Cut and Run 1 - Cut and Run

jar loose the few you've got,” Zane advised, eyes on the papers he'd pulled out.
    "Well, get done with your little pity party, then,” Ty huffed.
    "Party, great, where's the drinks?” Zane sniped.
    "And I was almost starting to like you,” Ty sighed under his breath as he twisted and swung his legs over the side of the bed.
    "God forbid."
    Ty nodded and glanced back down at his food. He had lost his appetite along with the desire to spend any more time with his self-pitying partner. “I need a break from this fucking room,” he muttered as he pushed to stand and stretch.
    Zane glanced up from where he'd been staring blankly at the reports. Ty was patting down his jeans as he searched for his wallet. Finally, he located it and pulled it out, retrieving a little piece of paper and unfolding it with a frown.
    Zane didn't say a word. He just made himself keep his eyes on the paperwork. He remembered when Ty had been handed that piece of paper, and he knew the implications. He fought hard not to be slightly jealous.
    Ty reached for the phone and dialed, eyes straying to Zane and glinting in the low light. “Want me to see if she has a friend?” he asked with a smirk.
    "I'll pass, thanks,” Zane murmured, not even looking up.
    Ty nodded, watching his partner as the pretty little stewardess answered her phone. Ty didn't take his eyes off Zane as he set up the illicit rendezvous that he knew would rid him of some of the frustration his new partner had been creating.
    The hair on the back of Zane's neck rose. Ty was watching him. Waiting another minute, Zane turned his chin to look toward him, a brow rising lazily. Hmm. Ty shouldn't be the only one to vent his frustrations. Maybe he'd go find someone to pass the time with, too, now that he thought about it.
    Ty smirked as he watched Zane look up at him, grinning at the slightly breathless voice of the woman as she said goodbye. He hung up and looked at Zane. “Going to be okay on your own for an hour or two?” he asked rakishly.
    "Me and my right hand will be just peachy, thanks,” Zane said down at the papers.
    "Won't get no sympathy from me, Lone Star,” Ty told him as he slid into his boots. “I served my time with you,” he said with a shake of his head. “I'll call you if I spot a tail,” he added as an afterthought.
    "Have a good time,” Zane offered sincerely, finally looking up.
    Ty just laughed as he walked out the door, waving his cell phone over his shoulder to let Zane know how to contact him as he went.
    The other agent watched the door for a bit before shifting in the chair. He stood up and paced a little before making a decision. He walked over to the desk and uncovered the area directory the hotel provided in each room. Laying it open on the papers, he found a list of bars and nightclubs in the area. There was even a little map of the ten-block area. Zane decided he might as well take a break while he could. He walked over to his duffel and pulled out a change of clothes. After getting dressed, he stuck his wallet into his back pocket and strapped on his holster, though he winced a few times. Then he pulled on his boots and a heavy button-up shirt to cover the gun, and he was ready.
    Before he walked out, he shoved a couple condoms in his hip pocket, and the door shut behind him.
    * * * *
    He stood on the busy street corner outside the hotel Special Agents Grady and Garrett had moved their operations to. He had, of course, been keeping tabs on their location from the moment they'd stepped off the plane. When they'd declined the Bureau accommodations and moved to another hotel without telling anyone, he'd known he was in trouble. It meant they either suspected someone with inside resources or they were overly paranoid. Either scenario meant more work for him. It had taken a while to find their hotel, but they hadn't been paranoid enough to check in under false names and he had finally tracked them down.
    The new FBI team was a nuisance, but so far they weren't proving to be as much of a threat as he had expected. When he'd gotten word that Washington was sending a crack team, it had very nearly scared him. So much so that he'd set up the computer in the FBI archives for them and removed vital bits of the files as bait before they even landed. These two, however, had turned out to be anything but a threat.
    Still, it was better to be rid of them sooner rather than later.
    The exploding rig he had set up in the computer of the archives had