by Tim Green
“Don’t worry. I got you. This is what we do. You couldn’t be any safer.”
The agent closed the door as he left, but his words didn’t help. Ty lay awake, tossing and turning, until finally he cracked open his copy of The Giver and read about a boy who—like Ty—found himself alone and scared. Before he knew it, he awoke with the book open on his chest and the alarm clock beeping. He got up and ready for school, stepping cautiously down the stairs until he heard the toaster ding and Agent Sutherland humming to himself in the kitchen.
“Did you talk to the doctor?” Ty asked.
The agent jumped. “Wow. Kid. You can’t sneak up on me like that.”
“Did you talk to the doctor?” Ty asked again, unable to read the agent’s expression.
“Yes,” Sutherland said, “I did.”
Chapter Twenty-one
AGENT SUTHERLAND BROKE INTO a grin. “Good news. Your brother turned the corner. The fever stayed down last night. He’ll be out of ICU today, and they’re letting him come home tomorrow for sure.”
“Can I go see him?” Ty didn’t try to hide his excitement.
“We’ll head over there before school. I figured toast and peanut butter.” The agent set two plates down on the table next to the glasses of orange juice he’d already poured. “My nephew loves it. Lots of protein.”
Ty slammed down his breakfast and threw his things together for school, eager to see Thane. He rode in the front seat with Sutherland, who continued to check the rearview mirror and look all around at any stoplights. Even though Ty knew it was the man’s job, it still made him nervous. Sutherland parked right in front of the hospital’s doors and got out with his briefcase. The agent had a talk with the security guard about leaving the car in a no-parking zone, showing the guard his badge before they walked right in.
Thane sat propped up in the same bed Ty had last seen him in and with what looked like the same IV dripping into the vein in his arm. He smiled weakly at Ty, looking pale and tired. Ty rushed into the room and hugged his brother tight. Thane rubbed the back of Ty’s head, pulling Ty in to his chest.
When his brother let go, Ty stood back and said, “I don’t want to bang your knee again.”
Thane waved his hand in the air. “That had nothing to do with me getting an infection. It happens. Sometimes things happen. There doesn’t always have to be someone to blame, you know.”
“I know,” Ty said. “Thane, this is Agent Sutherland.”
Thane noticed the agent for the first time. “Agent?”
Sutherland held out his hand. “FBI. Big Jets fan, Tiger. Pleasure to meet you.”
“What’s wrong?” Thane asked.
Sutherland took a deep breath. He turned to close the door behind him before telling Thane everything he knew, and everything that had happened.
“Here.” The agent removed the folder from his briefcase and showed Thane the pictures of Pete Bonito and Bennie the Blade.
The pictures had the opposite effect on Thane than they had with Ty. Thane’s brow wrinkled and his mouth twisted into a snarl.
“So, what are we going to do?” Thane asked, his pasty skin seeming to grow even paler.
“It’ll be me and a couple other agents, now, watching Ty around the clock until your uncle gets in and out of town. Ty should be perfectly safe.”
“I’ve heard that before,” Thane said. “Would he have been perfectly safe last night if they didn’t drop their ladder?”
Sutherland’s red face glowed. “It all worked out okay.”
Thane sat up straighter in the bed. “The FBI has been telling us for months that we weren’t in any danger. I don’t call someone trying to break into my brother’s bedroom window safe. You didn’t even go after them.”
“They were gone,” the agent said. “Even if we had a manhunt, what were we going to charge them with? Technically, they hadn’t done anything more than trespass.”
“FBI,” Thane said with disgust. “That stands for ‘Famous But Incompetent,’ right?”
Now it was Sutherland’s turn to scowl. “All due respect, Tiger. It wasn’t me—or anyone else in the FBI—who decided to give inside information to the D’Amico family so they could cash in on the Jets games, was it?”
Chapter Twenty-two
“MY LITTLE BROTHER THOUGHT it was for some fantasy football website,” Thane said, his voice rising.
