Cut and Run 5 - Armed and Dangerous

they were in the path of Julian Cross. Deuce would be fine. He hoped.
    A beacon of light on the water caught his eye, and he squinted into the moonless night.
    “Ty!” he called as a completely different type of nervousness settled over him. “He’s here.”
    When Ty had mentioned Nick O’Flaherty’s name, saying his old Recon buddy had a boat they could use, Zane had sort of expected a dinghy. He had imagined Nick inhabiting some seedy apartment over an Irish pub in South Boston. That was the impression he’d gotten from Ty’s oldest friend when he was blind and could only hear him speak. So he was surprised when a sleek sixty-foot Outer Reef 580 Motoryacht glided into the view of the little boat’s running lights.
    Julian whistled from the railing where he was watching the yacht. “Not cheap. I thought you said your friend was a cop.”
    “He is,” Ty said as he checked the magazine in his gun.
    “Is he on the take?”
    Ty looked up to glare at him. He didn’t answer, instead heading for the stern of the boat to call out to Nick and help him secure the gangplank they would use to switch boats.
    Zane was scowling as he watched Ty and the shadowed figure on the other boat. Julian was right; that was not a bargain basement way to live. Zane found himself wondering how Nick afforded it.
    He drew a steadying breath and then rolled his eyes. He shouldn’t be nervous. Nick knew who he was, even if Zane had never laid eyes on Nick. He watched as Ty spoke with the man, able to overhear them in the still night.
    “Let me guess,” Nick’s Boston accent said in amusement. “Strippergram?”
    “Yeah, let us in so we can steal your watch in the morning,” Ty muttered. The sense of humor explained why this man and Ty had become such close friends, but it also made Zane want to hate him a little more.
    “We’d better get going if we intend to go unnoticed,” Nick called out as soon as they had the gangplank secured.
    They boarded the yacht one at a time, Zane’s stomach in knots. Zane realized that he was desperately hoping that Mr. Nick O’Flaherty was an unfortunate-looking individual.
    It was a few seconds later, when they all gathered in the salon, that Zane truly got a look at Nick for the first time as he hurried past them toward the pilothouse. He looked about Ty’s age, ruggedly handsome and clean-shaven with short strawberry-blond hair and ivy-green eyes. He was a few inches shorter than Zane, but then, most men were. He was built solidly, not as broad as Ty or Zane at the shoulders, but obviously fit. Damn him.
    He wore faded jeans, a thick cable-knit sweater, and boots. The gun in his jeans told Zane he’d been expecting trouble.
    They followed him through the boat, Ty moving into the pilothouse with Nick as the others stood in the galley in the middle of the yacht.
    “Garrett, good to see you in one piece,” Nick said with a nod as he slid into the pilot’s seat.
    “Well, it’s good to see anything,” Zane said, unable to look at Nick without thinking about how he had kissed the man Zane loved. He pushed that aside for now.
    “I think we got here clean,” Ty said as he turned and waved for Julian and Cameron to join them.
    “Same. What the fuck have you guys gotten into?” Nick asked.
    Ty shrugged and looked around the pilothouse uneasily. Nick watched him and then turned in his seat to look at Zane.
    Zane didn’t know how much Nick had been told, because Ty had spoken to him in Farsi on the phone. He stood in the galley of Nick’s yacht, trying to think of anything to fill the awkward silence that didn’t end with punching Nick in the face.
    He couldn’t come up with anything, and so they stood in silence as Cameron gave Nick a weak smile and stepped forward to shake his hand. “I know you don’t know us. But thank you.”
    “Ty says you need help. You got it.” He offered his hand to Cameron, then to Julian when the Irishman moved closer, introducing himself to each of them.
    Zane pursed his lips as he looked around the yacht. It was sumptuous, all black leather and lacquered teak wood, shining stainless steel and top-of-the-line everything. The furniture in the salon was all built-in, heavy and luxurious, with a large television in place on the wall that separated the salon from the galley. Stairs led from the galley to an upper deck. When Zane looked around, it didn’t feel like it fit Nick at all. But then, he didn’t know Nick very well.
    “So,” Nick said with