Cut and Run 3 - Fish and Chips

this crap off the bed’,” Ty parroted with a smirk as he stood and hauled Zane off the bed, then hooked a foot around Zane’s ankle and shoved him ever-so-gently to the floor.
    “Hey!” Zane objected, but he laughed as he thumped lightly on the carpet. He drew his knees up and balanced his forearms on them as he looked up at his partner. “Gee, I feel so loved. Thrown on the floor with the rest of the crap,” he teased.
    Ty nodded, pleased with himself. He reached over and swept the rest of the stuff off the bed as well, sending it off the edge to land behind Zane on the floor. Then he climbed into the round bed, and Zane heard him flop down heavily. Zane huffed and shifted to his knees so he could crawl up onto the bed and right over top of Ty. “You’re lucky you’re pretty .”
    “Damn right,” Ty agreed with a cocky smirk as he stretched like a cat and made himself comfortable on his back.
    Zane chuckled before shifting and lying down next to Ty. He looked from side to side. For such a big bed, it was actually pretty narrow once you took into account the round mattress and how tall and broad they both were. He shrugged slightly and folded his hands over his waist. “I don’t know if I’ll sleep,” Zane murmured, although he was a little tired. While he slept much better now than a couple months ago, a late night, a really early morning, and new stress didn’t necessarily offset his edginess on the job and strange surroundings.
    Ty didn’t respond, and when Zane glanced over at him, he saw that his partner was already asleep, face relaxed, breathing evenly. Zane sighed in exasperation. Ty had the same ability as a lot of people who’d ever served in the military: he could sleep on command whenever and wherever. Zane envied the ability. He carefully turned onto his side and scooted up against him, slid his arm over Ty’s waist, and laid his head on the pillow, bracing his cheekbone on Ty’s shoulder. It was easy to let his eyes close, and he briefly entertained the thought of Ty as his own personal teddy bear as he fell asleep.
     
     
    T HEIR personalized itineraries for each day, printed and slid under the door the night before, came in a fussy green folder tied with a red ribbon and supposedly matched the more general overviews McCoy had given them that morning. Although they had reviewed the summary documents briefly, Ty intended to go through them again as they ate dinner, just to assure himself there weren’t any surprises.
    He sat at the small marble-topped dining table in their cabin, knee bouncing as he perused Del Porter’s scheduled activities. “I swear to God, if they have me down for another massage I’m diving overboard,” he mumbled as he rubbed at his sore shoulder. The masseuse had warned him he’d be achy for a few days, but this was ridiculous. He’d fallen out of helicopters and not been this sore afterward.
    Zane forked up some salad as he looked at Corbin’s list. “Some vacation,” he commented. “Two scheduled activities a day plus meals, some extra excursions while in ports. Although evenings are pretty clear, looks like.”
    Ty nodded. It was easy to build a profile of the two men they were impersonating just by the activities they’d paid for. Rock climbing, waterskiing, cliff diving, scuba diving, a fairly tame “zip-line adventure over the jungles of Puerto Rico,” and several other activities in the same vein. Adrenaline junkies. Or suicidal, depending. Ty raised one eyebrow and smiled slightly. “I’m beginning to like these guys.”
    “I’m going to guess that Corbin’s the adventurer and Del tags along. Although he did look like he worked out,” Zane commented. “Are there any differences in the itineraries?”
    Ty slid his folder closer and peered at Zane’s, comparing them side-by-side. “Looks like Corbin has a few nights reserved at the private-game poker tables. High stakes.” Ty whistled low. “A hundred thousand buy-in? Hope you’re not playing with government money, partner,” he teased.
    Zane pointed at a note starred to one side of his itinerary. “The Porters’ account has been preloaded with the ship’s bursar. It doesn’t say how much, though.”
    “Do you play poker?” Ty asked as he sat back and studied Zane. He had a feeling Zane would be good at it. He had one hell of a poker face.
    “Yes,” Zane said absently, taking another bite of salad as he read through the activities list. “Did a lot of gambling in