Ty cringed at the sound of the words that so often ran through his mind. Their Uncle Gus had told Ty exactly what Thane just said, that the information Ty got from his older brother would be used for nothing more than a fantasy football website. Ty had known it wasn’t technically right for him to pass on explicit injury information on the Jets players, but the temptation of being able to play football had been just too much for him.
Agent Sutherland scratched furiously at his bald head. “Whatever anyone thought, you two created this problem.”
Thane closed his mouth and rolled up his lower lip. Finally, he nodded his head.
“You’re right,” he said.
Sutherland’s expression softened. “Last night was crazy, but thank God everything worked out. Honestly, with our presence, these guys will stay away from Ty. I imagine they’ll spend their time trying to figure out another way to get to your uncle.”
“Is our uncle safe?” Thane asked.
“The US Marshals are pretty darn good,” Sutherland said.
Thane sat, absorbing the information, the lines in his face beginning to fade. “Okay, well, I’m in here until tomorrow, so don’t you guys let Ty out of your sight for a second.”
“We got him, Tiger,” Sutherland said, nodding at Ty. “Like I said, around the clock. He’ll be fine.”
They stayed and talked, Ty telling Thane all about the Raptors and how he’d made it.
“Let me see that cut,” Thane said.
Ty held out his hand, and Thane looked proudly at Agent Sutherland and said, “How about that?”
“Tough enough to be a Jet himself one day, right?” Sutherland said.
“I’ll say,” Thane said.
Ty felt his face warm and he looked down at the floor.
“Listen.” Thane let go of Ty’s hand and pointed at it. “You want to put a lot of ointment on that, then put some no-stick gauze pads, then tape it up good, first with stretch tape, then the stuff they use on ankles. The big thing is to keep it soft and slippery on the inside of the tape job. It’s not going to take away the pain completely, but it’ll help.”
“Advice from an NFL star,” Sutherland said to Ty. “You can’t beat that.”
They talked about the details of the tournament, how if the Raptors won, the two of them would be making a trip to Miami.
“You should go down there,” Ty said to Agent Sutherland, feeling bad about him being left out of the excitement. The agent nodded his head like that would be a good idea, but said nothing.
After a few more minutes of talking about the beach and sunshine, the Sea aquarium, and riding WaveRunners out on the ocean, Thane began to look tired.
“I’ll stop back after school,” Ty said.
“Then you get to that practice,” Thane said.
Ty kissed his brother, and Agent Sutherland took him to school. After a day that seemed to go on forever, Ty finally broke free and found Sutherland waiting. As promised, Ty visited Thane again. His older brother actually made the nurses get a bunch of tape and bandages so he could personally tape up Ty’s hand. Ty went to practice full of confidence. Maybe it was the excitement of how well he did at 7-on-7 practice or Agent Sutherland’s reassuring words, but whatever the reason, Ty had no trouble sleeping that night.
When Ty woke up Thursday, he went downstairs and watched the morning news with Agent Sutherland while he ate breakfast. Halfway through a bagel with cream cheese, the newscaster began to talk about the grand jury testimony and how the US Marshals had Gus Slatz under heavy guard.
Chapter Twenty-three
A PRETTY, DARK-HAIRED WOMAN
in a gray pantsuit spoke to the camera in front of the columns of the federal courthouse.
“Government prosecutors are saying that additional testimony they expect today from Gus Slatz could put an end to the D’Amico crime family for good. As a result, authorities have kept Slatz hidden under lock and key. He’s expected to arrive here at this courthouse around ten o’clock this morning in an armored vehicle. That’s right, an armored vehicle. That’s how seriously the government is taking the safety of this key witness.”
Ty looked at Agent Sutherland, who winked at him.
“Looks like I’m almost in the clear,” Ty said.
“I’d have to say so,” Sutherland said. “Let’s not count our chickens yet, though. I’ll be a lot more comfortable when I know your uncle is on a plane back to wherever it is they moved him to.”
“When will that be?” Ty asked.
Sutherland shrugged. “Only the marshals know. Maybe this evening?”
