by Layla Reyne
“I told you I would do whatever it takes. I won’t let you lose someone else you love.”
“What happened to ‘partners, always’? We should talk about this.”
“Baby, we don’t have time.” He closed the space between them and framed Aidan’s face in his hands. “I’ll be your partner, Irish, always, badge or not.”
Aidan’s hands circled his wrists. “You shouldn’t have to give up your career.”
“You’re a better field agent than me.” Jamie shut up his retort with a quick, hard kiss. “Yes, I can drive a car better than you, and I can make the shot when needed, but you’re a natural out there. I’m a natural behind a computer or on the court. You’ve said so yourself. And I want to be with you. Completely. Out, proud, by your side at a bar, at family get-togethers, at office parties. That will never happen if we’re both still in the Bureau, especially as partners.”
Aidan’s eyes scrunched closed. “Jamie...”
Leaning forward, Jamie pressed their foreheads together. “But more than all that, if I don’t do everything I can to save Katie, I will never be able to hold my head up to your family, to you, or to my own nieces and family.” His hands drifted down to Aidan’s neck, landing over his hammering pulse. “Let me do this, baby. Please.”
Aidan pulled back and stared into his eyes, as if making sure he knew what he was saying, what he was proposing. But Jamie understood, completely. The choice he’d made once before had come back around. He made the same one now—to love Aidan, stand by his side and make a home with him—though now the road to that place took a different path. But so long as Aidan was at the end of it, whole and complete, which meant doing whatever Jamie could to rescue one of the most important people to him, then yes, he understood exactly what he was doing.
There was no other choice to make.
That clarity, that determination, must have shown because Aidan closed the distance between them again, whispering, “Thank you,” against his lips.
Cam appeared around the corner, clearing his throat. “I know better than to argue when you’ve set your mind to something, so I’ll only ask once... You’re sure about this?”
Jamie moved to Aidan’s side, an arm slung low and tight around his waist. “I’m sure, as long as I know you’ve got his back.”
Cam clasped their shoulders. “I’ve got both your backs, always.”
Chapter Seventeen
Jamie slid into the Federal Building elevator behind Mel, pressed the button for the eleventh floor, and slapped a jammer onto the control panel. While security could see them, they couldn’t hear. A temporary sound outage.
“Are you sure about this?” Jamie asked, once the cab started climbing. “You’ve been SAC less than a year. Everything you’ve worked for...”
Hands folded behind her, Mel reclined against the cab wall, the casual posture uncharacteristic. “I made my decision the second I chose to keep that flash drive secret. I decided what was most important to me, and that wasn’t—isn’t—a desk job.”
“Family,” he said with a smile. “And Danny?”
They’d left their third in the parking garage in a surveillance van with Lauren, just outside the freight elevator, with a jammer that would block sound and picture, in case reinforcements were necessary.
“Only cemented it.” She rolled her eyes, at herself. “Forty-five and in love for the first time. Makes me crazy.”
Jamie felt more than a modicum of sympathy. He’d been in love before, with Derrick, but what he felt for Aidan was stronger, unlike anything, and since falling for him, he’d done more than a few crazy things.
“Are you sure?” Mel asked, tone more serious. “You’re thirty-one, Jamie. You could press the button for the thirteenth floor, go to your office and fight to keep your job. You’re not a black hat. All that software can be explained as white hat observation for the Bureau, on my orders. And Nic can make the assault charge go away.”
“This isn’t something I only just thought about.”
She arched a brow. “The CU case?”
He nodded. “I miss the game, and I loved coaching. I didn’t realize how much, on either account, until I was there doing it. And teams are interested.”
She lifted the other brow. “As in multiple?”
“CU, numerous AD voicemails, and an inquiry from a teammate who’s at St. Mary’s now. If I ask Coach Taylor to make some calls, I can get more.” Though if St. Mary’s came through, it’d be near impossible to sway him elsewhere. Not when he could have everything he wanted right here in the Bay Area—a D1 coaching job, Aidan, a home and life together.
