“We heard you were looking for Julian Cross,” Preston said, voice devoid of an accent.

“This is not Julian Cross,” Agent X said in a low voice.

“We figured the beard was enough of a threat to national security to bring him in,” Ty said as he waved a hand at Zane’s face.

Zane turned his head and glared at him.

“Release this man, please,” the Big Kahuna said, and Agent Y stood to walk over to them. He unlocked Zane’s hands and stepped back, looking at all three of them with narrowed eyes.

“This is Zane Garrett,” the agent said as he turned to look at his superior.

“What?” Ty said as he turned to look at Zane. Zane was trying not to grin as Ty dragged his gaze up and down him. “Wow, he does kind of look like him.” He poked Zane’s stomach. “Say something Irish.”

“Irish I was at home,” Zane said, managing not to smile.

The Big Kahuna stood and smoothed his hand down his tie. “Mr. Cross, we’re pleased you came in. Randall Jonas has been a thorn in our side for a long while.” He was looking at Preston.

“I can’t say I’m pleased to be here,” Preston murmured.

Agent Y looked from Ty to Zane to Preston. “Sir, this is not Julian Cross.”

“Yes, he is,” Agent X said with a smile.

“What of Randall Jonas?” Preston asked.

“He was shot while trying to escape.”

“Shot?” Ty said in surprise.

“The investigation has already concluded.”

Ty blinked at him, not able to really process that information.

The Big Kahuna smiled and waved a hand at Agent X. “Take these men into custody. Let them see what it is to be on the wrong side of the Company.”

TY SAT in a white-and-chrome padded room, his legs shackled to a table, his hands chained together to a ring on the tabletop. The jumpsuit he wore had no markings, buttons, or zippers. Not even a tag. He was wearing shoes with no socks, and nothing under the jumpsuit. They’d taken everything from him, even the compass rose pendant Zane had given him.

He stared at his reflection in the mirror, knowing there was someone on the other side. He drummed his fingers on the table, trying to make the rhythm slow and measured to dispel the nerves that zinged through him. He’d been held all night in this observation room, given only water in a Styrofoam cup. When he’d told his guard that the CIA was killing the planet with Styrofoam, the man had left with his cup and never come back.

The door to his room opened with the loud clank of heavy metal, and Ty watched as two men in suits sauntered in and sat opposite him at the table.

“Special Agent Beaumont Tyler Grady, correct? Also known as Tyler Beaumont and… Sam Hill?”

Ty stared at the man, raising one eyebrow. “We meet again,” he said, allowing himself a small smirk.

The agent looked up at him, and his partner glanced at him before looking back at Ty.

“We apologize for the necessity of the strip search. But it seems you have a reputation for… producing keys.”

Ty shrugged. “Don’t worry about it, that’s not even the first one I’ve had this week,” he said, voice wry. He looked at Agent X and grinned widely. “It was the most fun, though, huh?”

Agent Y blinked rapidly, as if trying to hide his reaction.

Ty grinned and pointed two fingers at Agent X. “This guy, man. He likes it rough,” he said with a chuckle. He topped it with a suggestive wink at Agent X, pointing his thumb and pinky at himself and mouthing “call me.”

“That’s enough,” Agent Y murmured. Ty enjoyed that the man was uncomfortable, probably more than he should have. “Your task was to retrieve and deliver a CIA asset by the name of Julian Cross, correct?”

“No, no, you’ve got this all wrong. I was sent to get milk. I got 2 percent instead of skim and everything went ballistic. I mean you’d think I brought home soy milk or something!”

“Special Agent Grady, you can drop the act now or you can do it next week.”

“Next week’s no good for me. Do you have a calendar?”

The two CIA agents sat stolid, staring at him.

“Wow. Tough crowd.” Ty hummed and looked down at his hands, beginning the tune to the “Battle Hymn of the Republic.”

“Special Agent Grady, the sooner you answer our questions, the sooner you go home.”

Ty stopped humming only to let it turn into a whistle.

The two agents waited for a few more moments, then stood and exited, closing the door behind them with an echo of finality.

