by BA Tortuga
Duncan rumbled softly, then dragged him up into a fierce, wild kiss. Better. Much better. Cowboy wanted that man thinking about him and only him, at least until they got moving and got the pale redhead settled. If the poor guy could be settled.
If they could manage that without Duncan tearing the boat apart or Jay-Jay blowing something sky-high or him and the redneck killing each other, it’d be a fucking miracle.
Too bad Cowboy didn’t believe in miracles. Sometimes it would be nice to go on a little faith.
Chapter Thirty-Two
MOTHERFUCK.
Jackoff asshole fucking bastard.
MJ paced the deck, periodically looking down into the belly of the yacht where Big, Bad, and Bulgy was defending Cowboy, then peeking in at Paddy before walking past Sonny.
He was going to get the Brit back, and then he was going to drop Cowboy and the professor on a deserted island, get Sonny really stoned at Ma’s, and then blow the Program so high that there wouldn’t be so much as bone fragments left to identify the bodies by.
Then he’d go back, pick Sonny up, and they were going to buy an island—not the same one he left Cowboy on, either—and they were going to make homemade rum and fuck and drink and smoke dope for fifteen or twenty years.
God damn it.
Sonny reached out and snagged him about the eighth time he walked by. “Making a plan, Precious?”
“Yep.” Not that Sonny would approve of his plan, he imagined. Sonny was oddly bitchy about plans that involved staying behind and waiting.
“Swell, you can just wipe the part about leaving me somewhere right off your mental dry-erase board.”
Case in point.
He stopped, looked at Sonny. Now, if everyone on this fucking boat started reading minds, he was selling it to the circus and buying a Cessna.
“Precious, don’t look at me like that. I know you.” Sonny winked, thumb rubbing his wrist.
“I know. It’s going to happen, you know. I have to…. Uh….” He caught himself relaxing, eyes trapped by the way Sonny’s thumb moved, nice and easy. It was like some weird redneck meditation exercise.
Like NASCAR, but with fewer tires and closer proximity.
“I know what we have to do. I have my own dry-erase board. Don’t you worry.” That felt good, especially when Sonny brought his hand up and kissed his wrist.
“Mmm.” His eyes got droopy. “I think you’re cheating. I was having a pace.”
“All’s fair. Why wear yourself out alone when you can do it with me?” Sonny licked, then bit, just a tiny sting.
“You may have a point.” His fingers curled instinctively. Oral bastard. Beautiful, strong, oral….
“Neil!”
The scream had him jerking around, the ship actually seeming to roll a little at the sound of Rick’s voice. He started running as the screams got louder, more hysterical. “Get the med kit, Sonny!”
“On it.” Sonny had his back. He could hear the big guy right behind him, along with footsteps coming up the steps from below, but he ignored them, heading right for the wheelhouse. “Rick. Rick, come on. Wake up, man!”
The problem was, it didn’t look like the little geek was asleep. Fuck, no. It looked like the kid was wide-awake, fingers tearing at his face, eyes wide open. “Neil! Stop it! Stop it!”
“Fuck me raw.” He launched himself onto the man, slamming both of them down onto the deck as he grabbed Rick’s wrists. “Come on. Come on, man. Focus. Focus on me. Sonny, I need you, man!”
“I’m here. Hold him still.”
“What do you need, Jay-Jay?” Cowboy pushed up next to him, helping him hold Rick down even as Sonny pulled up a syringe.
“That helps. Jesus, he’s not in there. What did we give him, Sonny? Nothing we didn’t do before, huh?”
That fucking scream just kept going and going, Rick fighting them like they were torturing him.
“I don’t think it’s him, Precious.” Mouth set in a grim line, Sonny jabbed the needle into Rick’s hip, pushing hard enough that he heard the scrape.
He tried to get Rick’s attention, shaking the man hard enough that Rick’s head bounced off the deck. “Rick. Kid, come on. Come on, now. You’re going to rip your vocal chords, and then you can’t help him. Do you hear me?”
MJ could feel it in Rick’s muscles, the second the drug started to take hold.