“You have thought about this,” Mel said.
“More than a little. If Aidan hadn’t given me another shot, I wouldn’t have wanted to work at the Bureau without him.”
“And now that he has?”
“I don’t want to hide how happy I am that he did.” He couldn’t contain his smile. “As a coach, I can make a difference in kids’ lives. I can be a role model, something I was too afraid to be when I left the game. I don’t have to run anymore. And now that I know someone I trust will have Aidan’s back...”
“Cam?”
“I’d love to have him out here, and he can lead K&R from anywhere. Plus, he and Aidan work well together.”
“I’ve noticed that.”
“Maybe I can consult, if they ever need a gray hat.” While he wasn’t a black hat, he wasn’t a pure white hat either.
As the elevator slowed, Mel pushed off the wall and stood in front of the doors. “Last chance.”
He snagged the jammer off the control panel. “Let’s get crazy.”
The doors opened to the US Attorney’s office and a waiting Nic.
He wasn’t alone.
“I don’t see Renaud with you,” Bowers griped. “And now there’s another fugitive on the loose.”
“Renaud is dead,” Mel said.
“He was more valuable to us alive.”
“He tried to kill all of us,” Jamie said. “Including one of your own.”
Mel lifted a hand, staying further argument. “We have a plan to retrieve Oscar Torres, and together with Westley, they’ll clear Agent Talley.”
“Price told me about your plan. No way in hell am I turning over my suspect to you so you can lose him too.” His beady gaze shifted to Jamie. “And who’s going to clear you?”
Before Jamie could reply, Nic stepped to his side, facing off against his boss. “There’s a little girl’s life on the line.”
“If Torres wants Westley bad enough, he’ll wait. Find another way.” Bowers turned on his heel and stormed off.
“Nic—” Jamie started.
“Come with me,” Nic said, as cool and controlled as ever. Rather than leading them across the main bullpen to the holding rooms at the far end, Nic guided them through a side door and into a hall of private offices, or maybe war rooms, judging by the stacks of file boxes. They ducked into one with Nic’s name on the door.
“Torres expects us to make the trade in thirty,” Mel said. “He’s not going to wait.”
“He’s desperate, Nic,” Jamie said, “And he hates Aidan. We can’t take the chance he’ll do something out of spite or panic. This is Katie. She’s as close as Aidan has to a child of his own.”
“You don’t think I know that,” Nic snapped, his composed demeanor cracking.
“If you ever felt anything for him, please.”
Turning his back on them, Nic stared out the window and clasped the back of his bowed neck. After a long moment, he dropped the arm, released a big breath, and rotated back around. “You got someone who can pick a lock?”
“I’ve got just the guy,” Mel said.
Nic drummed his fingers on the closest banker’s box. “I moved Westley
into a different holding room. The one closest to the freight elevator.”
“Across from the bathrooms?” Jamie said, assuming the setup was the same as on their floor.
“That’s right. I’m going to go talk to Bowers again. Make another plea.” Or provide a distraction. “While you two use the restroom before leaving. I’ll buy you a few minutes.”
“That’s more than enough time,” Mel said. Danny could pick the lock in under twenty seconds.
Nic led them back out to the lobby. Before they entered the main bullpen, Jamie grasped his arm. “Thank you, Dominic. For everything.”
“I did care for him.”
“I know you did.” Jamie owed him the acknowledgment, same as he’d owed him the apology the other night. “Call Lauren; she’ll keep you updated.”
He nodded, then gestured toward the restroom with a whispered, “Good luck.”
They walked as Mel texted Danny, holding the phone so Jamie could see. You got your lock pick set?
Always.
Use the spare access card I gave you. Take the freight elevator to the eleventh floor. We’ll meet you there.
She pocketed the phone and glanced over her shoulder. “Last time I’ll ask, are you sure?”