Ty couldn’t help the shiver that ran up his spine, but he looked up at the mirror with a grin, the hum turned into muttered words, and soon he was singing. He mangled the lyrics to the chorus, though, replacing the word “hallelujah” with “paranoia” and making up his own words to the rest of the song.

He hadn’t finished the song before the door opened again. He glanced at the newcomer, relief washing over him. “Am I glad to see you,” he told Richard Burns.

“Yes, well, I wish I could say the same,” Burns growled as he tossed a pair of handcuff keys on the table. They slid past Ty’s fingers, just out of reach. Ty tried to reach them with the tip of one finger as Burns sat opposite him.

“That’s so unnecessary,” Ty mumbled as he continued to try and reach the keys.

Burns sat snickering at him for a few moments before he finally took pity on him and reached out to cut through the zip tie and unlock the handcuffs. He handed Ty the keys so he could release his feet.

“Everything’s settled down?” Ty asked as he ducked under the table.

“That depends. The CIA currently has in its custody two FBI agents and one Boston police detective who is demanding they pay for the damage to his boat.”

“He’s okay?”

Burns nodded. “Emptied a double-barreled shotgun at a couple of Company lackeys, and then they arrested him. He spent all night claiming he thought they were the Men in Black coming to scan his brain.”

Ty bit his lip so he wouldn’t laugh.

“They returned him to his boat this morning, and he’s on his way home. Safe.”

Ty breathed a sigh of relief at that.

“Julian Cross is responsible for the deaths of half a dozen CIA agents.”

Ty nodded, pressing his lips tightly together. It was true that every man who’d lost his life had fallen to the hands of Julian Cross. “That’s unfortunate. It was self-defense, though, he thought they were trying to kill us.”

“We’re aware of that, Ty, but here’s the problem the Company has right now. It seems the man you brought in was not, in fact, Julian Cross.”

“No?” Ty asked, feigning surprise as he sat back up and doing it badly just to annoy his superior. “Huh. That’s weird.”

Burns hummed, meeting Ty’s eyes and trying not to smile. “You want the CIA to believe that you mistook your partner for your prisoner, handcuffed him, and delivered him to Langley?”

Ty shrugged. “I mean… he grew a beard. It was an honest mistake.”

Burns nodded. “Fair enough.”

Ty stared at him, waiting for the other shoe to drop. A man appeared at the doorway, all clean-cut and dashing and looking official with his badge and gun. Ty looked Preston up and down in surprise.

“They’ve changed my code name to avoid further confusion,” Preston said with a smile. “Thank you for escorting me safely from Chicago, Special Agent Grady.”

Ty blinked at him, not sure what to say to that. So he just kept his mouth shut. Preston nodded and turned to go. Ty looked back at Burns.

“I’m filing this under my Rubik’s Cube,” Burns murmured. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

Ty hopped up to follow. “Can I get my things back?”

“Working on it.”

Ty grumbled but didn’t ask again. The first person he saw when he exited the room was Zane, already dressed, freshly shaven, and ready to go. Ty pointed at him as he glared at Burns.

“You rescued him first?”

“We’ve been watching you through the mirror for ten minutes,” Zane told him, trying not to smile.

“They’ve been training rookies off you, Ty,” Burns said as he walked away.

Ty glared after him, then glanced at Zane with a grin and threw himself at his partner to hug him before Zane could dodge him. Zane laughed and closed his arms around Ty, returning the enthusiastic embrace.

“Gentlemen,” Agent X said as he approached them. Ty let go of Zane’s neck and turned to look at the man. He held a bundle of Ty’s clothing and possessions. “You did an impressive job this week.”

Ty and Zane shared a glance. “Thank you, I guess,” Zane said warily.

“The Agency would like to extend an invitation to both of you.”

Ty leaned his head forward as if he’d heard wrong.

“An invitation?” Zane repeated.

“You’re offering us a job?” Ty asked, incredulous.

Agent X nodded. “We here at the Agency believe that if you can’t kill it, you hire it.”

Ty barked a laugh. Zane just shook his head and turned away, trailing after Burns.

