Chapter 2

Aaron Nash wrapped his arm around Ryan Sullivan's neck and, like so many people must often dream, squeezed. The two men lay grappling on the floor. Aaron wrapped his legs around the other guy and held the slippery bastard immobile. Sweat dripped into Aaron's eyes and his breath was hot in his lungs, but no way would he let Ryan out of this grip.

Aaron's moniker, a nickname he secretly hated, was "The Professor" because he was one of the few in the Hostage Rescue Team without a military or law enforcement background. Instead, he had an advanced degree in Biology and, except for a twist of fate, would have made that his life's work. Cowboy didn't have a military background either, but they could both hold their own on the team. And on the mat.

Ryan tapped out, and Aaron released the other man, and they rolled away from each other, panting hard.

"Who's next?" Ryan sounded hoarse but resigned. "Bring it on."

"Donnelly's the only one who hasn't kicked your ass yet today."

Ryan slumped onto his back, gym clothes dark with sweat. His face was flushed as he stared at the ceiling. "I'll concede now and avoid the humiliation."

Meghan Donnelly snorted.

Aaron pushed to his feet and held out his hand to the other operator. "Good idea. Save your energy for when Steel gets back from Maine."

Ryan grunted as he took his hand and let Aaron haul him to his feet. "Grady is gonna kill me. I was an asshole."

"Past tense?" Aaron arched a brow.

Ryan grinned but it didn't reach the man's eyes. "Probably not."

Aaron knew his friend was hurting. He wished he could help, but some people seemed to hoard their inner misery. Maybe it was what held them together.

He could hardly throw stones but, rather than dwell on the past, he preferred not to think about it. Unless it was shoved in his face, and then he had to grin and bear it.

Hunt Kincaid tossed them both a towel. Everyone on Gold team had taken a turn at hand-to-hand with Ryan this afternoon. Cowboy had held his own for a while, but after two hours he wouldn't be able to defend himself against a potato chip let alone highly skilled operators. Everyone had gained a little exercise and a lot of satisfaction. Ryan had gotten the message to keep his nose out of other people's business.

It might stick.

But Aaron doubted it.

They began heading toward the locker room when team leader Payne Novak strode in. "Who else is still in the compound?"

Aaron wiped the perspiration off his face. Gold team was comprised of two seven-person assault units, Echo and Charlie, plus one eight-person sniper unit. Most of the assaulters were in the gym or the locker rooms. "Everyone except the snipers who went home already."

Between serial killers, drug cartels and a rogue former FBI agent, Gold team had been run ragged since the turn of the year.

They'd lost two of their colleagues within a week of one another, and those losses had hit them all hard. Aaron still couldn't get his head around the fact Dave Monteith and Kurt Montana were both dead.

"What's up?"

Novak gave him a look that spelled trouble. "We may have a prison break."

"May?" Aaron raised a brow and smiled. "We don't know for sure?"

Novak's expression remained serious. "Overdue transport carrying two guards and four inmates from a Maximum-Security prison in western Massachusetts. Minibus went missing on the way to a medical facility during a blizzard."

That storm was sweeping down from the Canadian prairies and threatened to swathe half the continent.

Novak checked his watch. "It was due to arrive at the medical center around two-thirty p.m. After another hour went by with no prison transport, the medical facility called the prison, and the alarm was raised. State Troopers are out searching for the vehicle now. US Marshals are en route to the area and will be in charge of the incident should it prove to be an escape."

It was 4:30 p.m. now.

A pulse of excitement shot through Aaron. "Are we involved in the search?"

Novak shook his head. "Not yet."

The storm would make it too dangerous to get aircraft into the sky to look for heat signatures and also worked against personnel on the ground.

Aaron waited as Novak sent out the text alerting everyone to a crisis situation. Then he raised his voice for everyone still in the gym. "Wheels up in thirty."

"Where are we going?" asked Aaron.

They headed toward the locker rooms.

"DoJ got wind of who was on that transport and wants protection on several prominent figures related to their cases as a precaution." Novak stopped, his expression serious. "Apparently the BAU agrees."

"Who possibly escaped?"

"Reggie Somack, Michael Herbert, Perry Roberts."

Didn't ring any bells.

"And…Julius Leech," Novak finished.

"The serial killer?"

"Yeah. Although the other three are no angels. One high-level drug dealer, a guy who murdered his girlfriend and kidnapped her kid with intent to traffic her, and a serial rapist."

Aaron pressed his lips together. "You think Leech is going after the lawyer whose family he murdered?"

Novak shrugged. "Or the lawyer who failed to save him from prosecution the second time around, or the judge who sentenced him to life without the chance of parole, or witnesses who testified against him. I seem to remember he made a lot of threats in that courthouse when he was convicted."

"Where was that again?"

"Boston. The judge retired outside of the city. The lawyer who lost the case has a fancy private firm in the city, and Hope Harper is now an assistant district attorney for the Suffolk County District Attorney's office."

Aaron vaguely remembered her. At the time of the murders, he'd been doing his master's on an island in French Polynesia. The double homicide of husband and child had made sensational headlines even in that remote part of the world. Some people had called it divine justice after she'd defended an accused serial killer and gotten him released. Aaron didn't think the murder of two innocents should ever be acceptable collateral damage for someone else's choices. He was all for people paying for their own crimes.

Defense attorneys were a necessary evil, but having been grilled numerous times on the stand as a field agent, he wasn't a fan.

"Seems unlikely Leech would head back to the lion's den simply for revenge. Unless he's innocent and looking for a one-armed man," Aaron scoffed, referring to the Harrison Ford movie.

Novak smiled, but the edges were strained. The guy had fallen easily into a leadership role, but Aaron knew he'd give it up in an instant to have their old boss back.

Wishful thinking. Montana's memorial service was in ten days despite them not having a body to bury.

"I guess we're off to Boston?"

Novak nodded. "ASAP. Even though it's unlikely Leech will go anywhere near Beantown. It'll be a good training opportunity and give the FNGs some experience with close-protection work."

The "Fucking New Guys" on Gold team were his equipment cage partner Hunt Kincaid, plus Will Griffin, and Meghan Donnelly—the first woman ever to make it through Selection.

"I'm putting you in charge of Echo squad for this one. Romano has Charlie. We'll get updates en route as to the exact location of our principals."

"Have they been informed yet?"

"Not that I'm aware." Novak strode away.

There was a lot to organize if they hoped to beat this storm. Aaron stripped for a quick shower.

"Where're we headed?" Ryan was already drying off.

"Boston."

Ryan's expression brightened. "What are we doing in Boston?"

"Probably freezing our asses off protecting people from a non-existent threat."

"Fun. I have friends in Boston." Ryan had friends everywhere. "Beats getting my ass kicked all day."

"We can still kick your ass in the field." Aaron gave him a look that told him all was not forgiven.

Ryan shot him a sardonic grin and drawled in his best Montana accent, "Well, Professor, you can certainly try."