He didn’t have to think about the answer. It was the same as the first time she’d asked him to have Aidan’s back.
“Yes.”
* * *
“They’re five minutes out with Westley.” Lauren’s voice crackled through the comm in Aidan’s ear, the afternoon drizzle that had fittingly replaced the morning sun creating interference. “Jamie’s texted Oscar. Be on the lookout for his approach.”
“We’re in place,” Byrne replied, adjusting the dials on a pair of high-powered binoculars.
Behind AT&T Park’s giant outfield scoreboard, they lay flat atop the cement steps overlooking Marina Gate. From this position, they had a full view of the palm tree-dotted promenade and the marina beyond.
“I’ll radio when they’re here,” Lauren said.
“We’ll radio with any movement back here.”
Back here.
A wide-open area with multiple points of entry and civilians milling about. Past lunch hour, in the drizzly mist that had moved in after the morning sun, the bystanders had dwindled but the area wasn’t totally deserted. A tour group had passed through not five minutes ago.
Aidan adjusted the straps on his Kevlar vest. “How the fuck are we supposed to tactically handle this?”
“Carefully.” Byrne lowered the binoculars and glanced over, calm and focused. All-business when the situation called for it, one of the Bureau’s best. “Given his background as an agent, Torres knows to do the exchange in public. And the marina makes for an easy getaway.”
Half full as it was this time of year, a boat could easily slip in and out. “You think he’s traveling by water now?”
“His plane is gone, so that exit strategy is shot. He’ll also know we put out an APB and locked down the airports, roads and trains.”
“He knows all our protocols.”
Byrne nodded. “Less potential roadblocks by water.”
And from there, Torres would know how to disappear off the radar. Protégé to a ghost, a former FBI agent with training and connections, a hacker who could erase his existence and create a whole new identity, no doubt with the help of his alias-loving partner in crime. If they didn’t catch Torres and Westley here, they’d be gone for good.
Possibly with Aidan’s goddaughter, if the exchange didn’t go as planned.
Definitely with the testimony needed to help clear Mel and Jamie.
Cleared already, Aidan was determined to see his best friend and his lover also absolved. He wouldn’t let Mel and Jamie be forced out of the Bureau because of the mess he’d unwittingly stepped into. Because of his late husband’s mistakes. They’d both worked too hard to get where they were. And if they made a real choice to leave, something Aidan still couldn’t wrap his head around, he wanted Mel and Jamie cleared of all wrongdoing so they could go on with their lives.
And he could go on with his, with Jamie.
Jamie wouldn’t be in this situation at all if not for him, if they hadn’t been partnered, if Aidan had kept his distance. But as much as Aidan knew he should, he didn’t regret any of it. Not when weighed against the man and partner he’d come to know, the love he’d won, the life he wanted. But he didn’t want that life marred by the ruin of Jamie’s career, criminal charges or, God forbid, something happening to him or Katie.
This handoff had to be textbook. “Jamie’s set on the exchange?” he asked.
“He’s got it. I coached him through it before they left.”
This was the one situation he’d never wanted to need Byrne for—one of his nieces in jeopardy, his goddaughter, his Katie—and Byrne was there without question, off protocol and bending rules to lend his expertise. He would have answered his call regardless, but not only was the Bureau’s best K&R agent next to him, so was a friend. Another reason he was glad for Jamie in his life.
Aidan squeezed the other man’s shoulder. “Thank you for your help.”
“Thank me when we get Katie back.”
When, not if.
Byrne was confident, which helped settle Aidan’s nerves.
Until he pointed at the marina where a sleek mini-yacht glided into a slip. “That’s him.”
“Does he have Katie?”
Byrne passed him the binoculars and Aidan peered through them, spotting Torres on deck, throwing ropes onto dock posts. Aidan swept the deck, and in the far right corner, he found her. Katie, thumb in her mouth, eyes and nose red, green Care Bear clutched to her chest. With the high-powered lenses, he could see the tear tracks glistening on her pale cheeks.