School dragged by. Every time Ty looked at the clock, he thought about his Uncle Gus testifying to the grand jury. He knew Uncle Gus had to be scared silly. Lucy Catalone had terrified Uncle Gus even before the mobsters wanted him dead. Ty could only imagine how bad it was for Uncle Gus knowing these dangerous men were even more eager to see him gone.
Before practice, Ty had Agent Sutherland take him home for a snack and to change. Ty put on his computer and went to the New York Times website, where he saw a story posted only twelve minutes earlier. The headline read GUS SLATZ SINKS MOB.
“Wow,” Ty said, reading on about how his uncle’s testimony resulted in seventeen more indictments against Lucy Catalone and Al D’Amico.
“Yeah,” Sutherland said, looking over Ty’s shoulder. “It went well. The agency is pretty happy.”
Ty felt a mixture of excitement and fear. He was excited because the danger seemed to be over but scared because everything that had happened in the last couple days felt like a brush with death.
Practice started early, so Ty had to tape his own hand with the encouragement of Agent Sutherland, who stopped at a drugstore and bought a bag of supplies. Coach Bavaro ran them relentlessly. They ran pattern after pattern, footballs flying through the air. In the final session of practice, they scrimmaged against their own defense. Ty lined up as the outside receiver and read the defense in front of him. It looked like a single safety defense, probably cover three. That meant Ty should break off his route at about fifteen yards and run a comeback.
David Bavaro began the cadence, and just as the ball snapped, the defense shifted. Ty read it on the run, seeing that what they really were doing was playing two deep safeties. That would leave a cornerback underneath to intercept the comeback. Ty got to fifteen yards and, instead of coming back, he veered toward the middle of the field on a skinny post pattern. David Bavaro saw him and delivered the pass in a long, high arc, dropping it perfectly into his hands.
Ty caught it and ran into the end zone, untouched.
He jogged back to the huddle to find both Bavaros, coach and son, grinning and slapping his back.
“You read it on the run,” Coach Bavaro said. “Great job, Ty. That’s hard to learn.”
David Bavaro said, “I knew you were going to do it. I threw it before you even made the break.”
“Now that’s the kind of chemistry that’ll get us to Miami!” Coach Bavaro grabbed both boys and hugged them to his chest.
Ty’s face blazed with pride and a little bit of embarrassment. He couldn’t wait to tell his brother.
Chapter Twenty-four
THE EXCITEMENT OF THANE coming home made Ty nearly forget about Uncle Gus and the grand jury testimony. He ran inside from practice to give his brother a hug and tell him excitedly about the chemistry he was creating with David Bavaro.
“That’s great.” Thane beamed proudly from his place on the couch.
“Well,” Agent Sutherland said, checking his watch, “your uncle is probably stepping onto an airplane right now and on his way back to Timbuktu or wherever they’ve got him. You guys have absolutely nothing to worry about anymore.”
“What about when Uncle Gus comes back?” Ty asked.
Sutherland raised his eyebrows, and the wrinkles on his forehead climbed up toward the top of his bald head. “For the trial? That won’t be for a year or more. These things take a long time, and a lot can change. By then, D’Amico’s nephew might not even want to get his uncle back. So I guess this is good-bye.”
“Agent Sutherland,” Thane said, starting to rise.
“No, don’t get up.”
Thane sat back into the pillows on the couch. “I just want you to know how much I appreciate you looking after Ty.”
“First of all, it’s my job,” the agent said, handing Thane a business card. “But he’s a good kid. I think you know that.”
“I do.”
Ty shook Sutherland’s hand.
“You call me if you guys need anything,” Sutherland said to Thane before heading for the door. “My cell number is on there. And stay away from that Facebook page, will you?”
Ty looked down.
“Agent Sutherland?” Thane said. “About Miami. I’ve got a couple tickets for the Super Bowl. If you can get down there, I’d be happy to give them to you.”
Sutherland stopped and turned around, the gold tooth glinting from his smile. “You don’t have to do that. Really. I appreciate it, but I don’t think I can accept it.”
“You really should. They don’t cost me anything. I want you to have them.”