“Hold him, damn it.” Cowboy growled it at Sonny and him, and then stiffened fingers jabbed right into Rick’s solar plexus and there was no more waiting for the drugs. Kid was out cold.
“Thanks.” He pulled back, blood running ice-cold in his veins. Fuck.
Fuck.
Okay.
Fuck.
They pulled Neil from England. It had been, what? Four days? Five? The son of a bitch could be anywhere, and the one man that could actually have any contact at all was out cold.
Okay.
Think.
What did they want? Why take the Brit? MJ was fairly sure he knew the answer to that. In fact, MJ’d have to say he knew that answer pretty damned well, and any and every person who he worked with would be compromised. Rick. Sonny. Cowboy.
The Colonel. Ma.
“Precious?” Sonny’s hand landed on his shoulder. “I think we need to get moving, honey. What’s the plan?”
“We get the hell away from here. I make some phone calls, and we figure out how to keep Rick awake long enough to find the Brit.” If it made the kid insane, Neil could deal with it later.
Hell, the little firebug might be way more fun insane.
Maybe.
Christ, his head hurt.
“Okay. Okay. You and Cowboy get Rick out of my way, and I’ll get us on a good course.”
Sonny was good to have. No matter what.
He nodded and grabbed Rick’s feet, letting Cowboy get the head end. “We’re going to have to use him, babe. He’s obviously still connected to the Brit. You’ll love him, by the way. He reads minds. I’m going to shoot him someday.”
“Who reads minds? Not this one.” Cowboy was a good thing to have too, even if his man was a freak of the highest rank. What was it with his old buddies and their genetically altered boyfriends?
“No. His boyfriend. I think the guy’s in your line of work, but I never could be sure.” They got Rick onto a deck chair and started strapping the man down, for his own protection. “They’ve got a bead on each other, though. I don’t know why.”
“Huh. Well, after what I’ve seen with the Doc, I’m willing to believe the unexplained.” Cowboy winked, hands moving slow and sure over Rick’s body so MJ didn’t have to frisk the man.
“Yeah. He knew my real name. As in, the one I was born with.” He opened one of Rick’s eyes, looked in. The man was still trying to fight, in his head.
“No shit?” Now Cowboy sounded impressed. Asshole.
“No shit. Where’s your boy? He got impressively puffy.” MJ could think of a number of ways to use that. “Hey, did you contact that job via email? Do you have any clue of a base?”
“He’s sleeping off the puffy. Once he crashes, you can do a brass band imitation….” He could see Cowboy calculating. “I got a call. Through a source I only use occasionally.”
“Huh. I have a hunch that your client may have just stolen something that belongs to our buddy, here.”
“I swear, Jay-Jay. We need to clear these guys out. They got a real hard-on for you.”
“You know it.” He lowered his voice. “I think they’ll be going for my mom next. She’s the only one left, barring the random tattoo artist.”
If they got to Dad, he could cope. The man’s brain had been gone for ten years, the Alzheimer’s taken over. Mom, though….
He’d have to send Cowboy after his mom. Sonny wouldn’t do it, not and leave him, and he needed Sonny to deal with Neil, if the man was still in one piece. Growly as it made him, Sonny had a way. His Sunshine was a stud.
“What I can’t figure is what I have that they want so
bad. There are other flashbangs out there.” Maybe not many that could work a job like he could, but they did exist.
“Are they from your Program? Did they manage to escape being left for dead how many times?”
Man, sometimes he forgot how much Cowboy knew about him. The man could be deceptively forgetful, and then, boom, he remembered everything.
“No. No, there aren’t many of us left. Shit, Cowboy, there weren’t many to begin with. Paula, Greg, and me—we were the beginning. Your boy came at the end, when they were altering….” He stopped, tilted his head. “You figure they did something to Rick? Maybe to me? No, it was too new then, although the Russians were experimenting in the fifties, the CIA in the sixties with shit….”
His brain started going a million miles a minute. What had they done to him? What the fuck was going on?
“I don’t know. You’re a little unnatural sometimes, Jay.” Cowboy stared down at Rick, one finger tapping on one leg. “What about this Brit? You think he’s like the Doc? Genetically engineered?”
