by Jacob Chance
The sounds of Zoe screaming and Nash shouting are short lived.
“Shut the fuck up, or I swear I’ll kill you both right here, right now.” Belfast takes charge. “Starting with her.”
Nash stops shouting, Zoe stops screaming, and the room quickly falls silent.
“Now, we’re all gonna take a walk out into your kitchen and have a chat.”
“We need to put some clothes on first,” Nash demands.
“What you need to do is stop worrying about walking around naked in your apartment and consider the alternative.” Belfast is unflinching.
“The alternative?” Zoe asks sheepishly.
“Being found naked and dead in your apartment tomorrow morning.”
The room briefly falls silent again before I hear the sounds of Nash and Zoe getting out of their bed as told.
“Relax, I’m not here to look at your willy. I’ve got a much bigger one of my own to stare at whenever I want.” Belfast laughs out loud as he taunts Nash.
“Fuck off.” Nash isn’t laughing.
I take a quick, deep breath as I hear them all walking down the hallway toward the kitchen.
“Georgia?” Zoe is the first to see me, followed immediately by Nash.
“Georgia are you oka—” Nash abruptly stops talking when he notices the gun in my hand.
“What’s going on?” Zoe blurts out at me with a helpless look in her eyes.
I raise the gun in her direction. “Sit down.”
“You’re with him?” Nash spits the words out of his mouth like an accusation.
“I said, shut the fuck up.” Belfast grabs Nash by the back of his neck and sticks the barrel of his gun directly up under his chin, pushing until Nash is forced up onto his toes.
“Don’t,” Zoe cries out. “Please?”
Belfast takes the gun away and pushes Nash down onto one of the kitchen chairs and points the gun at Zoe. “Button it up, girly.”
“Don’t point that gun at my wife.” Nash makes a move toward Belfast, who responds by kicking him directly in the balls. The force of the blow lifts Nash off his feet and leaves him writhing in pain on the kitchen floor.
“Please,” Zoe begs as she drops down to the floor beside her husband. “What do you want?”
I step over to Belfast and whisper in his ear. “Was that really necessary?”
“It was a reflex. Why? You’re not getting soft on your old friends are ya?” he teases.
“Me? No, not at all. I’m just wondering how you’re going to make him talk with his balls stuck up in his throat.”
“He’ll be fine.” Belfast looks at Nash rolling around on the floor gasping for air. “We’ll just have to give him a couple of minutes.”
I stand on the opposite side of the room with as annoyed a look on my face as I can muster for the next two minutes.
“Alright, that’ll be enough, lassie.” Belfast gets sick of waiting. Or maybe he’s just sick of me staring at him. Either way, he grabs Zoe by the arm, lifts her off the floor, and deposits her back in the chair she came from.
“Don’t touch her.” Nash leaps up off the floor and lunges at Belfast, who again responds by burying his foot up into Nash’s testicles. It’s harder to watch the second time.
“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” I scold Belfast.
“Now that one, was definitely a mistake.” He smiles at me with an apologetic look on his face.
This time it takes nearly five minutes before Nash can speak again.
“Get out… of my house.” Nash rolls up onto all fours and starts to get up. He sounds angry but is visibly shaky and still weak.
Belfast stops smiling at me and rushes over to him, standing right above both Nash and Zoe. “I’m not sure if you’re brave or maybe you’re just stupid, but you’re just not getting the picture.” He pulls his leg back and kicks Nash three times in the ribs. Each blow comes faster and lands harder than the previous. It’s brutal.
“I’m all done fucking around. The next one of you to move or speak without my permission is going to get punted across the room, picked up, and thrown out the goddamn window.” Belfast pauses and waits, smiling down at them as if he’s inviting either one of them to test him.
“Georgia, make him stop. Why are you doing this?” Zoe shouts at me in tears. “Why?”
For a brief moment I feel pity for my friends. I see the pain in Zoe’s eyes, and I want to take it away. But then I remember Karyn and everything that’s happened since.
