Cut And Run - Divide And Conquer Part 1

Divide & Conquer.

by Madeleine Urban and Abigail Roux.

For all of those who keep going, even when they cant see the light.

Chapter One.

C UED by the station jingle, the lights came up on the television newscast set, highlighting a slim, pleasant-faced black woman in a white blouse and green suit jacket sitting at the desk and tall, smiling man wearing a charcoal gray suit. The station logo appeared on the screen. "This is WBAL TV 11 News at 6. Im Jeff Barns."

"And Im Alicia Harrison. Good evening." The camera focused on Harrison as a photo of a police car on fire appeared over her left shoulder. "Riots shook the city last night following the Ravens loss to the Pittsburgh Steelers in the divisional round playoff. It was the third riot since New Years Eve, and the violence continues to escalate. Andrea Gregg has more on the story."

A siren cut to a night shot of a police car burning. People ran in front of it, taking photos and yelling as firefighters worked to douse the flames. The windows in the store behind them were smashed, gla.s.s scattered everywhere. A teenager was kicking in a final window in the background.

"For the third time in a month, residents of Baltimore have woken up to a city in ruins." The sound of gla.s.s shards crackling and dragging on concrete accompanied the shot change. An older, balding man was sweeping up gla.s.s in front of a store.

"They ransacked the place," the man, identified by the t.i.tle cards as Store Owner Steve Vilnick, said. "This is the second time this month. Im not sure well open again."

As he kept sweeping, Greggs voice took over. "So far, no one has been seriously injured in the riots, but the property damage now reaches into the millions. Police say they are doing all they can to bring those responsible to justice, but tempers are beginning to fray. Today, city residents showed their frustration in a number of organized protests outside police headquarters."

The shot changed to a demonstration outside the ugly facade of one of Baltimores many police district buildings. "They arent doing enough," a young woman identified as Jasmine Burke, student, said. "What have they done to stop it? Nothing. Its getting so you cant go around at night anymore without walking into the middle of a battleground."

"What are we paying them for?" Roy Monroe, store clerk, said. "Theyve made no arrests, got no leads. Man, after they smashed up the store I work in, we had to shut down for a week, and I didnt get reimbursed for that time. Why are we still paying them?"

"I am concerned. Of course Im concerned," Bob Smitherman, banker, said. "Places that have always been safe in the city just arent anymore, and public events? After New Years, Im avoiding them. Too many angry people and too few police."

The shot switched to the Baltimore police chief. "We are, of course, doing all we can to stop the instigators of these riots, but we need the publics help to restore peace and safety to our city. We cant stand strong when were divided."

A young woman in a light blue blazer appeared on screen holding a microphone. Her t.i.tle read Andrea Gregg, WBAL reporter. A number appeared at the bottom of the screen. "Police are asking anyone with information or photos of rioters destroying property to call the tip line. You can also submit tips anonymously at www.baltimorepolice.org. This is Andrea Gregg, reporting for WBAL TV 11."

T HE steaming hot water poured down over his shoulders, and Special Agent Zane Garrett groaned, drawing it out as he rotated his head to stretch the tense muscles of his neck. The shower was a pleasure after the two-hour workout this morning that had culminated in another rough-and-tumble boxing match with his partner.

Zane let his eyes flutter shut, laid his head back to soak his hair, and released a long sigh while he enjoyed the pounding water pressure. This was an old gym, a small one tucked away in the bas.e.m.e.nt of the FBIs Baltimore field office. But Zane preferred it to the newer, shinier fitness center in town that some of the agents frequented. Mostly because this old locker room had wonderfully tall shower heads and he didnt have to stoop-one of the hazards of being six foot five-and half-wall shower stalls, which meant he could sometimes ogle his very handsome partner without too much risk of being caught.

Straightening, Zane opened his eyes, switching his attention from the water trickling down his face to the man not even three feet away on the other side of the tiled barrier.

Special Agent Ty Grady stood with his face turned toward the water and his hands on the tile wall in front of him, his shoulders hunched forward and his back arched. His dark brown hair was cut short, shorter than usual, a necessity after being bleached blond for their last a.s.signment. The water poured over and around his defined muscles, sloughing off the remains of the soap from his body and making the dull gold of his Marine Corps signet ring shine. Winding down in the shower was one of the few times Zane ever saw his partner that still, a true novelty when it came to Ty Grady.

