Divide & Conquer (2 page)

4 | Madeleine Urban & Abigail Roux

“Don"t be like that,” Ty told him, his voice sounding hurt but carrying the undertone of mischief Zane was well used to.

Zane snorted and shifted under the water as he washed off so he could look at Ty without craning his neck. “You had a thought,” he prompted with a small smile.

“No, you"ll have to work for it now,” Ty responded with another smirk as he turned back to his own stream of water.

Zane rolled his eyes and chucked his wet washcloth over the divider, smiling as he heard the wet splat against Ty"s skin. Ty"s infectious laughter, mingling with the relaxing thrum of the water running through old pipes, rewarded his effort. Zane grinned, letting the little spark of warmth spread through him as he finished rinsing off.

He was reaching to shut off the water when a shrieking alarm pierced the soothing peace of water falling.

“Fire alarm. Time to go,” Ty announced calmly as he turned the water off and grabbed his towel from the far wall of the shower stall.

He didn"t even dry off. He just wrapped the towel around his hips and headed for the exit as if there were nothing unusual about it.

Zane winced as he covered one ear. “Ty!” he called out as he snatched up his towel and hurried after his partner. He grabbed Ty"s arm when he caught up. “You can"t go outside soaking wet and practically naked in the middle of goddamn January!” He started tugging Ty back toward their lockers, where they could at least grab shorts and Tshirts and running shoes.

“Cold is better than on fire,” Ty argued, though he let Zane drag him back.

“There"s no fire down here.”

“You don"t know that.”

“And the exit is twenty yards away,” Zane said as he hurriedly pulled Ty along behind him. “Now get dressed. And shoes.”

“Garrett, when an alarm starts going off, I head for an exit!” Ty shouted unhappily. He wasn"t panicking, of course. Ty never panicked unless he was trapped in the dark or couldn"t find his beloved Bronco in the parking lot. He shucked the towel, pulled on a pair of shorts, and Divide & Conquer | 5

slid his feet into his worn athletic shoes. Then he grabbed Zane"s arm and gave him a tug toward the exit, heedless of Zane trying to get into his shorts.

“Okay, damn, give me
one
second!” Zane exclaimed, grabbing his T-shirt and towel after shoving his feet into his running shoes, resisting Ty"s yanking as he leaned over to snatch up Ty"s T-shirt before letting his partner pull him along.

“Drag your feet later, Lone Star. Either the building"s on fire or it"s a drill and we"ll be doing paperwork until our fingers bleed if we"re not out in time,” Ty insisted as he pulled Zane along the corridor toward the emergency exit. Ty was notoriously flighty and could be easily distracted, but in an emergency, he honed in on one thing and one thing alone: survival. There was no fighting the iron grip he had on Zane"s arm or his insistence that being half-naked and outside was better than any alternative right then.

“I"m thinking we"ll get a little leeway since we were
in the
showers
,” Zane bit off as they thundered up the concrete steps out of the basement and through the emergency door that led outside into the bitter cold and wind.

The morning sun blinded Zane as they pushed through the emergency exit and emerged onto the wet sidewalk in front of the building. The next thing he knew, Ty was ducking in front of him as if taking cover from a projectile, and Zane turned instinctively to check the threat. A shocking slap exploded across his face in a spray of ice water across shower-flushed skin.

Another immediate snap, this one on his upper arm, another on his thigh as something else hit him, and more water splattered across him in the chilled air as he spluttered and wiped his eyes with one hand, striking out with the other at something dark flying toward his face. He felt the brief sensation of rubber on his fingers and then another painful snap like a rubber band, then more water. Zane swung toward movement at his left side. Five heartbeats had passed.

By the time Zane realized he"d just suffered through a barrage of colorful water balloons, Ty was standing again and looking at the rowdy crowd being pushed back behind the snow-dotted barriers on the sidewalk opposite the FBI building. More protesters.

6 | Madeleine Urban & Abigail Roux

Protesters lobbed more water balloons across the street. Ty deftly caught one, cradling it like a football to keep it from popping. He reared back as if preparing to sling it back toward the crowd.

“Grady!” Special Agent in Charge Dan McCoy barked from somewhere near the main entrance.

Ty"s shoulders slumped, making him look like a scolded puppy who was miraculously good at dodging water balloons, and he dropped his ammunition as more landed around them.

Zane wasn"t so calm. He angrily batted down the next balloon thrown at him, and it hit the concrete with a smack and splash. The frigid wind bit into his wet skin and sucked the breath from his lungs, and Zane couldn"t suppress the shudder, still feeling the sting of busting balloons on his skin. “What the hell?”

“Quit bitching. At least they"re full of water and not something worse,” Ty shot back at Zane through gritted teeth. He folded his hands over his chest and the white words on his blue T-shirt—“Relax, I"m hilarious”—and hunched his shoulders as he turned to look up at the concrete structure behind them. “Goddammit, it"s not on fire!”

Those around them close enough to hear began to laugh, including some of the protesters across the street. Zane shook his head.

How the hell did Ty manage to relate to people without even trying? It would never cease to amaze him.

Another balloon sailed through the air, landing at the feet of a man with a bullhorn who stood near the entrance to the office building.

He began to inform the crowd that any further action would be considered an attack on federal property and federal agents, and that arrests would be made. When the words “up to and including deadly force” came out of his mouth, the crowd began to rumble.

Zane had read the memos. But this was the first time he had personally run into an attack. “I guess they figure we won"t arrest them for assault,” he said with a shake of his head as he watched his breath practically crystallize as he exhaled, it was so cold.

Ty looked around the crowd, his face expressionless. “Couple rubber rounds int-to them should f-fix them up,” he decided, his teeth beginning to chatter in the cold.

