Secrets Collide (Bluegrass Brothers)

neighbors say the same thing. That night he got a call from Miles.
    “What the hell is going on?”
    “What do you mean, Miles?”
    “I got pulled in from the field to talk to some douche in a suit asking all kinds of questions about you and the family.”
    “I could ask you the same thing. How’s the Army?”
    “How’d you find out? No, wait. Don’t answer that. It was the douche in the suit in the middle of the freakin’ desert—or one of his buddies. Who’s recruiting you?”
    “CIA. They want me for covert ops.”
    “Are you going to do it?”
    “Yes. Y’all have had your chance to make a difference. Now I want mine. Paige is in college and Pierce is about to graduate high school and has accepted a scholarship to the University of Kentucky.”
    Miles had been quiet for a moment. “Be safe. It takes a lot out of you to be someone you’re not. You won’t be able to tell anyone what you do. I’ll try to tame the questions on the home front, but you have to promise me something.”
    “What?”
    “If you ever need anything, you call me. I have enough security clearances to cut through red tape. Besides, red tape be damned. If my brother needs me, then I’ll be there.”
    Cy had almost choked up. He and Miles hadn’t been the closest of brothers because of age, but he had known down to his core Miles would be there for him. “Thank you. I’d like that.”
     
    Upon gradating from UK, he immediately went to Virginia.  He graduated top in his class from the academy. After his covert training at The Farm, he was shipped to L.A. to begin his undercover work. Due to his penchant for doing dangerous things, the CIA had gotten him hired as a stuntman on an action movie that needed a driver. There was a scene where he was racing a car on the ice in Siberia. The director had been so impressed he’d asked what else he could do.
    It turned out it was quite lucrative to be a little crazy. The more insane stunts you did, the higher the pay. Of course, while he was in Siberia, he was tasked with chatting up the local extras for gossip on the area. Being from Keeneston was a huge benefit. Small town gossip has always been an international pastime. Cy began telling stories of his hometown and, soon enough, the locals were telling theirs. One of which turned out to be a secret research lab for the military that the U.S. hadn’t known about.
    As the years went by, he became more and more specialized in his skills for the CIA. He could get into any VIP club anywhere in the world thanks to being in the movies and having a leading actress on his arm for the night. He taped conversations, stole incriminating papers, planted bugs, and much more.
    Miles had called him almost two years ago. “Marshall is in trouble. There’s this dog-fighting ring in Keeneston. We don’t know much more, and while these can be localized problems, sometimes they’re just a small part of a much bigger picture.”
    Cy had gotten all the information he could and then called Marshall to casually investigate further. When he found out drugs and guns were also involved, he took it to his boss. After Paul Russell, the local man who was running for Congress, mysteriously died in an abandoned part of D.C., Cy's boss told him to look into it officially.
    He sent the pictures and description of Russell’s death through the system, triggering the Department of Homeland Security and NSA to call his boss and chew him out for stepping on their turf.
    “Those pricks over at DHS and NSA want you to back off. Apparently this Sergei character is a real badass. Well, you know who’s best at catching a badass?” Cy’s boss at the CIA had asked. “Another badass. I’m not backing off and I told them that, so don’t screw this up.”
     
    Boxes arrived at his home in L.A. the next day. Bombings, murders, gun trades—all accredited to Sergei and his band of misfits. They all worked for a man the agency called Mr. X. Each of his troops, except Sergei, was marked with a Roman numeral ten tattoo under his wrist, the same tattoo he had just seen on the man on the fire escape . . . and the same tattoo missing from the wrist of the man who had fired at them. It was missing because Sergei was a mercenary. His only loyalty was to money.
    Cy had never before gotten this close to Sergei and he itched to capture him but not with Gemma holding his hand as they ran through the night. Instead of taking Sergei down, Cy was going to go into hiding. The only