Touch&Geaux (31 page)

to see him, though; the sun sat right behind him. Behind the

enclosed walls of the cemetery, Zane could see the uneven

structures of tombs and tiny chapels. Stone angels wept. Brick

faltered to the hands of time and unstable earth.

Zane took a moment to steady himself, and then crossed

to the other side of the street. The agent saw him coming and

nodded at him, then turned, following a small tour group into

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the cemetery and breaking off to the right. Ty had told the

FBI contact to meet them in the front of the cemetery.

“He’s heading in. It’s a trap,” Ty said in Zane’s ear.

“Everybody bug out.”

“Negative,” Zane said, and he followed the man into the

cemetery.

“Dammit, Garrett, the others can’t cover you in there!”

Ty shouted.

Zane nodded. He’d spent most of his time undercover

alone; he was more used to taking these types of risks than Ty

was. And he had every confidence that Ty’s sniper rifle would

cover him just fine.

Zane trailed through the maze of tombs, following the

directions Ty whispered in his ear. He headed to the back

where Ty said the Protestant section would be. It was a grassy

area, devoid of vaults and mostly clear. It took Zane many

twists and turns, and several dead ends with Ty’s voice in his

ear telling him which way to go, before he found it.

The agent was sitting on an iron bench, waiting for him.

He was possibly the most Federal-looking FBI agent Zane

had ever seen: black suit, loafers, sunglasses, and a thick black

tie. He’d unbuttoned his jacket and his shoulder holster was

partially visible, and his pants leg rode up to reveal his backup

holster and weapon. A field agent he was not.

Zane sighed and stepped out of the row of tombs he’d cut

through. The man straightened when he caught sight of Zane,

and he stood, buttoning his jacket.

“Special Agent Howard?” Zane asked.

“That’s right. Are you Garrett?”

Zane nodded.

“Where’s your CI?”

“My CI?”

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“You said you were bringing in a CI. A Tyler Beaumont.”

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, he’s the one with that little red dot on

your chest,” Zane said, pointing to Howard’s tie.

Howard looked down and jerked when he saw the laser

sight dancing on his tie. His eyes were wide and scared when

they met Zane’s. He reached for his gun, but his buttoned

suit impeded him, so he brought his wrist to his mouth and

ducked, as if that would save him from Ty’s sniper rifle.

“They’re onto us! They came armed!” he shouted to

whoever was on the other end of his radio.

Zane cursed and turned to duck behind the nearest row

of tombs. The telltale pops of a suppressed weapon echoed

in the humidity. Marble chips flew as the rounds hit next to

Zane’s head. He ducked and weaved left, covering his head. He

could hear the others in his ear bud. None of them sounded

panicked. In fact, Ty’s voice came over the frequency as calm

as if he were ordering a sandwich at the local deli. Zane had

heard more emotion from Ty as he watched a football game.

“Got five going over the northeast wal ,” Ty said in Zane’s

ear. “Which one’s northeast?” Owen shouted.

“Not yours. Garrett’s hemmed in.”

“Aye aye, we’re going in,” Nick growled. More suppressed

pops came from the wal , followed by the boom of Nick’s

weapon.

“Five more through the main entrance,” Ty murmured.

“These aren’t locals. Get out.”

Shots fired from the roof. Zane peered around the tomb

to see Special Agent Howard scrabbling for cover. Bullets hit

at his feet, kicking up earth and grass, making him dance back

and forth. Ty was playing with him, pinning him down.

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Tourists screamed in the distance. Horses whinnied.

Sirens began to blare from the traffic station down the street.

Zane lunged from his hiding spot and ran low, angling toward

Howard, where he was trapped in the open by Ty’s covering

fire. A bullet whizzed past his arm, so close it burned.

“Shit. Sorry,” Ty said in his ear.

“Watch it!” Zane snarled. He reached Howard and

grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, jerking him to his feet

and pul ing him toward the tombs. He saw Nick and Kelly

scaling the gate on the back wal .

