Thin Line by L.T. Ryan Read Free Book Online Page B

alive. I rescued the other, and in
    doing so, made myself a target. The cartel had reach, and Frank knew that they'd have a man positioned at every possible destination airport looking for
    me. We hopped on a puddle jumper to the Caymans, then a charter to this same airstrip.
    Bear hadn't been around for that operation. He was finishing his stint in the Marines. After he retired from the military and I left the SIS, we formed our
    contracting company. It'd led us around the world.
    And back to that same airstrip.
    I didn't want to speculate why. Who might be after us. Frank could explain all that when we saw him. If we saw him, I figured.
    The cabin door opened and one of the flight crew stepped out. He was a tall man, rail thin. His voice was twice as deep as Bear's.
    "You guys can exit now. Your ride is already here."
    Bear rose and headed toward the front of the plane as the man opened the door and lowered the stairs. I got up and stopped halfway. Once Bear reached the
    opening, he surveyed the scene, then signaled that it was OK to depart.
    A cold gust, laced with jet-fuel fumes, smacked me in the face as I emerged from the fuselage. My eyes burned and watered. Brown grass surrounded the
    strip. The storm had apparently missed the area. Overhead, the sun fragmented the clear blue sky. I reached out for the frigid stair railing and descended
    to the ground.
    Frank stood next to a black full-sized Chevy SUV. He had on a heavy black overcoat and black leather gloves. Practically blended in with the vehicle. He
    nodded at me and opened the back driver's side door.
    Bear walked up to the man. They exchanged words, and then both looked toward me. Neither trusted the other. Each could do without the other. It had been
    like that since I started working with Frank at the SIS.
    "Good to see you, Jack," Frank said as I approached.
    I nodded, left my hands in my pockets. "You too."
    Neither of us meant it.
    The three of us stood outside the SUV for several seconds, freezing in the blustery cold. No one spoke.
    "We gonna talk out here, or you got somewhere to take us?" Bear said.
    "Yeah, get in," Frank said. "One of you sit up front."
    "I'm good in back," Bear said, halfway into the SUV's middle row.
    Behind me and next to Bear sat another man neither of us had seen before. His hair was neat and brown and short, his cheeks slightly red. His dark suit
    wasn't cheap, wasn't expensive. He'd spent some money on the overcoat, though. I figured the same would be true of his shoes, if I could see them.
    Frank slid in and said, "Let me introduce you guys to Joe Dunne. Joe's been working on a related case for at least a year. When I started pulling
    information up, it was flagged for me to contact him."
    "Who does he work for?" I asked.
    "He's right there, Jack. Why not ask him?"
    I glanced up at the mirror positioned in the middle of the visor. "Well?"
    "FBI."
    "What the hell is going on over there, Frank? I leave, and now you're cutting deals with the Feebs?"
    "Jack."
    "Frank."
    "Listen," Joe Dunne said from the backseat. "I don't care about inter-agency pissing matches. Doesn't matter to me whose is longer. I've forgotten the two
    incidents where I was bumped off a case due to SIS involvement."
    Frank coughed. "Enough. Christ. What is this? High school? Cut it out, Jack. We've got some serious stuff to discuss here."
    We pulled away from the airstrip. The cabin quieted to a hum. Occasionally, a stray piece of gravel pelted the undercarriage. I glanced over my shoulder.
    Bear leaned against the door and had his eyes closed. Guess that meant all the talking, and explaining, and arguing, would be left up to me.
    We stopped at the security station. Frank showed his credentials to the man. A moment later, the gate parted and let us out.
    Frank said, "So, what happened in the city?"
    "How much can I say?" I stared at Joe Dunne in the mirror.
    "I've read him in. He understands the penalty that can be incurred for repeating anything you say