Armed & Dangerous (Cut & Run 5)

“Agreed,” Julian said in annoyance.

Ty grumbled as he grabbed up his coat and stalked toward the steps that led to the flybridge, where there were more places to sit in the open air. “I need air,” he snarled to the rest of them.

“What exactly is wrong with the way I talk?” Julian asked as he got up and followed him up the steps.

“I hate you and shut up. Why are you following me?”

“Because air is free,” Julian shot back before they slammed the hatch door closed and muffled the rest of their argument.

Quiet reigned for a full minute before Zane started to chuckle, a wry smile on his face. He tipped his head sideways to look at Cameron. “I really do think they enjoy it.”

Cameron shrugged. “I know Julian does.”

“Reminds me of Thanksgiving with my parents,” Nick muttered as he sat at the wheel, still examining the nautical chart he’d been reading when Ty and Julian had started in on each other.

“As long as they both come back intact,” Cameron said, pushing away his coffee cup and standing. “I’m going to take a shower.” He disappeared down the steps

It left Zane acutely aware that he was sitting alone with Nick.

There was silence for a long moment. Even the rustle of the paper had stopped. Finally, Nick turned and looked at Zane over his shoulder. “Ty does love a good nemesis.”

“Ty could start an argument with Gandhi if he put his mind to it.”

“You should have heard him and Sanchez go at it. Four different languages, neither of them ever understood the other. A Latino guy screaming in German and a mountain hick shooting off French back at him.”

Zane snorted.

“Hey, listen…. You said last night that you wanted to understand him better.”

Zane looked up at Nick and nodded.

Nick reached into his jacket and pulled out a CD case. “I dug this up. It’s uh… it’s a bunch of videos we took while we were in service.” He handed it to Zane. “Thought maybe you and Ty could watch it together.”

Zane blinked at him, momentarily stunned by the simple gesture. He recognized it as the peace offering it was. He reached out to take the CD case and looked from it to Nick. “Thank you.”

Nick nodded and then turned his attention back to the charts and navigating the waters toward DC.

“Sidewinder, right? Where’d the name come from?”

“That’s just what they called us. I think it was because no matter what they sent us into, we always managed to slither out of it.”

Zane laughed. Yeah, that sounded like a team Ty would have led. “Did Ty have a call sign?”

“Nah, that’s just pilots,” Nick said after a minute or two. “We had nicknames. They changed every couple months depending on who moved in and out. But Ty was team leader, meant we just called him Six.”

“He didn’t have a nickname?” Zane asked.

“None he’d want me to repeat,” Nick muttered, a smile in his voice. “Just Six.”

“YOU better damn well call me when you’re safe,” Nick told Ty as they stood around Julian, shielding him as he jimmied the lock on a car parked in the parking lot of the public marina where Nick had rented a slip.

“Someone will. Check on Deacon for me, okay?”

“Done.”

“And go home. Don’t stick around and get caught in any blowback.”

“Ty.”

“Promise me, O. You’ll go home.”

Nick huffed but he nodded.

Ty met his eyes for a few seconds. He didn’t look scared. But he didn’t look confident, either, and that made Nick nervous. Ty’s biggest asset was his ability to make those around him think he was bulletproof.

“Are you sure you don’t need another gun?”

Ty shook his head. “This isn’t your fight, O. And if things go bad, we need someone who can tell what went down.”

Nick felt a ball of cold steel settle in his chest. He hated being left on the sidelines, but Ty was right. He nodded, and Ty turned away from him to slide into the car Julian had unlocked. He sat in the driver’s seat and reached between his legs to mess with the wires underneath the steering column, and in a matter of about thirty seconds, Ty had hotwired the car.

Nick waved as they drove off, the old blue Chevy Suburban lumbering through the parking lot and turning out of sight. Nick took a deep breath and tried to settle the nerves that prickled through his chest. Ty could handle himself, and Nick had seen enough of Zane Garrett to have formed a confident opinion of his skills as well. The man was formidable, a good match for Ty. And Julian Cross was a piece of toast that would always drop butter-side up, but Nick wasn’t sure if being lucky would do them much good. Even the luckiest dog in the litter had its bad day.

He was turning to head back to the dock and his boat when he caught sight of a black SUV turning the corner on the other end of the parking lot. The windows were tinted, and there was nothing remarkable about it except for the thick antenna on the roof.

It stopped in the middle of the lane, and Nick stood there and looked at it for a few seconds. The SUV revved its engine, and Nick broke into a sprint for the gate to the dock as the SUV roared down the lane toward him. It hopped the curb and barreled down the sidewalk as Nick reached the gate and shouldered through it. He could hear the doors slamming behind him as he sprinted down the dock, and when he heard the gate give way, he leapt onto his boat and rolled to the deck so he could crawl inside without being open to gunfire.

There was nowhere to run; he would never get the 580 moving in time to escape. All he could do was buy enough time for Ty and the others to make it away cleanly. He scrabbled through storage compartments, tossing life preservers over his shoulder and finally hitting gold. He grabbed it and kissed it, murmuring to it as he scrambled to the galley, where he’d have the most cover.

When two men in dark suits kicked down the heavy oak door in the salon, Nick stood behind the galley partition, aiming a double-barreled shotgun at them.

“Oh, son. You broke down the wrong door today,” he said with sadistic glee before he opened fire.

Chapter 16

BLAKE NICHOLS walked onto the floor of his four-star restaurant and took a deep breath as he headed for the bar, where two men in expensive suits waited.

“Mr. Nichols?” one of them said as he approached them. He reached into his suit and extracted a badge, flipping it open to show Blake his CIA credentials.

“Can I help you?” Blake asked, not reacting to the badge.