Although if Ty stayed in place for more than a minute, Zane could get his hands on him.... Zane growled and ducked his head back under the water, reaching to turn down the water temperature before grabbing his bottle of body wash. His ability to keep the l.u.s.t in check while at work was usually better than this.

When he glanced over a couple of breaths later, Ty was leaning his arms on the part.i.tion between them, smirking at him. Zane arched an eyebrow, wondering not for first time if Ty could read his mind.

Ty looked him up and down and then glanced over his shoulder at the otherwise empty showers. "So, I had a thought," he told Zane casually.

"Danger, Will Robinson," Zane commented as he squeezed gel into one hand and started soaping up.

"Dont 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, youll 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 Tys skin. Tys 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 didnt 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 s.n.a.t.c.hed up his towel and hurried after his partner. He grabbed Tys arm when he caught up. "You cant go outside soaking wet and practically naked in the middle of G.o.dd.a.m.n January!" He started tugging Ty back toward their lockers, where they could at least grab shorts and T-shirts and running shoes.

"Cold is better than on fire," Ty argued, though he let Zane drag him back. "Theres no fire down here."

"You dont 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 wasnt panicking, of course. Ty never panicked unless he was trapped in the dark or couldnt find his beloved Bronco in the parking lot. He shucked the towel, pulled on a pair of shorts, and slid his feet into his worn athletic shoes. Then he grabbed Zanes arm and gave him a tug toward the exit, heedless of Zane trying to get into his shorts.

"Okay, d.a.m.n, give me one second!" Zane exclaimed, grabbing his T-shirt and towel after shoving his feet into his running shoes, resisting Tys yanking as he leaned over to s.n.a.t.c.h up Tys T-shirt before letting his partner pull him along.

"Drag your feet later, Lone Star. Either the buildings on fire or its a drill and well be doing paperwork until our fingers bleed if were 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 Zanes arm or his insistence that being half-naked and outside was better than any alternative right then.

"Im thinking well get a little leeway since we were in the showers," Zane bit off as they thundered up the concrete steps out of the bas.e.m.e.nt 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 pa.s.sed.

By the time Zane realized hed 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.

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. Tys 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 wasnt 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 couldnt suppress the shudder, still feeling the sting of busting balloons on his skin. "What the h.e.l.l?"

"Quit b.i.t.c.hing. At least theyre 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, Im hilarious"-and hunched his shoulders as he turned to look up at the concrete structure behind them. "G.o.ddammit, its 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 h.e.l.l 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 wont arrest them for a.s.sault," 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.

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 a.s.ses back inside!" McCoy yelled from across the lawn. "Im not signing off on the sick leave when you get pneumonia!"

"You say that now, but Im 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 wasnt thinking about the PR aftermath. Even when Ty considered the public backlash of his actions, he rarely cared.

"f.u.c.k 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 G.o.dd.a.m.n p-pink ones that make your fingers b-blue," Ty rambled as he followed along without protest. He sounded like Porky Pig. "Id f-fill all those out if I could sh-shoot someone right now."

"This time Im 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 Zanes shoulders and hugged him close. His skin was cold against Zanes. "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 couldnt hear him above the blaring warning.

"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 a.s.sholes out before we leave. And you know whoever pulled that fire alarm is in deep s.h.i.t."

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

"Im s-serious," Zane said as the cold really started to set in. "Im 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.

"Ill 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. Hed once told Zane that the best way to stop the shivering was to consciously relax your body, et voila, 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 Zanes ears still covered any sound Ty might have been making behind him. Then three fingers touched the nape of Zanes 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 Zanes 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.

T HEblinking light on his phone drew Zanes attention away from the report he was trying to pa.r.s.e. 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.

He was sitting with Mich.e.l.le Clancy, Scott Alston, Fred.

Perrimore, and Harry La.s.siter, the other members of their extended Bureau a.s.signment 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 gla.s.s? Zane blinked and read the text again. Then he focused on the number and realized whod sent the message. He sighed and set his phone down, going back to his report. It wasnt a message that needed an answer. His partner wasnt 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 c.o.c.k his head at the computer. Hed stopped typing, and he looked listless and frustrated.

Tys 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 pa.s.sion, 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 a.n.a.lytical 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 wasnt 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 didnt appear to have moved, and his phone was nowhere in sight. He wasnt looking at Zane, and there was no ghost of a smile on his lips like there would have been if hed 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. Hed never gotten around to programming Tys name into the contact list.

