Things Happen That Way by Tinnean

Author:Tinnean
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: gay spies, gay adult romance gay contemporary gay contemporary romance
Publisher: Tinnean

I stared at the smoking ruin of the façade of the building and felt my stomach roll over. The remains of a wrecked car were accordioned against it. Broken glass and shattered brick littered the sidewalk and a good portion of the street.

“This is where the Division is housed? Jesus, what happened?”

“De Becque had the car filled with plastique and driven into the building.”

“Jesus,” I said again. It was a wonder the building was still standing. “Is it a good idea for us to enter this way?” The police had lined up to form a barricade to prevent onlookers from approaching too closely.

“Don’t worry about the police judiciaire interfering with us. They’re our operatives. This was de Becque’s plan.”

“Blowing up the building?” I frowned. It didn’t say much for his mentality. And if it got Mark injured, I’d erase everyone involved with extreme prejudice. “What an idiotic—”

“Still, it’s what caused the distraction that got them in.”

“How do you know that?”

She took out her cell phone, activated a program, and handed it to me. Something about it looked familiar—I had a similar program on my phone which I’d found after Mark had fiddled with it one weekend.

“What am I looking at?”

“This links me to Homme. He let me know they made it into the cellars of the antique shop on rue de Navarin, and from there into the Division.”

“So that was how they got in.” I gave her back the phone, took mine from my pocket, and found what I was looking for. I’d known it was some sort of GPS program, but that Mark would want to be that securely connected to me gave me a warm feeling in my chest.

“Yes.” She studied the readout on her phone for a second, before swearing and stalking toward the door that hung on its hinges. “Those fools!” she snarled. “They’ve gone down to the subbasement.”

“Then that’s where we’re going.” A red heart, which I assumed represented Mark’s cell phone, pulsed deep in the bowels of the Division. I raised my gaze to Femme’s.

The look she spared me was unfriendly. “Of course. Louis, respirators!” She showed me her phone. On the screen was a text message I would have preferred not to read: Use caution! Tactics threatens to flood the Dungeon with CO. “Tactics” was how Robert Lynx was referred to within the Division.

“Can we trust who sent that message?” I knew it wasn’t Mark. He wouldn’t have used the name “Tactics,” and in fact would have sneered at such a juvenile appellation.

She nodded. “It’s Homme. I have to get down there immediately.”

“The Division has a dungeon in its building?”

“No, I have a Dungeon.” Just from the way she said it, I could understand why Homme capitalized the word. “It’s where I do my best work. Louis, are you waiting for an engraved invitation?”

“Pardon, Femme.”

He ducked into a cruiser and returned with two half mask respirators. He held them out to Femme, letting them dangle from their straps. His face had a greenish cast, and I knew, given his line of work, he wasn’t frightened by the situation.

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