“A skewer,” Julian said in a surprised voice.
“A what?” Ty asked.
“Chess. A skewer is a chess move. Use their strength against them. Their queen is opposite our rook. They’re supported by their knight, and we only have a pawn. But if their queen takes our rook, our pawn takes their queen.”
“I’m sorry, was that English?” Ty asked in exasperation.
Zane looked up at the mirror to see Julian again. He was a fascinating person once he opened up enough to allow them insight into his mind. Zane was glad he was on their side now.
“I’m agreeing with you, you wanker,” Julian snapped.
“Well, stop, it’s weird.”
Julian grunted and sat back with his arms crossed over his chest.
“I have no idea how to play chess,” Ty said in a flat voice. Zane glanced at his partner. Talk about fascinating, though, Zane didn’t have to go further than Ty. Zane would never get tired of watching the way Ty’s mind worked. “But yeah, I guess, that’s exactly what I’m talking about. We need a pawn.”
“A rook.”
“Whatever!”
“You want to make a phone call to someone and make the Agency think we’re heading there for help,” Zane surmised, voice grim.
“Basically. Yeah.”
“And where would we go instead? To DC?” Cameron asked.
Ty nodded, remaining silent as the sound of the tires on asphalt seeped into the quiet car.
“It’s sound, in theory,” Julian said with a frown.
“Who would you call? I mean….” Cameron trailed off, sounding troubled. “Whoever you call will be in just as much danger as we are.”
Ty was still looking into Zane’s eyes. Zane nodded, knowing exactly what his partner was thinking.
“I know a few guys who can handle themselves.”
Zane waited a breath. He knew Ty was talking about his Recon team. And probably Nick f**king O’Flaherty.
“Call one of them.”
JULIAN sat in the backseat of the stolen CIA Tahoe, watching Ty as he made the call. He was surprised when Ty spoke in French. He was quite fluent, even using a convincing accent. He sounded almost like a native speaker.
Julian blinked at him in shock, looking at the two men in the front seat to see if either of them was surprised. Cameron glanced back, but he didn’t seem to comprehend anything other than it was a foreign language and it was far too dainty for a man like Ty to speak. Zane glanced up, eyes on Ty more than the road.
Julian had known Ty could speak French. He hadn’t seen him in Paris like he’d led them to believe, but he knew from a reliable source that he had indeed been there. It was still a shock to hear him speak it. Julian knew enough of the language to decipher that Ty was basically telling the other man, “We’re in trouble, we’re coming to you to lay low.”
Ty switched the phone from one ear to the other, clearing his throat. He spoke in English. “And Digger? Make sure you have coconuts when we get there, okay? Lots of them.”
Julian could hear the tinny voice on the phone responding, and then Ty ended the call. He glanced at Julian and narrowed his eyes as he rolled down the window. The frigid wind whipped through the car, ruffling Julian’s hair, tugging at his coat. Ty tossed the phone out the window and rolled it back up.
Julian stared at him, and Ty ignored him like only children and felines were typically capable of doing.
“Coconuts?”
“It’s… Monty Python. Coconuts were the fake horse. It’ll make sense to him.”
“Right.”
“I was telling him it was a ruse.”
“Got it.”
“Where to?” Zane asked in a solemn voice. The heavy sense of impending doom hung over them, making everything sedate and surreal.
Ty shook his head. “I feel like I just threw one of my best friends under a bus.”
“You said the bayou would handle it, right?”
“Yeah,” Ty whispered.
Julian looked between them. For the first time, the two FBI agents were beginning to take on an air of defeat. He had formed a grudging respect for both men, and he wasn’t so blind that he couldn’t see what they’d done. They could easily have handed him and Cameron over when they realized they were being followed and were outgunned. They had no vested interest in getting Julian to DC, other than they had orders. They were fighting and running and risking their lives simply because Julian and Cameron now needed their help. There was no other reason for it.
“I might know someone who can help us get to DC,” he said after a few more moments of silence to ponder it.
He saw Zane’s dark eyes looking at him in the mirror, and Ty was looking at him as well, messing around with his belt as if something was jabbing him.
“He retired several years ago, bought a… an antique store in Gettysburg.”
“A real antique store, or the kind that can help us?” Ty asked.
“A real one, unfortunately. But I believe he could still help us. He flew biplanes, it was his hobby. He would loan us one for a price.”
“Loan us one?” Zane asked as he kept his eyes on the road.
“A biplane? What are we supposed to do, duct tape ourselves to the wings all the way to DC?” Ty grunted. “I’m not a f**king Wright brother, okay?”
“Well, no, but this will all be over when I get to DC. Two of us could go, the other stay with Cameron.”
“Can you fly a plane?” Ty asked with an incredulous glance at Julian.
“No. I was hoping you could.”
“Do I look like I can fly a plane?” Ty snapped, getting more irritable the more he messed with his ribcage.
Julian pursed his lips as he looked at Ty. “I just assumed, since you enjoyed the TSA so much.”
“Okay, let’s stop right there,” Zane said hastily.
“Julian, would your friend be able to find a bigger plane for us? One he could fly?” Cameron asked as he turned in his seat.
Julian shrugged. “We could ask him.”
“Yes. Let’s go ask him,” Ty muttered. “That’s f**king stupid.”
“Fine,” Julian said, his tone making it clear he was reaching the end of his patience. “We’ll solve this like men.”
“What do you want, MacGuffin, a duel?”
“No.” Julian held out both hands, one palm flat, the other held over it in a fist. “Rock, paper, scissors. Two out of three.”
Ty rolled his eyes and held out his fist, apparently willing to play. Julian hit his palm three times, and Ty kept time with his fist in the air. But when Julian threw a paper, Ty reached into his jacket with his other hand and pulled his gun, aiming it at Julian.