Fish & Chips (3 page)

“We look like them,” Ty reiterated flatly.

“Vaguely,” McCoy agreed. “Same build, mostly. Zane"s coloring.”

Ty glared at the man. “I"m not following,” he said slowly. “You want us to assume their identities? How"s that gonna work?” he asked.

“Corbin and Del Porter were booked to leave on that cruise tomorrow,” McCoy said again. “We have it on good authority they plan to meet several of their buyers and sellers while on this cruise, taking advantage of somewhat lax security and customs and what have you in the Caribbean. And since this will be the first instance of the two of them ever showing themselves physically in their business dealings, their contacts only have virtual interactions to go on. They won"t know you"re imposters. We can get a lot of information out of this if you two take their places and play your cards right.”

“I"m not sure I like the sound of this,” Zane said. “We"ve not got word one on the case until today, and now we"re supposed to impersonate these guys?”

“You"ll be given a crash course. And you"re both professional bullshit artists; you"re perfect for it,” McCoy replied carelessly. Zane frowned at him.

Ty scratched slowly at his cheek. “Okay,” he said carefully. He still didn"t understand why McCoy seemed to be enjoying the prospect so much. There was a catch coming.

“You leave at nine in the morning. The rest of your team has already been put in place,” McCoy told them as he pushed another stack of files toward the center of the table.

“Our team?” Zane repeated. Ty sighed heavily and closed his eyes. There was the catch.

“You know the drill, Garrett, a team. Team leader, two more field agents, and tech support. Read the files so you don"t end up shooting one of them when you meet them. And Grady, we"ll be needing you to 12 | Madeleine Urban & Abigail Roux

make just a few… alterations… to your appearance before you go,” he said as he studied Ty critically.

“What the hell are you talking about, McCoy? It"s not like he can gain fifty pounds overnight,” Zane said crossly.

“Nothing like that. Some hot wax and a little bleach, and he"ll be set,” McCoy continued, barely keeping himself from laughing now.

“Hot wax?” Ty asked in alarm. He heard Zane stifle a snort.

“Del Porter is what you would call… arm candy,” McCoy drawled with a smirk.

“Oh hell,” Zane muttered, leaning back, rubbing his hand over his face, and shifting in his chair uncomfortably. Ty glanced at him, not following.

“I see that Garrett has figured it out,” McCoy said, his voice nearly bubbly. Ty shook his head in confusion.

“I didn"t mention that?” McCoy asked in feigned innocence as he flipped through his notes as if he needed to check his information.

“Corbin and Del Porter aren"t brothers, gentlemen. They"re lovers.

Legally married, in fact.” He reached out and placed two silver rings on the desk in front of them. “Go ahead and put those on,” he instructed.

Zane went totally still, his eyes locked on the jewelry. Then his chin rose as his gaze shifted to McCoy. “Are you sure this is necessary?” he asked flatly.

Ty very carefully didn"t say anything in response as he stared at the shiny rings. He"d worn a wedding ring before as part of a cover.

But this was different.

“The Porters are a very out gay couple,” McCoy continued, ignoring their reactions to the news. “The fact is well-known to all their contacts. It would be an alarm bell if you weren"t wearing the rings,” he said to Zane. “Corbin is what you"d call the brains of the operation. Del is… pretty.”

Ty still sat motionless, staring at McCoy with a churning in his gut as he realized what they were being thrown into. A very out gay couple amongst people who would expect them to act as such—

including a team of their own people. He slowly reached out and picked Fish & Chips | 13

up one of the rings, turning it over in his hand. It was a simple silver band, flat and wide. He glanced at Zane apprehensively. Zane still wore his own gold wedding ring on his finger. Ty didn"t know how his partner would react to replacing it, even temporarily. But Zane didn"t move a muscle, didn"t even twitch as he stared at the single ring still there in front of McCoy.

“Now understand: this may put you both in a few uncomfortable situations,” McCoy went on sincerely. “But you"ve both got UC

experience, and I"m sure you"d both rather have to kiss each other than be shot at,” he joked. Ty cleared his throat and tried to restrain a smile.