“I’ll tell you why. Because Karyn wasn’t just my boss and wasn’t just my mentor. Karyn was my friend, and I will avenge her.”
“Wait. You think we had something to do with Karyn’s death?” Nash speaks up from the floor.
“Is that what all of this is about?” Nash looks over at Belfast who nods back, giving him permission to sit up on the floor. “Why do you think I had something to do with Karyn’s death?”
“Belfast spoke to you by phone that day when all hell broke loose. He told you where I was and told you to come get me—”
“I remember,” Nash interrupts, sounding annoyed. Belfast steps toward him, but I wave him back.
“I see you’ve got him trained.” Nash just can’t help himself.
“But not on a leash.” Belfast continues at him, stopping inches from his face and only after Nash finally flinches and cowers. “Douchebag.”
“Like I was saying… Belfast called you. No one else, just you. And five minutes later, two men came to kill me.”
“By the time we arrived... you were gone and...” Nash speaks hesitantly.
“And we thought…” Zoe looks up at Belfast.
“You thought what?” Belfast looks at each of them separately, and then steps in until he’s inches from Nash’s face again. “You thought I’d leave my girl behind as easy pickings for you and your band of cowards.” Belfast steps back. “No, sir, I waited and watched. And if I’m being honest, I was truly hoping that day you’d ride up and collect my girl. I guess I figured she’d be safer, what with the whole wide world falling down around me at the time and all.” He pauses and reaches over to me, running his hand along my cheek and through my hair.
“But you didn’t show up at all, did ya? You sent some of your goons with guns.” He focuses back in on Nash. “And let me tell you, it was my pleasure to put them down.” Belfast is angry, and I can see that he wants to let it out on Nash right here and now, but he steps back to let me continue.
“You told me you saw his dead body.” I stare straight into his eyes.
“On a video...” Nash tries to explain.
“I saw you with my own eyes, storming into my place last night with an entire hit squad.”
Nash sits up straight against the wall, clutching his ribs. “Georgia, when I found out he was alive,” he points at Belfast, “we thought you were in danger.” He stares at me in disbelief, as if he’s been physically injured by my accusations. “We were there to protect you.”
“That’s my job now,” Belfast cuts in, staring at Nash in a challenging manner, like he’s marking his territory.
“I can see that,” Nash responds with significantly less bass and venom in his voice. “Georgia, you know me, you know us.” He looks at Zoe and then back to me. “Think about it.”
Every instinct I have is telling me to believe him. I’m just not sure it’s my head and not my heart that’s talking.
“What do you think?” I lean in and speak softly.
“I don’t know.” Belfast stares at them both, as if he’s studying their faces for the truth. I wait for his response, unsure of whether he’ll want to believe Nash or behead him.
“You can confirm all of this with Sam,” Nash suggests.
“Yes, call Sam. He’ll tell you,” Zoe agrees.
Belfast raises an eyebrow at me and smirks. “This should be interesting.”
Chapter Thirteen
Belfast
Once Georgia, Nash and Zoe settle down and talk calmly for a spel
l, it doesn’t take them long to figure out we’ve all been chasing our tails.
After breaking into his house and putting a gun to the back of his head while he was having sex with his wife, I now find myself with the surreal experience of standing in Nash Garrison’s kitchen exchanging pleasantries.
It’s definitely been a strange morning. And one I don’t care to repeat any time soon.
“By the way, I owe you for putting the boots to me—and we will settle up one day.” He glances side-eye at me. “I can promise you that.”
It’s obvious he’s still furious, despite the fact that we’re all trying to play in the same sandbox now. Way to hold a grudge, Nash.
“Relax, honey,” Zoe cautions.
I smirk. “Yeah, hun, relax. It’d be a damn shame to get your ass kicked again so soon.”
“Thank you,” Zoe steps in between us, “for taking care of Georgia.”
“Believe me, Georgie can take care of herself.”
She smiles at me for the first time. “I know that, but I can see she means a lot to you.”
