“Corbin and Del Porter were booked to leave on that cruise tomorrow,” McCoy said again. “We have it on good authority they plan to meet several of their buyers and sellers while on this cruise, taking advantage of somewhat lax security and customs and what have you in the Caribbean. And since this will be the first instance of the two of them ever showing themselves physically in their business dealings, their contacts only have virtual interactions to go on. They won"t know you"re imposters. We can get a lot of information out of this if you two take their places and play your cards right.”
“I"m not sure I like the sound of this,” Zane said. “We"ve not got word one on the case until today, and now we"re supposed to impersonate these guys?”
“You"ll be given a crash course. And you"re both professional bullshit artists; you"re perfect for it,” McCoy replied carelessly. Zane frowned at him.
Ty scratched slowly at his cheek. “Okay,” he said carefully. He still didn"t understand why McCoy seemed to be enjoying the prospect so much. There was a catch coming.
“You leave at nine in the morning. The rest of your team has already been put in place,” McCoy told them as he pushed another stack of files toward the center of the table.
“Our team?” Zane repeated. Ty sighed heavily and closed his eyes. There was the catch.
“You know the drill, Garrett, a team. Team leader, two more field agents, and tech support. Read the files so you don"t end up shooting one of them when you meet them. And Grady, we"ll be needing you to make just a few… alterations… to your appearance before you go,” he said as he studied Ty critically.
“What the hell are you talking about, McCoy? It"s not like he can gain fifty pounds overnight,” Zane said crossly.
“Nothing like that. Some hot wax and a little bleach, and he"ll be set,” McCoy continued, barely keeping himself from laughing now.
“Hot wax?” Ty asked in alarm. He heard Zane stifle a snort.
“Del Porter is what you would call… arm candy,” McCoy drawled with a smirk.
“Oh hell,” Zane muttered, leaning back, rubbing his hand over his face, and shifting in his chair uncomfortably. Ty glanced at him, not following.
“I see that Garrett has figured it out,” McCoy said, his voice nearly bubbly. Ty shook his head in confusion.
“I didn"t mention that?” McCoy asked in feigned innocence as he flipped through his notes as if he needed to check his information.
“Corbin and Del Porter aren"t brothers, gentlemen. They"re lovers.
Legally married, in fact.” He reached out and placed two silver rings on the desk in front of them. “Go ahead and put those on,” he instructed.
Zane went totally still, his eyes locked on the jewelry. Then his chin rose as his gaze shifted to McCoy. “Are you sure this is necessary?” he asked flatly.
Ty very carefully didn"t say anything in response as he stared at the shiny rings. He"d worn a wedding ring before as part of a cover.
But this was different.
“The Porters are a very out g*y couple,” McCoy continued, ignoring their reactions to the news. “The fact is well-known to all their contacts. It would be an alarm bell if you weren"t wearing the rings,” he said to Zane. “Corbin is what you"d call the brains of the operation. Del is… pretty.”
Ty still sat motionless, staring at McCoy with a churning in his gut as he realized what they were being thrown into. A very out g*y couple amongst people who would expect them to act as such—
including a team of their own people. He slowly reached out and picked up one of the rings, turning it over in his hand. It was a simple silver band, flat and wide. He glanced at Zane apprehensively. Zane still wore his own gold wedding ring on his finger. Ty didn"t know how his partner would react to replacing it, even temporarily. But Zane didn"t move a muscle, didn"t even twitch as he stared at the single ring still there in front of McCoy.
“Now understand: this may put you both in a few uncomfortable situations,” McCoy went on sincerely. “But you"ve both got UC
experience, and I"m sure you"d both rather have to kiss each other than be shot at,” he joked. Ty cleared his throat and tried to restrain a smile.
McCoy had no idea how right he was. “Those rings are all we"re going to provide you for this one,” he continued. “We"ve appropriated the bags they"d already packed for their cruise, so you"re set on being clothed and otherwise outfitted. Lucky for us, you two are even roughly the same sizes,” McCoy rambled as he stood. “Everything they needed for the deals they were making is in that luggage. You"ll have to smuggle weapons on board; we"ll come up with some sort of concealment for them in the luggage. The captain and head of security on board have been informed of your involvement, but you are not to break cover even with them unless absolutely necessary. Ty, if you find yourself in the brig, you stay there until they make port. You"ll have the rest of your team there if you get in trouble, but when you make land, you"re shit out of luck.”
McCoy stood at the end of his little speech, looking down at them with a raised eyebrow and a smile. Ty and Zane sat staring at him, their mouths hanging open as they listened.
Dan McCoy had been a good field agent, and he was a good Special Agent in Charge. Ty had even worked on a few cases with him before McCoy had been promoted, and they"d gotten on well—which was probably why McCoy was enjoying this so much and letting it show. Ty sort of wanted to hit him.
“Come with me,” McCoy invited with relish as he swept out the door.
A few moments after he disappeared, Zane stood abruptly with a sniff and straightened his jacket. Ty saw that he was grinding his teeth.
He lowered his head and looked at the ring in his hand, not sure what to do or say about it. He supposed he would just put his on and let Zane work it out himself. He slipped it on his finger discreetly as he stood up. It was a little tight; he had to force it over the knuckle that was still a little swollen from the surgery he"d had to remove a piece of cougar tooth, but once it got on, it fit well. Ty very carefully didn"t give it any extra attention after that.
Zane reached out and plucked up the other ring, closing it into the fist of his right hand before turning on his heel to leave the room. Ty followed them out silently, dreading the hissy fit that would come soon enough.
They followed McCoy down a few floors to an interrogation room and filed into the observation half of one of the suites where an agent, Harry Lassiter, already stood at the glass. Ty and Zane nodded to the man as McCoy pointed through the two-way mirror. “Gentlemen, meet Del Porter.”