might
be his last chance to be staked out.
When Zane finally pulled away, leaving Ty wavering, Preston
offered a low whistle.
Zane ignored him as he reached up to touch the compass rose, his
fingertips lightly brushing Ty’s skin as well. “In case we’re wrong and
I get shot on sight.”
Ty shook his head. “Won’t happen.”
They looked to where Julian and Cameron had been, only to find
them both gone.
Ty and Zane shared a glance and shrugged. Their prisoners had
finally escaped. Zane held the cuffs out to Ty with a smile. “Ready to
go fuck with the Agency?”
A cold ball of determination settled in the pit of Ty’s stomach. He
took the handcuffs and grinned wolfishly. “They messed with the
wrong Feebs this time.”