When he reached cover, Zane slammed Howard to the

ground and held his gun to the man’s nose. He patted him

down, taking all his weapons, his badge, and his car keys.

“Six, you got cops on your position in three,” Nick

shouted.

Ty ignored the warning and fired more shots. Someone in

the cemetery screamed.

“Two down. And a half. Seven live. Get your asses out

of there!” Ty ordered. “Garrett, quit dancing with him and

move!”

Zane didn’t release the man, instead gripping him hard by

his col ar and forcing him along with him.

“It’s too hot up here, I’m gone,” Ty said. “Clear out!”

Shots continued to echo through the cemetery, but the

sniper rifle fell silent.

Zane craned his head to look up at the roof as he dragged

Howard through the maze of vaults and tombs. Ty had finally

abandoned his post, but Zane didn’t know how he planned

to get out of that building now that all hell had broken loose.

There was more gunfire from the back of the cemetery.

Zane couldn’t tell if Sidewinder was chasing the unfriendlies

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or if they were now being chased. Agent Howard fell to his

knees, whimpering and tugging at Zane’s hand.

“Get up!” Zane shouted. He yanked him hard, slamming

him against the crumbling exposed brick of an ancient vault.

He shoved his gun under Howard’s chin. “Who’d you cal ?”

Howard began blubbering. Zane could barely make out

his words. He yanked the ear bud from his ear to be rid of

the chatter and shoved the gun harder against Howard’s neck.

“Shut your damn mouth.”

Howard’s sniveling cut off with a gulp. “Please don’t kill

me,” he whispered. “I have a family.”

Zane bared his teeth. “I don’t care. Who did you cal ?”

“Police commander. Gaudet.”

“This isn’t cop firepower; who else is involved?”

“He—he said he had help. Someone new in town.”

“Names.”

Howard jerked his head from side to side. He was

trembling. “Spanish. I don’t know.”

“Colombian?”

“I don’t know! Please God, don’t hurt me.”

Zane released him. He peered over the vault. The gunfire

continued. He stuck the ear bud back in, only to be greeted by

garbled shouts and echoes of shots.

He stepped away from Howard and pointed the gun at

the man’s leg.

“Oh, God no!”

“This is your final lesson in loyalty,” Zane growled. He put

a bullet in the man’s kneecap and darted away.

“Where the hell did they get all this firepower?” Nick

shouted as he and Kelly ducked behind a large marble vault.

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Bullets thwapped into the ground around them, ricocheting

off marble and stone. Nick’s face was bleeding and he could

feel a shard of something stuck just below his eye. His

sunglasses had probably saved his vision.

“Not cops!” Ty yelled through the static in Nick’s ear. He

was breathing hard, probably running.

“Cartel hitters,” Zane hissed. “Howard said Gaudet called

them in.”

“So wait, the cartel and the cops are working together?”

Owen asked. “How’s that fair?”

“Does it matter?” Kelly shouted. “Sound the retreat, baby,

let’s get our happy asses out of here!” He reached to Nick’s

face and yanked the piece of shrapnel out. Nick cussed him

up and down and held his hand to the wound.

Owen’s voice came through. “Six?”

Ty’s response was barely audible.

“Rabbit hole,” Kelly muttered at Nick’s side. He was

reloading his gun, crouched as low as he could get. If Ty’d

gone down the rabbit hole, there was no one to offer cover

fire.“Get the hell out of here,” Zane ordered. “Everybody out!”

“Should’ve put a guard on the roost,” Digger said.

“Goddamn you Liam Bell!”

Nick couldn’t make out where any of the others were.

They’d been outnumbered and overpowered, chased into the

maze of tombs within the cemetery. It encompassed an entire

block, filled with crumbling sidewalks, winding alleyways too

small to fit a grown man through, and towering stonework

that abruptly cut off pathways and created kill boxes with no

escape. Without Ty in the sniper’s roost to cover them or give

them enemy positions, they were in the dark.

