That was a load of shit.Kristic had said as much to Cam seconds ago.He’d step one foot outside the door and blow this place to smithereens.Hoping his earlier prayers had been answered, Cam pulled the device from Jamie out of his pocket.
“I have a better idea,” he said, mentally added another Hail Mary, and pressed the button.
The light in Abby’s necklace clicked off.“You’re done, Kristic,” Cam said.
“So you’ll be a dead fed instead of a dead traitor.”He yanked Jared’s spare gun from his waistband and leveled it at Cam.
Then two things happened at once.
Abby slammed her heel into Kristic’s instep, loosening his hold enough to slip away, and a shot rang out from above.
Kristic hit the ground just as Abby slammed into Cam.He wrapped an arm around her shaking shoulders and hunched over, covering her in case of more gunfire.When none came, he straightened and looked up, following the trajectory of the shot that had nailed Kristic.
The glare of a sniper’s sight reflected light, then, once it was lowered, all Cam could see was the icy hot warmth of Nic’s pale blue eyes.
Nineteen
Nic stepped off the elevator onto the FBI’s floor, loaded down with coffee again.He’d snuck by his office for a quick shower and change of clothes, and when that hadn’t chased away the fatigue, he’d diverted downstairs to the horribly hipster late-night coffee shop.Decades ago, when he was a young SEAL, he could have gone without sleep for days, but at forty-five, sleepless nights, no matter how enjoyable or action-packed, caught up with him.And if anyone tried to steal his coffee this time, they’d be in for a nasty surprise.
The FBI bullpen was busier than usual for Saturday at midnight—agents taking witness statements, giving their own, and processing paperwork for their suspects in custody.In Aidan’s office at the far end, the SAC and Bowers were shouting as they had been twenty minutes ago.Nic was no more ready now than he had been then to step into that ring.And what the fuck were they even arguing about at this point?Their suspects, all of them, were in custody.
He surveyed the bullpen again instead, searching for blue-tipped hair and finding none.He did, however, spy a messy topknot.Before he could take a step in Lauren’s direction, though, a big hand clapped him on the shoulder.
“I owe you a thank-you,” Jamie drawled.
Jacket and bowtie gone, sleeves pushed up, he still looked too handsome for his own good.Nic couldn’t blame Aidan for falling head over heels for him.
“For bringing your husband coffee?”Nic said.
“Or tea?”Jamie nodded at the tea tag hanging out of one cup.
Nic jutted the tray at Jamie.“Hold this.”He tucked the tag into the cardboard sleeve, hiding it.“If he takes a cup without asking again, then it’s his own damn fault if he loses at caffeine roulette.”
“Good.”Jamie smirked, handing the tray back.“I like hearing him curse in Gaelic.”
Nic chuckled, his first all night, and it finally hit him that this ordeal was over.And everyone he cared about was still standing.Uninjured even, save for Cam’s grazed shoulder.When was the last time that had happened?He looked out over the bullpen again for the ASAC.
“That’s why I owe you,” Jamie said quietly at his side.“Thank you for saving my best friend’s life.”
Nic coughed, clearing his throat of the unexpected knot.“Thank the Navy for training me as a sniper.”
“I don’t just mean taking the shot.I mean never doubting him on this assignment.You know what all this has brought up for him?”
Nic nodded.
“Then thank you for being on his side.”
“Always.”
Jamie’s smile was a little too knowing for Nic’s liking, so he moved the conversation on before questions could be asked or assumptions made.“You want to do the honors?”he said, turning the cardboard tray and cup of tea toward Jamie.
Jamie smiled wider as he tugged the cup free.“Go find Cam and remind him we have a date on the court at noon.”
“Will do,” Nic said, even as he mentally rearranged Cam’s schedule.If the day didn’t involve them in bed for most of it, he was objecting.
Still probably wasn’t the smartest move but seeing a pistol aimed at Cam’s head had muted many of the reasons for pushing him away.
He stopped by the bullpen desk where Lauren was sorting stacks of papers and transferring files between a flash drive and her computer, the light on the former blinking.There were three others just like it on the desk.How she could tell them apart, he had no clue.