The agent nodded his head. “I tell you what, if you let me pay you face value for them, I’d love to take them. They cost ten times that much from a ticket broker, so it’d still be a big favor.”
“Done.”
“Great. Thank you, Tiger.”
Thane held up the agent’s card. “I’ll have them delivered to you at this address, and you can mail me a check. Maybe we’ll see you down there. If this Seven-on-Seven thing goes well for Ty, at least one of us will be playing in Miami.”
When the agent had gone, Ty and his brother watched TV for a while until Thane started to fall asleep. Ty helped him with his crutches, and the two of them went upstairs. Thane got into bed and took some pain pills, thanking Ty for his help and reminding him to put the alarm on. Ty went into the hallway between their two rooms and armed the system. The buttons chirped as he punched in the code, a combination of his football jersey number and Thane’s. That done, he used the shower and climbed into bed himself.
It felt good to have Thane back, and Ty stretched in his bed and broke open his book, reading until his eyes drooped. He turned out the light, sighed with comfort, and rolled onto his side.
When he heard the chirp of the alarm buttons, his eyes shot open. Then he remembered Thane was home. He let the air out of his lungs and closed his eyes to go back to sleep. A moment later, his eyes shot open again. The thought of Thane struggling by himself with crutches down the stairs to get something to eat made Ty raise his covers and climb out of bed. He reached for the robe on the back of his door and tugged it on.
Before he could tie it shut, Ty heard the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs. His brain spun in confusion. Thane hadn’t had time to get down and already be coming back up, and Ty would have heard the sound of his crutches. The footsteps moving up the stairs sounded soft.
Ty’s heart jumped into his throat. He froze in panic, unable to move as he heard whoever it was sneak past his bedroom door, heading down the hall to where Thane slept. Ty heard heavy breathing and peeked around the edge of his door.
He peered down the dark hallway and gasped at what he saw.
Chapter Twenty-five
BEFORE THE CHRISTMAS BREAK, Ty’s health teacher, Mrs. Hoeft, had given the class a big project for their emergency unit. Ty and the rest of his classmates had to—among other things—create an emergency exit map for their homes. After hearing about how many people died in their own homes from fire, Ty took the project very serious
ly and explored the big mansion for the best ways out, especially from his and Thane’s bedrooms. Thane’s escape route was easy. A balcony overlooking the back lawn and the hills beyond gave easy access to the terrace and the grass below.
Ty’s route hadn’t been as easy to decide on. There were several ways he could go, including through Thane’s bedroom. But, if there was a real fire, and a bad one, Ty decided his best chance would be to hang from his window and drop down onto a narrow roof covering the front entrance of the house. From there, he could hang from a copper gutter and drop down into the bushes without hurting himself. The tricky part was the first drop and making sure he didn’t simply fall from the roof. That would get him hurt.
So, with extreme danger afoot in the hallway, and who knew what other perils in the house below, Ty found himself halfway out his bedroom window before he even took another breath. When he did pause, he did so in shame. Pete Bonito and Bennie the Blade—or whoever was in the house—scared him. But hadn’t he always told himself that losing his brother would be worse than harm coming to himself? That’s what he had thought, but here he was with his brother in danger, and he was running for the exit.
Something flooded his chest. Courage? Insanity? Love? Ty didn’t know; he only knew that it propelled him back into the room and made him scoop up the Yankees bat given to Thane by Derek Jeter in exchange for a Jets helmet. The bat was the real thing, but it felt surprisingly light in Ty’s grip. He swept open his bedroom door and looked before stepping into the dark hallway.
The thick, short shape of a hunched-over man had his hand on the doorknob to Thane’s room. He wore a bulky parka and a knit cap and he eased the door open and took one step into the room. Ty bolted toward the man with a gasp.
The sound made the dark shape spin around and cry out. The sound made Ty’s insides melt.
The man launched himself at Ty.
Ty reared back and swung the bat.
Chapter Twenty-six
TY CONNECTED WITH SOMETHING. The man yelped and fell at Ty’s feet, but his hands grasped Ty’s ankles and locked on in a death grip. Ty swung the bat again.