Cut and Run 7 - Touch and Geaux

suppressed sniper rifle with folding action in a nondescript violin case he’d stolen from La Fée Verte.
    Owen and Digger were to enter the cemetery and loiter on the south side to prevent entry, while Nick and Kelly were to guard the back gate from outside the cemetery.
    Zane was left to head straight down St. Louis Street and approach the cemetery at its main entrance.
    The ear buds Digger had provided were dependent on small wireless radios, and as long as the radio was within a few yards of the ear bud, they would work. Zane kept his in his pocket. They had a limited range, but Zane could still hear the others after they all went their separate ways. Ty remained silent for several minutes, his harsh breathing as he ran the only evidence that his ear bud worked at all. Then his breathing evened out and he began to whistle a tune. Zane slowed his pace, a feeling of dread coming over him. When Ty whistled, it never boded well.
    The street in front of the cemetery’s main entrance was crowded with parked cars and several horse-drawn carriages. Zane hung back, loitering and strolling up and down the street for nearly an hour as he observed the area. The others were doing the same, reporting in occasionally. Ty had made his way to his roost somehow, and since Zane hadn’t heard him trying to charm any employees, his guess was Ty had just snuck up there.
    “I got a Fed,” Ty finally whispered in Zane’s ear. “Coming up on Garrett now.”
    Zane watched a thin man in a dark suit step out of a black Tahoe that he’d parked illegally along the street, then head straight for the cemetery entrance as he buttoned his suit jacket.
    “Got him,” Zane said under his breath. “Anyone following?”
    “It’s clear back here,” Nick said.
    “Got a vehicle parked on this side,” Owen reported. “Some sort of touring van.”
    “Go on your count, Garrett,” Ty murmured.
    Zane waited a few more minutes, then crossed the street at an angle, standing in the grassy median and shielding his eyes from the sun. The Basin Street Station building was to his right. It was pale yellow with black iron workings around the top terrace. That was where Ty had set up. It was impossible to see him, though; the sun sat right behind him. Behind the enclosed walls of the cemetery, Zane could see the uneven structures of tombs and tiny chapels. Stone angels wept. Brick faltered to the hands of time and unstable earth.
    Zane took a moment to steady himself, and then crossed to the other side of the street. The agent saw him coming and nodded at him, then turned, following a small tour group into the cemetery and breaking off to the right. Ty had told the FBI contact to meet them in the front of the cemetery.
    “He’s heading in. It’s a trap,” Ty said in Zane’s ear. “Everybody bug out.”
    “Negative,” Zane said, and he followed the man into the cemetery.
    “Dammit, Garrett, the others can’t cover you in there!” Ty shouted.
    Zane nodded. He’d spent most of his time undercover alone; he was more used to taking these types of risks than Ty was. And he had every confidence that Ty’s sniper rifle would cover him just fine.
    Zane trailed through the maze of tombs, following the directions Ty whispered in his ear. He headed to the back where Ty said the Protestant section would be. It was a grassy area, devoid of vaults and mostly clear. It took Zane many twists and turns, and several dead ends with Ty’s voice in his ear telling him which way to go, before he found it.
    The agent was sitting on an iron bench, waiting for him. He was possibly the most Federal-looking FBI agent Zane had ever seen: black suit, loafers, sunglasses, and a thick black tie. He’d unbuttoned his jacket and his shoulder holster was partially visible, and his pants leg rode up to reveal his backup holster and weapon. A field agent he was not.
    Zane sighed and stepped out of the row of tombs he’d cut through. The man straightened when he caught sight of Zane, and he stood, buttoning his jacket.
    “Special Agent Howard?” Zane asked.
    “That’s right. Are you Garrett?”
    Zane nodded.
    “Where’s your CI?”
    “My CI?”
    “You said you were bringing in a CI. A Tyler Beaumont.”
    “Oh, yeah. Yeah, he’s the one with that little red dot on your chest,” Zane said, pointing to Howard’s tie.
    Howard looked down and jerked when he saw the laser sight dancing on his tie. His eyes were wide and scared when they met Zane’s. He reached for