Cut and Run 3 - Fish and Chips

out.
    So with Zane gone, he’d come out here to clear his mind and hide from Norina Bianchi, who seemed determined to force him to have another massage. He’d been out here for about half an hour, staring off into nowhere and enjoying simply being there for once.
    Everyone else had cleared off the deck soon after his arrival, scrambling inside with their arms full of beach towels and books, expecting the quickly approaching dark clouds to bring rain with them. Ty knew better, though. He’d seen enough on the water to know when a storm was coming. A storm was definitely coming, but it wasn’t coming with these clouds.
    He sat motionless, enjoying the utter silence of the approaching front and the cool breeze on his salty skin. The ominous clouds reflected off the water, turning the surface silver. It was an otherworldly seascape, one that took Ty to places he hadn’t visited in some time. He was so lost in thought that he didn’t hear anyone approaching.
    “Do you not suppose you should get inside?” a voice asked from behind him.
    Ty’s expression didn’t change even though the sudden appearance of the man had startled him. He merely tilted his head from one side to the other, watching Vartan Armen move in his peripheral vision.
    “It’s not going to rain,” Ty answered slowly, the British accent coming out satisfactorily. He still needed to work on it. And he needed to know why in the fuck Armen was out here when he was supposed to be playing poker inside.
    Armen remained silent, and he sat in the chair next to Ty, seemingly content to watch the ocean roll just as Ty was. The clouds passing overhead were moving fast, the reflected light turning the water a deep sea-green now. When Armen did finally speak, his voice was low and serious. “You’ve taken to your role quite astonishingly well.”
    Ty felt his body go cold, but again he didn’t react outwardly, continuing to stare at the green water without comment. If Armen had found them out as frauds, this was a surprisingly civil way of announcing it.
    “I hired you to spy on the man, not fall in love with him,” Armen said calmly, though his clipped tones betrayed his annoyance.
    Ty turned his head to look at him, forcing himself to skillfully conceal his shock with a blank expression. Armen met his eyes and raised one eyebrow as if expecting Ty to say something. Ty stared at him without any intention of speaking. Anything he said right now would give him away as an imposter.
    “Well?” Armen asked expectantly. “Are you merely more capable than I ever supposed, or will it truly be a problem if you’re forced to harm him?”
    “It won’t be a problem,” Ty answered immediately.
    “Good,” Armen said with a pleased sneer that made Ty feel greasy as he looked at it. Armen looked him over critically. “When you told me you’d have to change your appearance I admit I wasn’t expecting this ,” he said with a gesture at Ty’s face. “I quite approve.”
    Ty merely nodded, his mind racing as he looked back at the water again. He found it was slightly more difficult to catch his breath than it had been five minutes ago.
    “I have the flash drive you left for me at the hotel. I assume you received your payment promptly? Good. I want the other drive before the cruise is over. The money will be wired to your account as before.”
    Ty swallowed hard and decided to take a chance on digging for a little more information. “And the Italians?”
    “They are none of your concern,” Armen said sharply. “Your job is Corbin Porter. Let those blasted, feeble Guardia agents handle the Bianchis.”
    Ty nodded obediently, his jaw clenching.
    “If he catches wind of your plotting, I assume you will take care of things,” Armen ordered abruptly as he stood. “Good day, Mr. Porter.”
    And then he was gone, strolling off down the length of the deck as the wind kicked up and plucked at his tie.
    Ty licked his lips, tasting salt as he ruminated over this new development. He waited calmly until Armen was out of sight, and then he pushed out of his chair and sprinted for the doors.
     
     
    Z ANE had just tossed a couple $1,000 chips into the pot to call and leaned back in his chair when he saw a familiar face appear at the door to the private lounge where the serious poker players congregated. A glance at his watch confirmed that he’d not even been at the table for thirty minutes, and Zane was starting to wonder if he’d be able to leave Ty alone at