“Does it matter?”
“It does if you don’t speak Dari.”
“Do you speak Dari?”
“Yeah. Just expect a little more accuracy from the likes of you.”
“O’Flaherty, come on.”
“He’s saying he’s thirsty. And he’s asking if you can help him. ‘I’m U.S. military, can you direct me to the nearest base?’ Garrett, this sounds a lot like what we were both saying after they picked us up in the desert. I asked for directions in my sleep for months after. Is he drugged? Hurt?”
“Animal tranquilizers.”
Nick was silent. “Of course. That should have been my first guess. He’s also saying the ground is cold, if that means anything.”
“No,” Zane said with a sigh.
Ty spoke again, the words slurring. Nick started laughing.
“What? What’d he say?”
“He said his hovercraft is full of eels.”
“What? Is that code for something?”
“No.” Nick still sounded amused. “He’s just muttering, Garrett. He’s high. Lost.”
Zane inhaled deeply and nodded, almost disappointed that Ty hadn’t been trying to communicate something more than his need for water and a blanket.
“Hey,” Nick added solemnly. “He’s okay until he starts speaking Russian.”
“Russian? Since when does Ty know Russian?”
“He doesn’t. You guys need help? Where are you, what’s going on?”
“No, no. We’re okay. Just a dustup in Texas.”
“With animal tranquilizers.”
“He’ll fill you in later.”
“If you’re sure.”
“I am. You sound hungover.”
“It’s Canada Day.”
“So?”
“So, I’m in Canada.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s Canada Day! Come on, Garrett!”
Zane snorted.
“Call me when he wakes up, okay? Tell him I said to take it easy on the hard stuff.”
Zane huffed and set the phone down, then reached for the glass of water by the bed. He offered it to Ty, helping him raise his head. After a few swallows, Ty was calm again, his eyes closed, his face relaxed and serene as Zane laid his head back on the pillow.
Zane studied him like the unsolved mystery he was. He remembered overhearing Julian Cross ask how Ty knew Russian Sambo after Ty had taken him down in a scuffle. He knew Ty had been paid off to keep his silence about the way he’d been discharged from the military. And Mark had alleged a murder on Ty’s part when he had been in the service.
But he had no doubt that he knew who Ty was now, inside and out. He knew every one of Ty’s quirks and weak spots and favorite things. He knew what Ty found funny and what annoyed him. He knew what would break his heart. He knew how to touch him to drive him wild, and when to back off when Ty was having a bad day. He knew that Ty was kind and loyal and funny, that he had a deep sense of honor and righteousness. He knew that Ty would die to save a stranger, and kill to save a friend. That was the type of man he was.
He knew who Ty was now. But he suspected that the Ty he knew was a different man from the one Ty had been. The man who’d once made hardened Marines uneasy. He reached out and put his hand on Ty’s forehead. “Who were you, Ty?”
Ty responded with his name, rank, and serial number. The words were mumbled, but with an undercurrent of defiance and threat. The last person who’d received those answers from Ty hadn’t lived through the interrogation. A chill ran down Zane’s spine. He didn’t ask another question, merely laid his head down beside Ty’s to sleep.
Ty woke disoriented, just as Zane had known he would. But he was able to answer the questions two determined nurses asked—with the assistance of some creative hand signals from Zane as he stood behind them—and he was grudgingly released. He fell asleep with his head in Zane’s lap on the way home, and Zane needed three others to help him carry Ty into the house and to a bed upstairs.
Zane was still asleep, curled up next to Ty, when he heard the doorbell ring. He raised his head, confused about where he was for a few seconds. It was his old bedroom, but everything about it had long ago changed. Not even the bed was the same. The ceiling still had that same crack in it, though, the one Zane had often traced with his eyes when he couldn’t sleep.
He heard voices from downstairs. It was Thursday, and the ranch was open for business. But no one ever came into the house unless they were very special or very rich, and Zane couldn’t imagine Joe or Cody letting anyone get this far without guiding them toward the barn where they were supposed to be.
Zane looked down at Ty, running his hand over his face. Ty didn’t move, didn’t even twitch. Zane checked his pulse. Everything was as it should have been, and his pulse was strong. A man of Ty’s size should have been able to shake off the tranquilizers by now, but there was never any guessing how Ty would respond to such things.
Zane rolled out of bed with a heavy feeling. There was nothing he could do for his partner right now, and he hated it.
He slid his feet into his shoes and rubbed at his eyes as he headed for the door. He didn’t even bother looking in a mirror. He just ran his hands through his unruly hair as he thumped down the stairs.
He stopped short when he saw four men sitting in the formal living room. His mother was there, standing by the doorway, and his father was seated as he talked with the visitors.
Zane approached carefully, listening to the conversation.
“. . . figured we’d come by and see how he was.”
“That’s right neighborly of you,” Harrison said, though his voice was cool.
Beverly turned to see Zane standing there, and she reached out and patted him on the shoulder, moving him until he was leaning against the wall, out of sight. She let him go and turned back to her visitors.
A tingle of apprehension ran through Zane. His mother obviously thought something was wrong and wanted him to listen without being seen.
“Well, when you hear a man got mauled by a tiger on the next ranch over, it does cause some concern.”
Zane knew the voice. It was Stuart, the ass**le from the bar.
“He hasn’t woken yet,” Beverly said, her voice cold. “He’s still at the hospital. We don’t know what happened.”
“So he ain’t told anyone the details?” Stuart asked.
Beverly didn’t answer, and Harrison cleared his throat. “We can’t say what happened. Won’t know ’til he wakes.”