Cut and Run 7 - Touch and Geaux

pressed a finger onto the table. “Would you bust him out of prison?”
    “No,” Zane answered immediately.
    Nick sat back, eyebrows climbing high. “No?”
    “No,” Zane said again. He poured another glass, gritting his teeth. “I wouldn’t let him make it to a cell.”
    “How is that not enough?”
    Zane glared. “Look, I know you’re the team mother or whatever, but stop. I’m not part of your team.”
    Nick tilted his head. “You are now. And I know if Ty were here, he wouldn’t want to see you like this.”
    Zane slammed a hand on the table and grabbed Nick’s shirt collar. “Well Ty’s not here!”
    Nick didn’t retaliate or try to break his hold. He just put a hand on Zane’s shoulder. “So help me find him. And I’ll help you break him out of jail.”
    Zane wanted to lash out, to shout again or to shove him away. But it was nearly impossible to remain angry and sullen under Nick’s calming influence. Besides, Ty needed them. He let go of Nick’s shirt and sat back. Nick reached slowly for the bottle, giving Zane a chance to stop him; Zane shook his head and stood up, running both hands through his hair. “Just put it where I can’t find it.”
    Liam cleared his throat loudly. “Now that that crisis has passed, can we focus here?”
    Zane glowered at him, but Liam merely leered in return.
    “Okay, we can narrow it down,” Digger said. He took out his combat knife and gouged a deep line across the table. “This is the canal. When the levees broke, the barges in the canal and the storm surge took out most of the houses alongside it. What’s left in these first few blocks,” he said, slashing the table into a grid, “is nothing but empty lots or rebuilt homes.”
    Zane studied the grid closer. “So we can narrow it down.”
    Digger nodded.
    “It wouldn’t be near the canal then, nor would it be near businesses or large thoroughfares,” Zane said.
    Digger scratched his cheek with the large knife, then marked the approximate areas Zane had mentioned. “Also, most of the houses with no one living in them will still have markings on the sides.”
    “What sort of markings?”
    “A spray-painted X. Little markings in each quadrant. They were used when rescue crews went through the houses to show when they were there, which crew it was, what sort of dangers there were. And the body count.”
    Zane nodded, wincing. He remembered Ty talking about the rescue efforts he and others had been involved in after Hurricane Katrina hit. He couldn’t quite wrap his mind around the horrors.
    “Some of those houses still have their markings. Means the owners haven’t been able to return to rebuild. Or they ain’t coming back. We find a marked house with a vehicle near it, I guarandamntee you that’s our spot.”
    “So we can find him,” Owen said. He was standing behind Digger’s chair, unable to sit still.
    “We don’t even know if they have him,” Nick said. “If the Colombians got him first, he’s dead.”
    “And if he got away, he’s sitting in a casino, drinking a cocktail in front of a security camera,” Zane said.
    “In that case, our only avenue is to search for him here,” Liam said, tapping the table. “If he’s dead, we’re no use to him. And if he’s sitting somewhere safe, he’s no use to us.”
    Nick tucked his gun into the back of his jeans. “So we go to the Lower Ninth Ward and split up.”
    “No, the hell we will,” Owen growled. He pointed at Liam. “Last time we split up, this bastard ran away, Doc got shot, and Grady disappeared. We stay together.”
    Nick studied him for a long moment and finally nodded. “We need a plan if we find the place. How do we take it?”
    Zane gripped the back of a chair. “Shock and awe.”
    “Care to explain?” Nick asked.
    Zane nodded and locked eyes with Liam “I want it. Right now.”
    Liam raised both eyebrows and sat forward. “Pardon?”
    “Your jacket is armored and your boots are for riding. Where’s your bike?”

    Ty worked the ropes at his wrists as Gaudet and his son argued, taking fast, shallow breaths, trying desperately to fake an allergic reaction.
    “Hey!” he finally croaked. He shook his shoulders from side to side. “Get these ropes . . . off my chest . . . so I can fucking breathe!”
    “The hell you say,” Shine growled. “Let him die, what’s the problem? We’re going to kill him anyway!”
    Gaudet smacked Shine on the side of the head. “I need information before I can let him