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“I’m almost at the front entrance,” Zane said on the ear

bud. “Make your way here, I’ll cover you.”

Nick patted Kelly’s knee, pointing toward the direction

of the main entrance. Kelly nodded and they both darted off

down the closest lane.

Shots chased them.

“Free drinks! Fireworks!” Ty shouted at the top of his

lungs. His signal was stronger, meaning he’d escaped the

Basin Street building somehow. Nick snorted. Ty and the

cockroaches. He could imagine him running into a crowd of

Easter Sunday churchgoers, tourists, and parade marchers,

trying to create a distraction and lure people out of harm’s

way. “Free drinks inside!”

Out of the corner of his eye, Nick saw a man climb on top

of a touring van parked on a side street. He crouched on the

roof and tossed something into the cemetery. An earsplitting

boom and a flash followed. As he and Kelly darted between

tombs and dodged bullets and shrapnel, Nick got a closer

look at the man. Liam Bell.

“Oh shit,” he hissed.

“Is he on our side?” Kelly called.

“I don’t care! Run!”

Smoke began to billow from the back of the cemetery.

Liam tossed two more canisters, closer to their own position.

Nick and Kelly skidded to a stop. Nick covered his ears and

squeezed his eyes closed as the flashbangs went off.

They wasted precious seconds trying to shake off the

concussive blast. Nick could hear screams of pain and anger.

He peeked around the corner of the tomb that shielded them,

only to come face-to-face with a man who was doing the same

thing. Nick rolled away as the man brought his gun up and

fired.

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“Go!” he yelled, pushing at Kelly’s arm.

They sprinted down the lane, catching glimpses through

the narrow alleys of two men racing down the opposite lane.

When they reached a widened intersection, Nick raised his

weapon, preparing to fire as their pursuers rounded the corner.

But Zane was there, flattened against the tomb wal ,

knives in his hands. When the two assassins reached the

corner of the tomb, he stepped out and swept a hand across

one man’s neck. Blood spurted as Zane turned gracefully and

shoved a knife into the other man’s side. He jerked it up, under

the body armor, under the ribs. He stepped back, covered in

blood as both men fell to the ground, dead or dying.

Nick and Kelly gaped at him as he twirled both knives

over his fingers and shoved them back into their sheaths.

“Nice,” Kelly grunted.

Zane shrugged and bent to gather the weapons off the

dead bodies. He pointed toward the entrance, a mere ten

yards away.

Nick and Kelly stayed low and close, watching each

other’s backs as Zane brought up the rear, scurrying from

tomb to tomb for cover. Owen and Digger appeared from

the other side. The smoke bombs Liam had thrown seemed to

have bought them enough time to clear the cemetery. Owen

and Digger darted out, then took up posts behind the walls to

cover their last few yards.

Nick was almost to the open gate when something

thumped into him from behind. The report of the shot

reached his ears a split-second later. He was thrown forward.

More bullets hit the walls around him.

“He’s hit, he’s hit!” Owen cried, the voice coming both

from nearby and inside Nick’s ear. “Doc!”

“Who’s hit?” Ty asked, voice suddenly panicked.

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No one answered him.

Nick pushed at the ground, but the weight on top of him

was too much. He turned his head. Kelly had fallen into him

when the bullet hit. Owen fell to his knees beside Nick’s face.

They lifted Kelly off him and Nick pushed up, scrabbling the

rest of the way out of the cemetery.

They hit open ground and ran, rushing into traffic on

Rampart Street. Nick and Zane fell back to cover them as

Owen and Digger carried Kelly between them. They faltered

in the large grassy median and took cover behind a horse and

carriage that had been abandoned by its driver.

Crowds of people were running to and fro, panicked and

confused.

“Who’s hit?” Ty demanded, his voice breaking.

“We’re in the median,” Zane said, breathless. “Kelly’s

down.”

“Doc,” Digger said as he put a hand on Kelly’s face.