Cash
Cash steppedout onto the upper deck of the Staten Island Ferry, then scanned the rows of seats. At five in the morning, the boat was nearly empty as it sliced through the quiet gray, the lights of Manhattan and Newark shining in the distances.
Nearly empty, but Cash immediately spotted the figure hunched over by the bow. He flicked open the button on his trench coat, then took a seat one down from Fox.
“Would you like a coffee, Harvard?” Fox asked, offering him a paper cup.
Cash took it. “Sure, I guess.” He hadn’t exactly wanted to turn to the guy, considering Fox always had about three ulterior motives at play. But it wasn’t like Cash had anyone he could trust left to turn to, and there was no way he would be able to track down Lawrence on his own. “How’s Staten Island these days?”
“It’s like Manhattan,” Fox answered. “Not as nice as the ferry.”
Cash chuckled as he glanced his occasional colleague from the corner of his eye. He had a black hoodie pulled up and an old backpack crumpled at his feet. If Cash hadn’t known better, he would think he was some overgrown delinquent teenager, instead of the polished and dangerous machine he’d trained himself to become.
“Why’d you want to meet, anyway?” Fox asked.
“Reed made a move on me.”
“I heard he caught you with your pants down, so to speak.”
Cash tensed. He adjusted his weight in the uncomfortable metal chair. “What have you heard, Fox?”
“Just whispers,” Fox answered casually. He took a sip of his own coffee, then let out a contented sigh. “You know how these criminal underworld types love to gossip.”
“Tell me what the whispers say,” Cash replied just as casually. The buzz could be anything, and he didn’t want to show his cards unless he had to. Developing feelings for Raiden and Lawrence had gotten him into this mess in the first place, and it was like Cash was always telling himself: the second you let your feelings get involved in his line of work, you were as good as dead anyway.
What an amateur mistake he had made, letting himself believe some little fantasy, when he knew damn well he didn’t deserve it anyway.
“All I know is that Reed snatched the guy you were following and that you’re taking it pretty damn personally.”
“That’s all?” Cash asked.
Fox cleared his throat. “You know, Cash, the other day I was thinking to myself, I could really use a new ride.”
Cash sighed. “A new ride?”
“Yeah, I was thinking about a motorcycle, but I don’t want it to be just any motorcycle. Something special. Like a scrambler that’s been customized for New York City living.” He kicked his legs out and set them on the railing in front of him. “That would make me pretty happy.”
Cash sucked in a slow breath. Water hit the side and the ferry, and they swayed gently as they made their way to Staten Island. He loved his damn bike, but Fox was already well aware of that. And it’s not like Cash had any other bright ideas to save Lawrence. “That’s a big fucking ask, Fox. You got something good for me?”
Fox waved his hand in the air in a lazy arc. “Probably. What do you want to know?”
“Where’s the kid?” Cash asked again, then popped up in his seat, his heart rate accelerating. “Tell me where Lawrence is, and you can have the damn bike.”
“What, do you think I’m the one who kidnapped him?”
“You better fucking not be,” Cash spat out. Fox was as deceitful as they came, but he tried not to hurt innocent people. It was one of the only reasons Cash ever worked with him in the first place. “But I’m sure you know where Reed takes his marks. No one keeps a black site secret from you in this city.”
“That’s true.” Fox nodded.
“So it’s a deal? The bike for the location of Reed’s black site?”
Fox clicked his tongue. “I don’t know about that. Reed would have my balls.” He snapped his head to the side, then smiled widely at Cash. “Don’t you think my balls are worth more than a motorcycle, Harvard?”
Cash frowned. “Get on with it.”
“I want your gear and your files. The computers. The hacker setup. The loony maniac genius bullshit you’ve got going on.”
“All of it?” Cash sputtered. He’d spent years building his gear up, and the idea of losing it felt like losing his damn superpower.
