Cut and Run 5 - Armed and Dangerous

He reached through the iron bars and pushed the handle, opening the door and holding it for Zane with a gallant wave of his hand.
    “Why, thank you, sir,” Zane drawled as he walked through the mess, already thinking of ways to make sure Ty would be the one writing up the report for this trip.
    “Assholes,” Ty muttered as he looked up at the floor display above the elevators. He stopped in front of the fire alarm and looked at it for just a moment too long for Zane’s comfort. Zane cleared his throat pointedly.
    Ty looked at him almost guiltily and then followed him toward the stairwell. Zane didn’t know if there were any sort of alarm on the door, but they needed to move a little more quickly regardless.
    The condo they had targeted was on the second floor, not nearly a long enough hike up the steps to pacify Ty’s annoyance. Zane pushed past him and started checking doors until they found the number they’d been provided. He glanced at his partner, knocked on the door, and listened to what sounded like a rush of feet that immediately retreated. Zane frowned and reached out to rap on the door again, but someone approached from the other side and stopped. Zane figured the man was looking out the peephole, so he held up his badge. Behind him, Ty did the same. “Federal agents.”
    A bolt slid and the door opened just a bit, blocked by the chain, and a slim, wholly average-looking man peered out.
    “Cameron Jacobs? I’m Special Agent Zane Garrett, and this is Special Agent Ty Grady. We’re looking for Julian Cross.”

    C AMERON stared through the four-inch gap as he studied the two tall, capable-looking men holding out badges that looked pretty official. They could be federal agents. Or not. With Julian’s past business, there was no telling who might come looking for him. It was the “or not” that was scaring Cameron right now, and his hand gripped the doorjamb so tightly that it hurt. “I don’t know who that is.”
    “Perhaps you know him better as Julian Bailey?” the man called Special Agent Grady said drily. “Or Sir? Maybe even Boss?”
    Cameron frowned as he shook his head. Surely federal agents would be nicer than this. He looked them up and down. And better dressed. “I’m sorry, but you have the wrong….” He frowned harder as he remembered the last time he had said those words, maybe fifteen minutes ago. “Was that you on the speaker?” he asked in outrage.
    The man who had introduced them smiled slowly. To Cameron, it was like a dangerous animal showing its teeth. He frowned, looking over the man’s windblown, curly hair, piercing eyes, and a crooked nose that had probably been broken at least twice. The smile was probably meant to put him at ease.
    Special Agent Grady flipped over the badge he’d been holding and pulled aside his leather jacket to slide it into an inner pocket. The move revealed a fairly large weapon in a holster under his arm. Whether he did it on purpose didn’t really matter; his point was made.
    “Would you mind opening the door so we can have a word, Mr. Jacobs?” Special Agent Garrett asked in a businesslike tone. “Or you can just point us toward Cross and we’ll be out of your hair.”
    “I do mind,” Cameron objected, his back straightening as he pulled his hand back to slam the door shut.
    Grady’s hand shot out in a flash, stopping the door from closing. He stepped closer and lowered his head, as if he might be about to share a secret. Everything about him screamed military to Cameron, from his gruff tone to his quick reflexes to his impressive athletic build.
    “Do you have any idea how much trouble it is to fix a chain that’s been ripped off a doorjamb?” Special Agent Grady asked calmly. “Or how much it hurts my shoulder to put it through a solid oak door? This is oak, right? It’s very nice.”
    Cameron pushed hard against the door, and it made no difference at all. He glanced at Special Agent Garrett, who was taller, darker, and not offering any sympathy. This was not looking good. Not at all. So Cameron nodded jerkily and reached to unhook the chain, aware that Julian would read him the riot act for this.
    Of course, Julian would yell at him for opening the door in the first place. But only a little bit.
    Chain undone, Cameron took several steps back and gathered himself to reach for his phone and Julian’s speed dial emergency number as he watched his four calf-high white Westies charge the strangers entering the