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Zane snorted. “Into the balloons, or into the crowd?” He crossed his arms, mirroring his partner, and took a step back. He glanced at Ty.

“Imagine the paperwork.”

“Garrett! Grady! Get your asses back inside!” McCoy yelled from across the lawn. “I"m not signing off on the sick leave when you get pneumonia!”

“You say that now, but I"m n-not f-filling out any f-forms!” Ty yelled back, stuttering harder. He was watching one of the agents decked out in riot gear, specifically eyeing the gun filled with rubber bullets. Another volley of balloons, yellow and green and red and blue, pulsing with freezing water, sailed through the air toward them.

If Ty had one of those rifles in hand, he could make an impressive show of those flying targets; that might clear these people out fast.

Zane knew that was exactly what Ty was thinking. He also knew Ty wasn"t thinking about the PR aftermath. Even when Ty considered the public backlash of his actions, he rarely cared.

“Fuck this,” Zane growled. He took Ty by the upper arm even as Ty took an impulsive step toward the man in riot gear. Zane turned them around and started pulling him back toward the building, dismissing the people watching and jeering at them.

“Those little yellow f-forms with the rippy s-sides, and the blue ones th-that ask the s-same questions f-fourteen times, and the goddamn p-pink ones that make your fingers b-blue,” Ty rambled as he followed along without protest. He sounded like Porky Pig. “I"d f-fill all those out if I could sh-shoot someone right now.”

“This time I"m with you. It would be worth it.” Another agent swiped an ID card for them, and Zane opened the side door to the building, shoved Ty inside, and followed, pulling the solid steel door shut behind them and wincing because the alarm was still wailing.

Ty threw his arm over Zane"s shoulders and hugged him close.

His skin was cold against Zane"s. “This is g-getting ugly,” he said, not looking at Zane. Zane knew he was referring to the situation at large, the unrest in the city. He continued to speak, lowering his voice until Zane couldn"t hear him above the blaring warning.

8 | Madeleine Urban & Abigail Roux

“We need to go back to the showers. Hot water,” Zane said when he shuddered, and not in a good way. “Riot team will clear those assholes out before we leave. And you know whoever pulled that fire alarm is in deep shit.”

Ty shook his head. His fingers dragged against Zane"s skin as he removed his arm from Zane"s shoulders. “Work, work, work,” he murmured, shaking his head.

“I"m sserious,” Zane said as the cold really started to set in. “I"m too cold.” His fingers were almost numb as he tried to grasp the bottom of his wet T-shirt to pull it over his head.

“I"ll warm you up later,” Ty promised. It was a nice thought, but not helpful right now. Ty had somehow mastered the shivering and teeth chattering already. He"d once told Zane that the best way to stop the shivering was to consciously relax your body, et voilà, no more shaking. But Zane had never gotten it to work.

Zane turned and led the way back to their lockers, managed to get his wet clothes off, and rubbed himself down roughly with his towel, trying to ward off the bone-aching chill.

The alarm abruptly cut off, but the ringing in Zane"s ears still covered any sound Ty might have been making behind him. Then three fingers touched the nape of Zane"s neck and dragged down his spine, between his shoulder blades, to the small of his back and across a hip as Ty moved past him. “Eight-hour workday to go, Lone Star. Suck it up,”

Ty said as he popped open his own locker.

This time the shiver skittering across Zane"s skin had nothing to do with a chill and everything to do with finding the patience to get through the day while looking forward to that night.

THE blinking light on his phone drew Zane"s attention away from the report he was trying to parse. He always muted his phone when he was in the office, especially at times like today when the whole team—like school kids at desks in a little pod shaped like the Pentagon—was stuck slogging through their casework.

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He was sitting with Michelle Clancy, Scott Alston, Fred Perrimore, and Harry Lassiter, the other members of their extended Bureau assignment team. Still, it could be a call from one of the other departments, a contact, or another agent. So Zane slid the cell out from under a pile of folders and thumbed off the key lock as he looked at the screen. It was a text message. Frowning a little, Zane hit the key to open the message.

Whats proper workplace etiquette for picking up computer and
tossing out window? Open window first or break glass?

Zane blinked and read the text again. Then he focused on the number and realized who"d sent the message. He sighed and set his phone down, going back to his report. It wasn"t a message that needed an answer. His partner wasn"t more than ten feet away, sitting at his desk, staring at his computer screen and repeatedly tapping the same error key on his keyboard. If Ty wanted a response from Zane, he could just open his mouth and speak. When Zane glanced at him, he saw Ty sit back in his chair and cock his head at the computer. He"d stopped typing, and he looked listless and frustrated.

Ty"s computer never worked the way it was supposed to. The team joked that he had electromagnetic pulses going through him, because no matter what he touched, the machine nearly always messed up. The computer, the printer, the fax machine, sometimes even the automatic faucets in the bathrooms. They never worked correctly for him. He also hated paperwork with unusual passion, so it made it doubly funny.

Zane looked down at the files spread across the desk in front of him. He could sit and do detail-crunching all day; it appealed to his analytical brain. Ty, however, made no apologies for being bored by paperwork. He was definitely a man of action. Zane usually tried to at least send him out on errands, but today there wasn"t even that to throw in front of him. With one last glance at Ty, Zane went back to reconciling suspected criminal bank account transfer data connected to a series of kidnappings.

Several minutes later, the light on his phone blinked again. Zane stopped typing as he looked at the phone and then across the desks at Ty. He didn"t appear to have moved, and his phone was nowhere in 10 | Madeleine Urban & Abigail Roux

sight. He wasn"t looking at Zane, and there was no ghost of a smile on his lips like there would have been if he"d been up to something. Zane had seen that smile too many times to miss even a hint of it. He picked up his phone and saw the second text message. Same phone number.

He"d never gotten around to programming Ty"s name into the contact list.