McCoy had no idea how right he was. “Those rings are all we"re going to provide you for this one,” he continued. “We"ve appropriated the bags they"d already packed for their cruise, so you"re set on being clothed and otherwise outfitted. Lucky for us, you two are even roughly the same sizes,” McCoy rambled as he stood. “Everything they needed for the deals they were making is in that luggage. You"ll have to smuggle weapons on board; we"ll come up with some sort of concealment for them in the luggage. The captain and head of security on board have been informed of your involvement, but you are not to break cover even with them unless absolutely necessary. Ty, if you find yourself in the brig, you stay there until they make port. You"ll have the rest of your team there if you get in trouble, but when you make land, you"re shit out of luck.”

McCoy stood at the end of his little speech, looking down at them with a raised eyebrow and a smile. Ty and Zane sat staring at him, their mouths hanging open as they listened.

Dan McCoy had been a good field agent, and he was a good Special Agent in Charge. Ty had even worked on a few cases with him before McCoy had been promoted, and they"d gotten on well—which was probably why McCoy was enjoying this so much and letting it show. Ty sort of wanted to hit him.

“Come with me,” McCoy invited with relish as he swept out the door.

A few moments after he disappeared, Zane stood abruptly with a sniff and straightened his jacket. Ty saw that he was grinding his teeth.

He lowered his head and looked at the ring in his hand, not sure what to 14 | Madeleine Urban & Abigail Roux

do or say about it. He supposed he would just put his on and let Zane work it out himself. He slipped it on his finger discreetly as he stood up. It was a little tight; he had to force it over the knuckle that was still a little swollen from the surgery he"d had to remove a piece of cougar tooth, but once it got on, it fit well. Ty very carefully didn"t give it any extra attention after that.

Zane reached out and plucked up the other ring, closing it into the fist of his right hand before turning on his heel to leave the room. Ty followed them out silently, dreading the hissy fit that would come soon enough.

They followed McCoy down a few floors to an interrogation room and filed into the observation half of one of the suites where an agent, Harry Lassiter, already stood at the glass. Ty and Zane nodded to the man as McCoy pointed through the two-way mirror. “Gentlemen, meet Del Porter.”

The man sitting at the table was handsome, probably about Ty"s height and build, just a little slimmer. He had short, spiky hair bleached an unnatural platinum blond that contrasted oddly with his dark tan. He wore a sleeveless vest that tied with a simple cord of leather at the crest of his ripped chest, and his entire upper body was well-muscled and toned. He was also clean-shaven and completely devoid of body hair.

He looked to Ty like he should be standing under a waterfall in a gay porno.

Zane paused in place, eyes a little wide, looking from Del to Ty to Del and back.

Ty blinked rapidly at the guy. “I"m supposed to be…
him
?” he finally asked in a stricken voice.

“Good thing you"re a hell of an actor,” Zane murmured as he continued comparing them.

Ty glared at him briefly and looked back at the man behind the glass. “I"ll never pull this off,” he said to the other men in the room.

Zane tipped his head to one side, openly appraising Ty"s body. “I don"t know,” he said distractedly. Ty looked back at him hatefully, feeling himself blushing under the scrutiny.

Fish & Chips | 15

“He"s not what I"d call stupid. But he sure as hell isn"t the brightest bulb in the pack,” McCoy informed them. “He knows just enough to keep his mouth shut. But that and the fact that he"s pretty and got himself a rich husband are about all he"s got going for him.”

“Holy fuck, man,” Ty finally muttered. “I"m gonna be this dude for how long?”

“Relax, Grady. You have the easy end of this,” McCoy assured him. “Garrett"s guy is the real brains here, and no one who"s familiar with them will expect you to do anything but lay in the sun and work on your tan. Garrett? In the field, you"re the lead on this one. You"re calling the shots. Grady is just there as scenery and backup.”

Zane snorted as Ty turned to look at McCoy in outrage. Backup?

They were partners; there was no lead and backup!

“Ty, we"ve booked you an appointment at some spa with a name I can"t pronounce,” McCoy went on as he handed Ty a slip of paper.