“I don’t know shit about him, but he didn’t seem to know about the Program, and would it reach to the UK? I mean, this feels like NSA or Defense. He called it the Foundation. And what did your boy call it?”
“Duncan called it some sort of school. Like a university.” Cowboy nodded once, sharply. “If we had a program, then it’s not a reach to think the Brits did too. That Greg might know about it when none of y’all do. You said he was the only one still in deep, yeah?”
“Yeah. If he’s still alive. I tried really hard to blow him up a few months ago.”
“Huh.” He could see the wheels turning again. “Well, if he’s still alive, we need to take him out.”
“Yes. I want to watch it.” He wanted to finish it. For good. “So, we have Mom in California. Rick was in California. Duncan was in California. If it was me, I’d’ve moved what was left. You?”
“Yeah. But you can’t move an operation that big without leaving a trail.” Cowboy clapped him on the back. “I’ll get on it. I don’t like people knowing who I am.”
“I hear you. I hate having a target painted on my ass.” Worse than almost anything.
Almost.
Rotting in a box was worse.
“This one is pretty much out. I can zip-tie him, you want. Go see your man. Make your plans.”
Cowboy was a good buddy. Really.
“Okay.” He clapped Cowboy on the shoulder. “You’re good to me, babe. We were careful with your professor. No bruises. No violence. He didn’t even feel the shot.”
See? He was trying to be nice.
Sort of.
“He’s fine.” Winking, Cowboy pushed him on the butt, the touch friendly but not too familiar. “Go on, huh?”
“Yeah.” He headed up to Sonny, brain working. Why now? Why him? Where did they go? Where did they take the Brit? Were they going to grab Mom?
He could hear Paula’s voice in the back of his head, all smoke and whiskey and fury. “MJ, baby. Fucking focus. He’s smart. Smart as we are. Smart and mean. Like a snake. Where does a snake go when he’s wounded?”
“To ground. They go to ground, Paula.” He chewed his bottom lip, a thousand scenarios playing out for him.
“Who are you talking to, Precious?” Sonny was at the wheel, staring out to sea, but one hand reached for him automatically.
“Myself. Sort of. I was just remembering someone. Paula. You would have loved her. She was an evil, hard bitch.” He’d loved her, a little desperately.
“I don’t know. Sometimes I’m not fond of people you’ve had a thing with.” Sonny smiled a little, the corners of his mouth lifting, those amazing eye-lines crinkling. “So, what’s the plan?”
“Cowboy’s doing some research. I think they’re going after Mom. Maybe my dad, although that’s less of an issue. I’m going to find that smarmy bastard, and I’m going to cut his throat and watch him bleed out.” Oh, that sounded like fun.
“I’ll help.” Sonny gave him an unreadable look. “Might have more than one person to do that to, huh?”
“Probably. Although I’d be satisfied just getting rid of them. I need to cut the head off—at some point, whoever’s funding them’s going to take notice and drop them.” Right?
“Something like that.” Sonny reeled him in a little, settling him against one hip. “How you doing?”
“I’m fucking freaked-out, Sunshine. What if they started the shit with the professor as early as Rick?” As early as him? What had they done to Greg? What if they had more things in him? What if things weren’t like he thought they were? Damn it, he’d been out of their reach for fifteen years, almost.
“Well, you’re not the Hulk, huh? You got out. Rick and the Doc didn’t.” That sounded so reasonable. Reassuring. Until Sonny snorted. “Likely, you’re the reason they upped the security and the level of control.”
“Undoubtedly. You should have seen the mess I left behind. I destroyed four buildings, leveled one completely without even singeing the surrounding foliage.” It had rocked.
“Better than you did with that terrible fire you set when you met me, huh?”
Oh, asshole. “It was controlled.”
Sort of.
Besides, they were loggers.
“Of course it was. It was when I blew my cabin that we went up in flames.” And Sonny had kidnapped him….
“It was a good trick, though, hmm? We went to Wilmington.” He still didn’t eat Sonny’s eggs.
“Uh-huh. It was. So was the way I got you on that plane.” That was still a sore point, and Sonny knew it. Rubbed it in.