Ty wagged a finger at Agent X, who was smiling ever so faintly. He took his things from the man. “You’re kind of all right, man,” Ty told him, still laughing. “Later, gator.”

He turned to amble off after the other two, content that the ordeal was over and he could finally go home. With Zane.

ZANE was already wrapped around Ty, kissing him senseless as he pressed him against the front door of his row house. Ty fumbled behind him for the doorknob, turning the lock and causing the door to open, tumbling both of them into the house.

Zane kicked the door closed and grabbed at Ty again, but Ty pushed at his hands and tensed, looking around the living room of his home.

“Wait, wait,” he whispered urgently, eyes scanning the darkness behind Zane. “Someone’s been here.”

“What?” Zane asked as he turned and reached for his gun. “How do you know?”

Ty drew his weapon and edged into the narrow room. “Couple years ago a suspect broke in during a case. I set up backup systems.”

“Seriously? Like what?”

“Zane!” Ty hissed, waving at Zane to be quiet as he edged further into the room, heading for the kitchen. Zane followed, backing him up as he felt the tension of the last few weeks begin to invest itself in his shoulders once more. What else could they possibly run into before this month was over? Was it possible that he had set Ty's alarms off when he’d come here at night? He prayed for a simple answer.

Ty moved past the bar, turning and pointing his weapon at the kitchen. He stopped short and straightened, lowering his gun as he stared at the kitchen floor.

“What?” Zane asked, breathless.

Ty shook his head.

“What is it?”

“It’s… alive,” Ty mumbled as he stuck his gun in its holster. “It’s Smith and Wesson.”

“Cross’ cats?” Zane moved into the kitchen and flipped the overhead light on.

The two large long-haired orange cats sat in the middle of the kitchen, eating cat food out of a bowl. They glanced over at Ty and Zane. One of them growled deep in its chest and then went back to eating. As it ate, it continued growling.

“Oh my God,” Zane whispered.

Ty was reading a note left on the counter, paying the two monsters no mind. “He says he’ll retrieve them after he and Cam have settled somewhere. ‘Don’t get too attached,’ he says.”

Ty put the note down and looked at the two cats. One of them was still growling as it ate, making obscene smacking and hissing sounds.

“I knew that bastard hated me,” Ty grumbled as he turned to head up the steps.

“But… Ty,” Zane said as he looked at the cats. They had left the food bowl behind and were stalking toward him, looking at him with luminous green eyes. “Uh.”

One of the massive orange cats hissed at him. Zane stepped back, out of their way, as they sauntered past him toward the stairs, their tails swishing like the two evil Siamese cats in that Disney movie. Zane gaped at them as they trailed after Ty up the stairs.

THE day after returning to Baltimore, Ty and Zane finally found themselves back at their desks and back to work, with absolutely no downtime as a reward for what they’d been through. The rest of the work group greeted them enthusiastically, Scott Alston even giving Ty a hug in greeting before he handed him a stack of paperwork.

“Welcome back,” Michelle Clancy said as she came up and put her arm around Ty’s waist as he sat on the edge of Zane’s desk.

He laid his arm over her shoulders, then glanced over her and frowned. “What’s wrong, Red? You look like someone kicked your puppy.”

Clancy shrugged and gave him a weak smile. “They transferred Tim yesterday.”

Ty raised an eyebrow and glanced at Zane. “Who’s Tim?”

“Financial Crimes guy,” Zane murmured from his seat. He looked at Clancy. “Why’d he transfer?”

Clancy shrugged one shoulder and laid her head against Ty. She looked like she was holding back tears. “I think they found out we were dating. Sent him to North Carolina.”

“Jesus,” Zane whispered.

Ty stared at the top of her head, feeling as if his heart had dropped into his stomach. “Why didn’t they just reassign him?” he asked, surprised when he found his voice hoarse.

Clancy shrugged. “They wanted to make an example of it, I guess.” A tear slid down her cheek, and Ty pushed away from the desk to offer her a hug. She accepted it gratefully, something the hard-as-nails little redhead rarely did. He looked over her head to meet Zane’s eyes, seeing the same fear in them as he was suddenly feeling.