“Look, Garrett’s a dirty Fed. Liam’s a hired gun. They’re both after Ty, who is a dirty rat.”
“Hey!”
Owen flopped his hands. “Well, you were!”
“Granted, but I am no longer after Ty,” Liam added. “Turned the job down, remember?”
“Details. Garrett has Grady, wants to trade him in for safe passage to Miami, and Bell tells the cartel.”
“Why didn’t you just say that the first time?” Liam grumbled.
“I don’t want safe passage to Miami,” Zane said.
“He’s not being literal, Garrett, Jesus Christ,” Ty snapped.
“I’m sorry, Grady, I have a hard time thinking like an ass**le!”
“He means getting back in good with the cartel. Or getting out clean, what the f**k ever. Would your cover still fly with them? Could you go in as a compromised agent?”
“Yeah,” Zane said, nodding slowly. “I was there two years ago. The story was I got out of prison. When they pulled me, though, I just disappeared.”
Ty tapped the table. “That was right around the same time de la Vega was killed.”
“You would know,” Zane mumbled.
“It’s possible he found out you were a Fed, turned you, and gave you a job to do in the Bureau. You left to do it right before he was offed, and ever since, you’ve been looking for the man who killed him. Will that work?”
Zane stared at Ty for several seconds before nodding. “They’ll be suspicious. Going in and admitting I’m a Fed, that . . . that might actually work. Yeah. Yeah, I can work with that.”
“So Zane calls up the cartel boys,” Nick drawled, “tells them he’s their long lost buddy, and he’s got the man who killed big papi?”
Digger made a clicking sound with his tongue. “So far, all I’m seeing is Garrett handing Grady over to the people who already want him dead and telling them more reasons why he should be dead.”
“But they’re not the only people who want him dead,” Owen said.
“You want to play a fiddle game where Ty is the fiddle?” Liam asked.
“Fuck no.” Ty shook his head. “The fiddle dies.”
“I’m good with it,” Liam said.
“The fiddle is usually an object,” Digger said. “What the f**k kind of messed up fiddle game you been playing?”
“No, no,” Owen said quickly. “We make the cartel believe Ty is the one they want, not Zane. And then we call up Papa Gaudet.”
“Who obviously wants to talk to me before killing me,” Ty added.
“Right. And we tell him when and where the cartel plans to acquire and kill Ty.”
“So you’ve, in theory, pitted Gaudet against the cartel.” Nick winced. “That’s banking on Gaudet still wanting information from Ty badly enough to keep him alive. And hoping they’ll fight over him instead of just teaming up to make him dead.”
Owen’s shoulders slumped and he sat back down. “True. I wouldn’t want those odds if I was the fiddle.”
“It’s not the fiddle game!” Digger shouted.
Ty sat silent, resting his chin in his hand and scowling. His knee began to bounce as he examined the floor. Finally, he waved his hand and sat up straighter. “So we give them what they want.”
“You? Dead?” Zane asked incredulously.
Ty nodded. “We don’t need the two sides to wipe each other out, we don’t need them to fight. We just need them to think they succeeded. So we get them both there. Zane brings me in, and he kills me in front of all of them. Their problem is gone so they’ll clear out, and bonus points, they’re no longer after Zane.”
“How the hell is that a good plan when it involves me killing you?” Zane shouted.
Ty put a finger to his lips and shook his head. “There is a small glitch, I’ll admit.”
Nick rubbed at the stubble on his chin as the idea became clear. “We put you in Digger’s vest.”
“Fuck, that’s risky,” Digger whispered. “It’s only NIJ II level protection. If Garrett’s close enough to make sure someone doesn’t take a head shot, he’d be too close for the vest; the bullet could go right through. And if it don’t go through, it’s definitely f**king him up. Broken ribs, sternum, maybe organ damage.”
Nick shook his head. “Not if Zane’s shooting a blank.”
“There’s no way that’d look real, there’d be no impact,” Ty said, but he was sitting forward, warming to the idea. “But if the real shot is taken from further away . . .”
“A sniper?” Zane asked.
Ty gave him a curt nod. “It’d have to be a long-ass way. One, to make sure he’s not spotted during the meet, and two, make sure it doesn’t kill me. NIJ II is . . . 1,100 to 1,800 feet per second.”
Nick groaned and ran a hand through his hair. “You’re talking eight-hundred, maybe a thousand yards before a sniper round drops to that velocity. Or more. I know I can’t make that shot with enough accuracy to hit a vest with my best friend in it.”
Ty met Nick’s eyes and nodded. Nick’s heart jumped into his throat. He gave a slight shake of his head, silently pleading with him not to ask. Ty smiled sadly, then met Liam’s eyes. Liam began to grin.
“Oh f**k no,” Zane blurted. “No way.”
“He can make it,” Ty assured him.
“Yeah, but will he, is the question.”
Liam grinned wider. “Do you trust me not to hit your heart, Grady?”
“Ty,” Zane hissed, reaching for his arm.
Ty tore his eyes away from Liam and met Zane’s. “I swore to protect you from them,” he whispered. “I was already willing to take a bullet to do that. After everything that’s happened . . .” He shook his head, unable to finish.
Zane looked stricken, and he wasn’t able to form words before Ty looked away.
Liam was rubbing his hands together. “Let’s go practice!”
Nick slumped in his chair and rubbed his hands over his face. “This is a horrible plan.”
“Before we get too excited, where the hell would we set up this meet?” Digger asked. “We’d need an open area free of bystanders, with somewhere high enough to clear a line of sight. There’s nowhere in the city like that.”
Liam thumped his back against the wall and sighed. “Damn.”