Ty reached out woodenly and took the certificate. “I"ll get on board with the hair color,” he bargained pleadingly. “You"re seriously gonna make me wax my chest?”

“You see that guy in there?” McCoy countered with a point of his finger at the man in the interrogation room.

Ty swallowed hard. He had done a lot of things he wasn"t proud of in order to assume identities that weren"t his. He"d changed his appearance, changed his behavior, treated decent people horribly to make an impression on a scumbag, prepared crack cocaine for others to smoke, taken lives, and any number of other things he didn"t care to remember. He knew how important a part the smallest thing could play when trying to convince a stranger that you were someone they thought they already knew. He looked down at the silver ring on his finger and back up at the man behind the glass with a heavy sigh.

“There"s a good man,” McCoy said with a pat to Ty"s shoulder.

Ty glanced at Zane as he felt himself blushing slowly. Though Zane"s face was composed, Ty could see the laughter in his eyes.

“I don"t know how they"ll get rid of the tattoo, but they"ve assured me they can,” McCoy added with another pat to Ty"s shoulder.

16 | Madeleine Urban & Abigail Roux

“What?” Ty cried as he looked at McCoy in outrage.

McCoy just smiled at him. “This guy was obviously never a Marine,” he reasoned. “Now, Grady, you get going,” he ordered before Ty could have a meltdown. “You"re getting the works, so you"ll probably be there all fucking day. Garrett, come with me,” McCoy said as he gestured for Zane to follow him. “I"ll introduce you to yourself,”

he said wryly as they headed out the door.

Ty felt the sudden urge to beg Zane not to leave him there. He could feel the raised writing on the slip of thick, cream-colored paper in his hand. He looked down at it, thinking of all the procedures the makeover would entail. Salon Láurie… waxing, tanning, bleaching, manicures, lotions, scented mud….

Del Porter said something suddenly, complaining about being left in the room for so long. Ty turned to look at him in shock. He pointed his finger in outrage and turned to the other agent in the room. “He"s British?” Ty cried.

Special Agent Lassiter, who"d been standing there silently the whole time, covered his mouth with his hand and merely nodded in answer, unable to keep from laughing any longer.

“DO YOU realize what kind of shitfit Grady"s going to have over this when this is all done?” Zane asked McCoy as they walked down the nondescript hallway of holding and interrogation rooms.

“Oh, I"m looking forward to it,” McCoy said with relish. “I want pictures, Garrett. They"ll be great for the newsletter.”

Zane rolled his eyes. “I hope your insurance is up to date,” he said as they stopped at another door. “Grady doesn"t forget people who fuck around with him.”

“He gives as good as he gets,” McCoy said good-naturedly as he opened a door. Zane grunted and walked in.

The man on the other side of the two-way glass was as different from Del Porter as night was from day. And McCoy was right. Zane did have a general resemblance in height, build, and coloring. But Fish & Chips | 17

Corbin Porter was definitely high-class. Or he
thought
he was: finely cut hair slicked back, a ruby stud in one ear, an expensive designer suit with a high-collared shirt rather than a tie, custom cuff links, manicured hands, and Italian leather on his feet. He held himself like a man accustomed to receiving respect, or possibly groveling.

“I didn"t say anything to Grady because I didn"t want to mitigate his horror. You"re going for a haircut and manicure too,” McCoy said with a twist to his lips.

Zane nodded distractedly as he studied Corbin Porter. The man was… arrogant. That was the word Zane was looking for. Arrogant.

And possibly vain as well, but only to the point of knowing he was a fine-looking man.

He was also confident and controlled. He had propped one ankle over the opposite knee as he sat casually at the table, one forearm resting on the edge. He wasn"t fidgeting or twitching. He was simply waiting. What gave him away was the anger sparking in his eyes and the tightness around his mouth.

“Do you want to talk to him?” McCoy asked Zane.

Zane slowly shook his head. “I"ve met his type before.”

“He"s hardly a drug runner or a computer hacker,” McCoy pointed out.

“He"s a thug,” Zane murmured. “He"s dressed up pretty, but he"s still just a thug.”

“Explains the tattoo they"ll be giving you then.”