“Fucker. I don’t fly.” Just the thought of being trapped in a metal tube in the air without windows that could open made his stomach clench.
“No? I was thinking we should go to Switzerland or something. Someplace with snow, since neither of us is used to it…. You want morphine or ketamine?”
Asshole.
“Fuck you. No planes.” He goosed Sonny hard, relaxing a little. “None. Zero.”
“One plane? That’s almost none.”
“Almost only counts in C-4 and cyanide gas.”
“Grenades. Don’t forget grenades.” The man did know how to make him smile, damn it.
“I’m sorry they found me, man. Fucked your life up a little.” Of course, it was that ex of Sonny’s that gave him up….
“It’s mutual. But it works for us, huh?” Sonny squeezed his hand, thumb rubbing across his skin.
“Yeah.” He nodded, smiling a little. Just a little. “You sure you won’t let me drop you off at Mom’s while I fuck up the bad guys?”
“No. We can send your buddy to your mom.” Sonny’s dark eyes burned into his, serious as a heart attack.
“Yeah. That’s the plan.” Mom’d love Duncan. That would amuse the fuck out of her.
“Cool. Then I come with you. Solid.” Sonny was solid. For sure.
“Okay. You come with me. We do the job, get the Brit, create mass chaos, and get out. Deal?”
“Sounds like a plan, Precious. You know I always know when it’s time to go, huh?” Sonny sounded so sure. So ready.
“You are my best getaway plan. Ever.” He meant it.
“Then that settles that.” Sonny leaned against him a bit, an expert at driving with one hand. “I got your back, Precious.”
“How about my front?”
“That too. I do love all of you.”
“Well, then. Let’s get this shit done.” He wasn’t sure exactly what the next step was, but between all of them, he’d figure it.
Somehow.
Chapter Thirty-Three
COWBOY SETTLED next to a still-sleeping Duncan, his hand on one lean hip. No more bulgy. That was probably a good thing. Sighing, he rolled his head on his neck and tried to figure out how to get ahold of his contacts. Email might be out for a while. Satellite phone might piss MJ off. No way was his cell going to do it….
Duncan’s eyes popped open, dark as night. “Mmm.
Colby. You’re back. I was worried. I have an evil headache. You okay?”
“I’m fine. I have some calls to make, but it’s okay. How are you?”
“I’ll live. I…. Did I have a migraine or something?”
“More like an anxiety attack, honey.” Cowboy patted Duncan’s hip. “We got separated for a while.”
“Oh, I don’t tend to anxiety. Still, it’s good to see you. Your friends are a little… intense.” Duncan scooted closer, hands mapping his chest, his belly.
“You think?” Yeah, he thought so too.
“I know. Did you go pick up the guy you were supposed to? Is he okay?”
“I did and not really. He’s in tough shape.” Barely coherent, then not at all.
“What are we in, situation-wise? I’m feeling extremely Alice through the looking glass here, Colby.”
Cowboy grunted, knowing he’d never get the Doc to believe him. “There’s a whole conspiracy thing going on, Doc. You and Jay-Jay and the redheaded kid were all part of some government experiment.”
“Our government?” Duncan tilted his head, want lines appearing between his eyes. “Why? I mean, what on earth do I have to offer a government? I’m a queer lit professor. My talents include Baudelaire, Miller, cooking Tuscan food, and giving blowjobs.”
Grinning wide, Cowboy nodded. “Fuck like a dream too.”
“This is not a skill searched for by the United States government, you know.” Duncan pinched him, chuckling under his breath.
“No? Are you sure?” Look at that blush. “I bet the Marines would beg to differ.”
“Oh God. Can you imagine that?” Duncan rolled his eyes, but Colby got himself another laugh. “Me and a cadre of Marines humping like mad.”
“No.” Cowboy growled. “I can’t. Not at all.”
The flush got deeper, and Cowboy felt the way Duncan’s cock leaped, growing against his thigh. “No?”
“No. I think that sharing is a very bad idea.” He pulled Duncan closer, nipping at that swollen lower lip.
“I…. That is unreasonably hot, Colby. I am not into possessive men.” Uh-huh. Right.