He debated not even looking at the text; he wasnt sure he wanted to encourage Ty to distract him from work. Then, after a moment, Zane shook himself. There was no reason to be so seriously uptight about this. He activated the phone to read the message.

The last 3 calls on my phone are for backup and pizza and s.e.x. In that order. Cant decide what that says about me. Zane almost forgot to repress his smile. The night before Ty had called him to say hed ordered pizza and that Zane should pick it up on his way over. They had intended to watch some football in front of Tys big-screen TV, but pointless playoff games not featuring any of Tys favored teams werent enough to hold Tys attention for long. After the pizza was gone, theyd wound up in front of the TV all right, doing something entirely different than watching it.

Zane sniffed. He very purposefully did not shift in his chair as he set his phone down without answering or looking up at his partner. Maybe hed pick up dinner tonight too. His phone almost immediately lit up again. Zane hadnt even picked his pen back up. This time he glanced around the desks at their team members-none of them were paying him or Ty a bit of attention-before he poked at the phone to read the message.

You realize I have free texting plan right? Obviously, ignoring Ty wasnt going to work. But Zane pushed away the phone, determined to do his level best. Simply because the struggle would amuse Ty, if he were being honest with himself. And keeping Ty amused was good for the rest of humanity.

The phone lit up again, and when Zanes eyes cut to look at Ty, his partner was leaning back in his chair, feet blatantly propped on his desk as he held his phone in his hands.

Zane kept typing with one hand as he un.o.btrusively shifted his phone across the papers strewn in front of him so he could hit the b.u.t.ton and read the message without drawing attention to it.

Pop quiz partner. How many letters in the government alphabet? Biting his tongue, Zane tried to decide what the answer to that would be. It was fifty-fifty that it was a joke. He figured Ty was trying to break him now, to get him to react, maybe even to laugh. As he checked his peripheral vision, he could see Ty watching him, his head lowered just enough to make him look slightly predatory. Zane knew that look too well. Most people who didnt know Ty were intimidated by the glint in his hazel eyes and the slightly malicious curve to his full lips. But Zane had come to learn that Ty only wore that look when he was enjoying himself. And it made his clean-shaven, heart-shaped face that much more handsome, which irked Zane to no end. Irked and aroused.

Just to egg him on, Zane ignored the message, went back to working on the reconciliation, and tried to build up the resolve it would take not to react to Tys next attempt to break his cool.

The phone lit up again, and this time Ty had returned his attention to his computer when Zane surrept.i.tiously glanced at him. Zane wondered how the h.e.l.l Ty typed so fast on the itty-bitty phone keypad. He would have liked to have seen it, if it wouldnt have spoiled their game.

He made them both wait five minutes through a discussion of a.s.sets with Alston before he hit the key to open the latest text message. Answer: 19. ET went home on a UFO and the FBI went after him. Zane blinked several times at the screen as he kept a straight face, though by all rights, that one did deserve a laugh. Whod have known hed be tapping into years of undercover experience to hide that he was playing text games in the office? He tapped his pen thoughtfully on the ledger as he stared at it blankly. He was certainly distracted now. He suspected Ty knew it. But theyd both continue to enjoy it if Zane tried not to admit it. He wouldnt have dreamed of goofing off like this at work a year ago. h.e.l.l, six months ago. But Ty Grady had done his d.a.m.nedest to yank the stick out of Zanes a.s.s....

The little message icon in the corner of his phones display began to blink, indicating he had yet another message. He hadnt even seen Ty move. Was it possible to schedule these texts ahead of time? That would take quite a bit of forethought, but it was just the kind of plot Ty would favor. Zane shifted around his stack of folders, took a drink of coffee, and checked the message.

You know you want to laugh.

Score one for Zane Garrett. He looked up slowly, face composed, raising one eyebrow. Ty was watching him. He winked when Zane met his eyes, but he wasnt fully smiling yet. He still wore that infuriating smirk. Instead of answering in any way, Zane sniffed and turned to his computer. That reaction would surely get another out of his partner. Besides, Zane was intrigued now to see what Ty would come up with that would be enough to get Zane to laugh despite his practiced control.

He didnt have to wait long for Tys next attempt. His phone lit up, and Zane was able to catch a glimpse of Ty reaching out to set his own phone on the desk. Zane deliberately waited a couple of minutes before turning in his chair to change out files and check the message.

Did you hear about the guy downstairs who lost his left arm and left leg in a wreck? Hes all right now. Zane stared at the little screen really hard for a long moment before he was able to shake his head ever so slightly and turn away from the phone.