“He took my gun!” Zane said in outrage. That son of a bitch! He knew how Zane felt about being unarmed.
“You could pose that he took my gun,” Julian countered with a hint of amusement.
“So he’s already got more than his fair share,” Zane said as he thumped down next to Julian on the edge of the bed.
Julian sat straight and proper, his back and shoulders rigid. He didn’t feel tense, though. Merely sitting there to wait. Zane wondered if he’d looked like that, all stick up his ass, when he’d met Ty. With a sniff, he stretched out his legs toward the dresser and looked at the clock.
Julian’s lack of movement was almost a novelty after so many months of being close to Ty. It was like sitting beside a stone statue. When he finally did move, it was to c**k his head and look at the door.
“I believe they’re back,” he said, voice laced with surprise.
Zane frowned as he glanced up. It hadn’t even been enough time to get there on foot, much less have food and be back. “He must have forgotten something.” But that didn’t sit right. Ty wouldn’t have forgotten something when he’d planned like this. Zane pulled back his legs to stand, feeling uneasy.
As soon as he’d gained his feet, the flimsy door was kicked in and a burst of cold air flowed into the room as two men charged in. Zane didn’t even think; he snatched Cameron’s leather Dopp kit up from the dresser and backhanded it as hard as he could at the first man’s face. He didn’t know who they were or what they wanted, but their method of entry was enough reason to take them out first and ask questions later. Leatherface threw up his hands with a yelp, and the Dopp kit stopped his headlong charge as it busted open, scattering its contents all over.
Zane’s actions pulled Julian off-balance, and they stumbled as he fell into Zane. Julian righted himself just in time to pull a hand up and block a punch from a second man; then he kicked out and sent the attacker sprawling to the floor. That put Julian between Zane and Leatherface, so Zane rammed the heel of his shoes into Rugburn’s gut.
Julian turned with his movement, their backs against each other. He was jerked back when the handcuffs and Zane’s arm kept him from moving further, but he managed a roundhouse punch at Leatherface before he was pulled the other way and stumbled at Zane’s side. Zane grunted as their shoulders collided, and he purposely dropped his left arm so Julian could move it. But the few seconds of distraction gave Rugburn a window of opportunity, and he raised a leg to kick out, his shoe catching Zane’s jaw. The recoil sent Zane stumbling back a step, jerking the chain taut between him and Julian, and the backs of Zane’s knees hit the other bed.
Rugburn stood to attack again, but Julian pulled Zane’s arm, and the chain between them, hard at his neck. They caught him just right, and there was a sickening crunch as Rugburn crumpled to the floor.
But Leatherface had gained his feet. He held a gun pointed at Zane’s face, his eyes narrowing as he looked at them each in turn.
“Which one of you is Cross?”
Zane stopped, his free hand curled into a fist, and gave Leatherface a once-over. Suit and tie, leather shoes, standard holster under his suit jacket, plain brown trench coat. His appearance screamed government agent, though Zane doubted that. Why would another agent break in on their assignment? Which meant freelancers, especially since they were looking for Cross.
Julian pointed at Zane in answer to the question. Zane smacked his hand. “You’re interfering in an FBI investigation. I suggest you stand down,” he told Leatherface.
The man shook his head. “This is a national security matter.” He turned the gun toward Julian. “You’re coming with me.”
Julian struck out at him so quickly it was easy to think it was imagined. He grabbed the gun and pulled the slide, his free hand moving in a flash, and the gun fell apart in Leatherface’s hand. Julian swung at him with the slide, hitting him in the temple and dropping him in a heap.
“You’re standing too close,” he said to the unconscious man.
Zane couldn’t help but admire Julian’s speedy reaction. He’d have to remember that trick with the slide. “That was… impressive,” he said as he touched his hurting chin. His fingers came away bloody from his lip.
Julian turned to look at him. He stared for a moment and then sighed. “Cam lost his bet. Let’s see if one of these two has a set of handcuff keys, shall we?”
“National security,” Zane muttered as he crouched down next to the man they’d hit across the throat and checked for a pulse.
Julian had to bend over and hang his arm so Zane could do it. “Dead?”
“No, but he may wish he was when he wakes up,” Zane said, eyeing the vivid bruise already coming up across the man’s throat. He started searching the pockets of the man’s trench and came up with a wallet. What he saw when he flipped it open made his stomach turn.
Julian hummed. “Told you,” he said evenly. “We should go find Cameron and Grady.”
Zane studied the Langley entry ID, and from what he could tell, it was legit. He dropped it, pulled the man’s gun and set it on the floor next to him, then dug out a set of keys. “You going to tell me what’s really going on now?” he asked as he reached over to claim the ammunition cartridge from the other gun. They were both standard-issue Glocks, the same as his own.
“I’d rather wait to see if I can escape from you first,” Julian answered candidly.
“You probably could,” Zane said as he picked up the gun and stood, keys also in hand. “That doesn’t help Cameron. Or the fact that the CIA wants your ass.”
“You’re right, of course. So unlock us and let’s go.”
Zane turned and calmly pressed the business end of the gun against Julian’s midsection, the pommel brushing his own, they stood so close. “If they came at us here, we can be sure they went after Ty and Cameron too.”
Julian didn’t seem perturbed by the gun barrel in his belly. He glanced around the room and pursed his lips. “Cameron’s bag is still mostly packed. Grab it and we’ll go.”
Zane nodded but pulled Julian over to the table instead, gathering their things as quickly as possible. “Get his stuff.”
Julian did so, and he looked wryly at their joined hands. Zane wasn’t about to unlock him now. “Darling, I didn’t know you cared,” he said to Zane in a voice that was smooth as velvet. The irony was not lost in the tone, though.