"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 G.o.d," 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 gla.s.s, 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 hoa.r.s.e 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 b.a.s.t.a.r.ds."

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 bas.e.m.e.nt 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 compa.s.s 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 f.u.c.k 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."

Chapter 17.

THEYdidn't even make it past the gate guard at Langley. "You're not expected," the man said as he examined Ty's FBI credentials.

Ty pointed to the camera over the man's shoulder. "Give the face recognition software some time. We'll wait." He pointed at his face and smiled as he looked into the camera; then he reached over and took Zane's head, yanking him sideways so the camera could see him as well.

Two minutes later, the guardhouse was surrounded.

They were escorted through the lobby, past the wall with no names, to an innocuous conference room where three men sat waiting for them.

They stood when Ty, Zane, and Preston were shoved into the room.

"Gentlemen."

"You're the big kahuna?" Ty asked as he kept a tight grip on Zane's elbow. They had handcuffed Zane behind his back and frogmarched him into Langley like a criminal. Ty had enjoyed it a little too much.

"What is the purpose of this?" the man asked. His face was thin and sallow, and he had snow-white hair that seemed to stand on end. His suit probably cost more than Ty's whole wardrobe, and Ty didn't buy cheap. He was flanked by two younger men, Agent X and Agent Y, the former looking tired and amused, wearing a canvas jacket and jeans, the latter wearing thick-rimmed hipster gla.s.ses and a tie that was way too thin to be company issue.

"We heard you were looking for Julian Cross," Preston said, voice devoid of an accent.

"This is not Julian Cross," Agent X said in a low voice.

"We figured the beard was enough of a threat to national security to bring him in," Ty said as he waved a hand at Zane's face.

Zane turned his head and glared at him.

"Release this man, please," the Big Kahuna said, and Agent Y stood to walk over to them. He unlocked Zane's hands and stepped back, looking at all three of them with narrowed eyes.

"This is Zane Garrett," the agent said as he turned to look at his superior.

"What?" Ty said as he turned to look at Zane. Zane was trying not to grin as Ty dragged his gaze up and down him. "Wow, he does kind of look like him." He poked Zane's stomach. "Say something Irish."

"Irish I was at home," Zane said, managing not to smile.

The Big Kahuna stood and smoothed his hand down his tie. "Mr. Cross, we're pleased you came in. Randall Jonas has been a thorn in our side for a long while." He was looking at Preston.

"I can't say I'm pleased to be here," Preston murmured.

Agent Y looked from Ty to Zane to Preston. "Sir, this is not Julian Cross."

"Yes, he is," Agent X said with a smile.

"What of Randall Jonas?" Preston asked.

"He was shot while trying to escape."

"Shot?" Ty said in surprise.

"The investigation has already concluded."

Ty blinked at him, not able to really process that information.

The Big Kahuna smiled and waved a hand at Agent X. "Take these men into custody. Let them see what it is to be on the wrong side of the Company."

TY SAT in a white-and-chrome padded room, his legs shackled to a table, his hands chained together to a ring on the tabletop. The jumpsuit he wore had no markings, b.u.t.tons, or zippers. Not even a tag. He was wearing shoes with no socks, and nothing under the jumpsuit. They'd taken everything from him, even the compa.s.s rose pendant Zane had given him.

He stared at his reflection in the mirror, knowing there was someone on the other side. He drummed his fingers on the table, trying to make the rhythm slow and measured to dispel the nerves that zinged through him. He'd been held all night in this observation room, given only water in a Styrofoam cup. When he'd told his guard that the CIA was killing the planet with Styrofoam, the man had left with his cup and never come back.

The door to his room opened with the loud clank of heavy metal, and Ty watched as two men in suits sauntered in and sat opposite him at the table.

"Special Agent Beaumont Tyler Grady, correct? Also known as Tyler Beaumont and... Sam Hill?"

Ty stared at the man, raising one eyebrow. "We meet again," he said, allowing himself a small smirk.

The agent looked up at him, and his partner glanced at him before looking back at Ty.