“You’re welcome. We were going to come get you,” she said, smiling.
“Yeah, we definitely were,” Nick said, elbowing him. He scooped a big bite into his mouth.
“Uh-huh. Right after you finished eating them all,” Marz said, pouring a healthy serving of syrup atop his stack. “I know how you assholes are.” He sliced his fork into the soft cakes and took a big bite. “Oh, these are good, Becca. Thank you.”
“No problem. You guys ate on the go all day yesterday, so I figured you could use something hot to start off today.”
Marz nodded around another sweet bite. “Oh,” he said as he swallowed. “Mattress delivery is here. Jeremy went to meet ’em.”
“I’ll go see if he needs help,” Shane said from where he leaned against the bar.
“Just chill out, McCallan,” Marz said, eyeballing Shane like maybe he was worried about him. “Ike’s helping him. And the deliverymen.”
Shane nodded. Might as well get another cup of coffee, then.
“Make any progress on the facial-recognition work?” Nick asked Marz. They’d taken hundreds of photographs last night so Marz could run a comparison of the images against online arrest-record databases. Fortunately, all that information, including the booking photographs, was public record.
“Jeremy entered the pictures of the fifteen unknown men from last night’s op into the facial-recognition search I set up. It’ll take a while to start seeing results.”
“Find anything on Garza?” Shane asked. He still couldn’t get over the guy’s appearance. Finding prior SF mixed up in all of this just ate at his gut. Where was the honor? Where was the integrity? To think his brothers had been killed by some of their own. Shane shook his head.
Marz swallowed a bite. “Short answer is no. Long answer is that Garza’s a freaking ghost. No phone numbers, no Web presence, no social-media accounts, no memberships in any of the various SF forums or alumni groups. That only leaves a hack into Army and Veterans Affairs personnel records, which is some serious shit.”
“Didn’t Charlie say he’d done that?” Nick asked, pushing his plate away.
“Yeah. Just didn’t want to bug him until he was on the mend,” Marz said. “But I want to pick his brain about how he did it without bringing a detachment of MPs down on his head.” Marz sipped his coffee and shook his head. “I also had to restart the Port Authority registries search. Keeps crashing.”
“It lives,” croaked a voice from the side of the room. Charlie. In a pair of scrub bottoms and a white T-shirt, and holding his bandaged hand and forearm against his stomach. A round of cheerful greetings sounded out from everyone.
Shane gave him a once-over—a little pale and a lot drawn, but conscious with none of the feverish symptoms of just thirty-six hours ago. He counted that a major victory.
“Sit here,” Beckett said, emptying his seat and pushing his plate to the side.
“Thanks,” Charlie said, sliding onto the end seat.
Becca came around to his side and put her hand against his forehead. “How are you?”
“I feel like somebody cut off my fingers,” he said, a tired but amused expression on his pale face.
The men all gave a low chuckle. Gallows humor was common among people who had to deal with life and death on a daily basis, so Shane respected Charlie’s ability to address his new reality head-on. They all did.
Becca ruffled his hair and rolled her eyes. “I’m serious.”
“Me too,” he said, bumping his shoulder into her. “Got any left?”
Her expression brightened. “Yes, definitely.” She plated him two big, golden pancakes and Marz slid him the bottle of syrup.
“Good to see you up and around, man,” Marz said, leaning forward so he could see Charlie.
Charlie nodded. “I’m going a little batshit lying in there.”
“Well, when you’re ready, I’d love to pick your brain about some things.”
“Shower first,” he said with a small smile. “If I’m still standing afterward . . .”
Finishing his pancakes, Marz nodded. “Fair enough.” He pushed off the stool and deposited his plate in the sink. “Thank you, ma’am,” he said, squeezing Becca in against his side. “You’re too good to us.”
She shook her head. “I’m with Charlie. I can’t just sit around and do nothing. Feeding you guys isn’t much, but at least it keeps me busy.”
Nick rose off his stool, came around the island, and settled his plate in the sink, too. “An army can’t march on an empty stomach, sunshine. We appreciate it. And don’t forget you’ve been funding this whole operation. So none of this would be possible without your support all the way around,” he said, pulling Becca into his arms. From the very beginning, Becca had offered up her father’s life-insurance monies without reservation. After all, bullets and computers and pancakes didn’t grow on trees. “And this won’t last forever.”
“No,” Easy said. “But it’s not clear how long it will last. How’s everyone situated if this drags out?”
“I’ve already told the firms that hire me for process serving that I’m going to be unavailable for a few weeks,” Nick said.
“I put in for two weeks’ leave,” Shane said. “And I’ll ask for more if we need it.”
Beckett braced his hands against the counter near Charlie. “I farmed out what I could, pushed back what I couldn’t hand off to someone else, and have put out the word I’m not taking on any new clients right now,” Beckett said, referring to his private security firm in D.C.
Like Beck, Marz was self-employed, too, doing computer-security consulting. “Same thing,” Marz said. “I finished the two most time-sensitive projects I had on my plate the other night, and let everyone else know I’m off the grid for a while.”
Charlie rubbed his good hand over his messy blond hair. “Shit. I’ve got some people probably wondering where I am,” he said. “I need to send some emails today. Oh.” He looked around the group. “I need to get my laptops from Becca’s basement.”
Nick frowned. “Tell me where they are, and I’ll run over and get them later. But as far as the world is concerned, you’re a missing person. Until we figure more of this out, maybe it’s better to leave it that way.”
“Oh?” Charlie rubbed his palm over his forehead. “If you say so, I will.”
“Is it safe to go to my place?” Becca said, looking up at Nick.
“To stay? Probably not.” Not after the place had been tossed twice in the past week. “But a quick in and out should be fine. I’ll be careful,” he said, kissing Becca’s hair.
“How ’bout you, E?” Marz said.
Shane studied the guy. From one burdened man to another, he didn’t think he was imagining that Easy looked like the weight of the world sat on his shoulders.
“Oh, uh. I’ve been working for my father, so it’s cool.” He twisted his paper napkin in his hands.
“Yeah? A family business?” Beckett said. “What is it?”
“Philly’s largest auto parts dealer,” he said in a flat voice.
Auto parts? Not exactly where Shane would’ve expected their weapons and explosives specialist to end up, but who was he to judge?
“Well, sounds like we’re squared away for at least a little while,” Marz said. “I’m getting back to it. When you people are done lollygagging, come over and let’s make a plan.”
“Lollygagging?” Beckett said, smirking. “Has anyone used that word since 1952?”
“I’m bringing it back, baby,” Marz said, flicking Beckett the middle finger over his shoulder.
Jeremy entered just as Marz reached the door. “All set,” Jer said, as he and Marz joined the group at the island. “We’ve got three brand-new beds ready to use upstairs.” Jeremy headed to the kitchen and poured a cup of coffee.