“A lot?” I can't help but laugh. “I’d murder my way through this city, killing every man, woman, and child in it, just so I could exhale my last breath at her side.”
“That’s because you’re a criminal with no morals,” Nash rudely interrupts our quiet moment of conversation, “and murdering comes easy to people like you.”
“Keep talking shit, Garrison, and give me a reason to get started right here.”
“Can I talk to you?” Georgia grabs my hand and leads me into the living room.
“Are you okay with all of this?” She’s worried.
“Which part?” I chuckle and pull her into my arms to allay her fears.
Her arms wrap around my waist. “Are we wrong for trusting them?”
“No, Nash seems legit.” I pick her chin up gently and kiss her bowed lips. “And if things do go sideways, luv, I promise you we’ll be the only ones walking out of this apartment.”
The door buzzer in the front lobby cracks over a speaker by the door, interrupting us all.
“That’ll be Mikey.” I stop Nash from answering the call. “It’d probably be best if I do the talking where Mikey is concerned. He doesn’t like strangers. Or most people in general.”
“Fine, you get it then.” Nash is pissed. “But Sam better be with him and he better be okay.”
He just can’t help himself can he?
Georgia and I exchange a harsh look as I step over and buzz Mikey into the building. Things are about to get tense, again. Or should I say more tense considering how thick the air feels right now?
Two minutes pass before they walk into the apartment.
“Mikey.” I step aside to let him in.
“Brennan.” He walks by pulling a still restrained and hooded Agent Beck along behind him.
“What the fuck?” Nash shouts at me.
“Oh c’mon, Georgia, take that off.” Zoe isn’t happy about it either.
“Relax, he’s fine.” I pull the hood up and off Sam’s head. “See?”
“Get those off his wrists and ankles,” Nash barks at Mikey, who completely ignores him.
“Nash? Zoe? What’s happening?” Sam opens his eyes, blinking repeatedly. Confused by his surroundings, as well as the collection of people currently in them, he slowly looks around.
“Jesus. Look at his face. What the fuck did you do to him?” Nash turns to me with a little bit of fresh bass in his voice.
“Your boy Sam wasn’t in a particularly talkative mood.” I smile and shrug with palms overturned. “It would seem that the object of his affection has let him down.”
“Get these off me.” Sam starts to get excited as Nash clips the zip ties from his hands and feet.
“Was it really necessary to leave these on all this time? For Christ’s sake, your guy walked a bound man into my home with a hood over his head in broad daylight.” Nash looks at me like he actually wants an answer.
I turn to Mikey, who responds immediately.
“Ya said bring this fella here. I brought him here.” Mikey shrugs his shoulders.
“And there you have it.” I turn back to face Nash. “Maybe you should just be glad he’s all in one piece, for now.”
“You motherfu—” Sam lunges at me in a fit of rage and almost makes it. His hands are inches from my throat when his nuts run into the toe of my boot. He crumbles to the floor, clutching his genitals in a heap of complete agony.
“Honestly, does the FBI encourage you boys to lead with the twig and berries, or is it just an American thing?” I look to Mikey for an answer.
“Maybe they should consider cups,” Mikey suggests, dryly.
“It might be worth a try, right?” I agree with a deep laugh. “I mean, it’s gotta be better than getting kicked in the testicles on the regular.”
“You’d think so,” Mikey agrees.
“You think you’re funny?” Nash squares up in front of me while Zoe crouches down and tends to Sam on the floor.
“Stop,” Georgia cuts in again. “Arguing isn’t going to get us anywhere. We have to find a way to work together, or we don’t stand a chance.”
“You all heard the lady, get your shit together, people,” I bark at Nash, Zoe, and Sam, as if I didn’t just kick a man in the balls for the third time today, in this very room.
“I know you don’t like these men, but they’re not the enemy right now. At least we think they’re not, right?” Georgia speaks quietly with me while the others tend to Sam and his swollen nuts.