Anger flooded his veins, propelled him to his hands and knees, on the way to rising, on the way to get his niece out of that asshole’s clutches.
Byrne’s arm slammed him to the ground. “Can you do this?” he asked, dark eyes grave and questioning. “Can you be Agent Talley and not Uncle Aidan, because if you can’t, I’m sidelining your ass to the van with Lauren. I won’t have you risk this operation.”
No way could he sit in the van and listen to the scene unfold. He needed to be here, watching his partner’s back, rescuing Katie, and making sure Torres finally got his due. He ground his teeth and swallowed his anger, forcing Uncle Aidan back and drawing forward Agent Talley. He could do this, for Jamie and Katie. “I’m good, but let’s move down the steps, so we’re ready.”
Byrne held his stare, assessing his resolve. “Fine, but stay low.”
Aidan crept halfway down, as Byrne radioed in. “We’ve got eyes on Torres and Katie.”
“And I’ve got eyes on Jamie and Westley,” Lauren replied. Jamie was fitted with a vest and comm too, but he wasn’t communicating, hiding the fact he was wired from Westley. “They’re coming in past the Second Street Gate and player parking lot. You should see them in ten, nine...”
Mel interrupted her countdown. “I’m converging from the other side, approaching from Third. Danny’s behind me, keeping pedestrians back.”
“Nic’s doing the same on this side,” Lauren radioed back.
“Just a few remaining on the promenade,” Byrne added.
Aidan only vaguely registered their practical back and forth, his attention riveted on Torres dragging Katie off the boat and up the floating dock. His big hand was wrapped around her little wrist, yanking her wriggling outstretched arm. It had to hurt. Aidan clutched the stair rail, forcing himself still.
Katie stopped resisting, though, when Jamie appeared around the far corner. “Uncle Jamie!” She made to run and Torres jerked her back.
Aidan’s knuckles went white.
“Steady, Talley,” Byrne whisper
ed above. Then to Jamie, “Reassure Katie. Calm her down.”
“Everything’s going to be okay, Princess,” Jamie said. “Can you be a good girl for me? I need you be real quiet and do as I say. Can you do that for me?”
She quieted, eyes locked on Jamie as she held her Care Bear tight.
“Of course you’d risk it all for him,” Torres said. “Talley’s not good enough for you.”
Jamie ignored the dig. “You’re risking freedom, everything, for him.” Holding Westley by the upper arm, Jamie gave him a shake. “You know what partners means. You could have been long gone by now.”
“We’re alone?”
“As you demanded.”
“Give him to me.” Torres’s gaze remained locked on Jamie, not once straying to Westley. Not cataloguing the injuries or condition of his partner. Odd. Jamie was the first place Aidan looked any time after they’d been separated by danger.
“Simultaneous release,” Byrne coached.
“You know how this works,” Jamie said. “Let them go at the same time.”
“Jamie, stay sharp.” Byrne’s voice took on a sudden edge that set off Aidan’s alarm bells. “I don’t think he’s here to rescue Westley.”
“What?” Aidan exclaimed in a low tone.
“He’s here to tie up loose ends,” Byrne replied. “Jamie, don’t let Westley go until Torres releases Katie. Then get down, on one knee, and tell her to run to you. She hits your arms, get low and clear. We’ve got you covered.”
Like a movie in slow motion, Aidan witnessed the terrifying scene unfold. Jamie remained calm, the complete opposite of Aidan’s panic.
“We gonna do this?” he said to Torres.
The former agent reached behind his back, and Aidan went for his sidearm, drawing it out and clicking off the safety. Byrne did the same above him, aiming the barrel of his gun over the platform ledge they hid behind.
“Let her go, Oscar,” Jamie repeated.
Aidan held his breath, finger skirting the trigger.
Torres released Katie’s arm, and Jamie let go of Westley’s. Kneeling, he threw open his arms. “Run, Katie-girl!”