“I don’t trust them, Georgie, None of ’em.”
“I’m not sure I do either, but I do know that I trust you.” She reaches up and wraps her arms around my neck. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. So if you tell me we’re better off without them, we walk, right here, right now.”
“Just you and me?”
“Just you and me.” Georgia doesn’t even blink.
“I can’t say I’m surprised, really,” I tease her.
“And why is that?”
“Well, you can’t possibly feel safe with these lads watching your back. I bet you wouldn’t even last ten minutes with them. Hell, every time the shit hits the fan, they seem to hit the floor.” I speak loud enough for the rest to hear.
“So what’s it going to be?” Georgia looks into my eyes, and I know she means it. She really would leave with me right now, just the two of us. And that’s enough for me.
“Let’s see this thing through, luv.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“Then how about you let me go talk with them for a few minutes and you can go keep Mikey company. He looks bored.”
“Mikey doesn’t get bored.”
“What’s he doing then? He hasn’t moved since he got here. Is he sleeping standing up with his eyes open?” she jokes.
“He’s probably waiting.”
“Waiting? For what?”
“I’d say he’s waiting for me to tell him whether or not we’re gonna kill these three.”
“Is he really?” Georgia looks back and forth between me and Mikey.
“He is,” I assure her. “Mikey’s as dangerous as they come, Georgie. I can promise you that.”
“I like him.” She kisses me and walks over to talk with her FBI friends.
“I like her too,” Mikey speaks quietly without even looking in my direction.
We both lean against the wall in the living room while Georgia and the others catch up.
“You let me know, Bren.” Once again he speaks so only I can hear him and without so much as a glance in my direction. “I’m ready, either way.”
“I know you are, Mikey.” I keep a watchful eye on Georgia in the next room. “And I will.”
We stand in silence, observe, and listen for the next twenty minutes as Georgia brings her friends up to speed on what’s really been happening.
What Georgia and I don’t know, Nash an
d the others are able to piece together.
“I know this man.” I stop Zoe on an image as she scrolls through agency file photos on a hunch.
“Nash, Georgia, who’s this? He looks familiar,” Zoe calls out to the kitchen.
Nash hurries over and immediately recognizes the man I’ve pointed out. “That’s Matthew Strauss. Up until just recently, he was second in command of the mobile tac response team that was assigned to Boston after Karyn’s murder.”
“Was?” Georgia asks Nash, who looks at me.
“That’s the man I knew as Green,” I explain my connection.
“So it was you? You killed all those men up on the North Shore?” Sam asks me directly.
I’m not in the habit of admitting crimes of any kind, much less multiple homicides, to any lawman. So I say nothing. The tension in the apartment instantly thickens as Nash, Sam, and I exchange long, hard stares.
“Thank you.” Zoe steps in, defusing the moment, and hugs me.
“For what?” I’m confused.
“I was supposed to be meeting Christopher Marx, the Deputy Director of Counterintelligence, for a briefing on the bombing that day,” Nash offers. “And at that location.”
“Well, that doesn’t exactly leave much room for interpretation, does it?” I throw the question out to everyone in the room. Georgia nods in agreement without hesitation. She knows all too well and first hand what her friends are now figuring out.
I watch Nash, Sam, and Zoe, and I can see the wheels turning in their heads. They’re beginning to realize the full weight and scale of what we’re up against.
“We need to attack this internally, through the proper channels.” Nash begins laying out his plan. “On Monday, we gather at the office and contact—”
“Let’s go,” I cut him off and hold out my hand to Georgia, and she slides her palm into mine. Mikey is already standing by the door.
“Wait, what are you doing?” Nash pauses his in charge act.
“We’re gonna leave you three to go ahead and get yourselves killed.” I keep walking to the door.
“Stop. What’s wrong with handling it internally? I have connections that I trust in D.C. We report what we have up the chain,” Nash continues explaining himself to us, and we stop at the door. “That’s how it works, right?” He looks around the room for support, but no one speaks up to agree.
