Full Circle Rj Scott (best books for students to read .txt) 📖

Manny laughed and settled closer. There was nothing between them, they were pressed so close.

"Wait," Josh said, "someone will wake us right? If we're needed?"

"Yeah. Sleep."

Sleep is good.

Sean Hanson knew procedure. As an FBI agent he'd had procedure drilled into him and as an FBI Sanctuary liaison he knew exactly how the two arms of witness protection worked. He was an expert at freaking procedure.

Knowing how things knitted together to form process had saved his life on more than one occasion. The guards would relax the farther away from the Bureau that they went, and he knew where he was being taken. That gave him close to thirty minutes to think about procedure and focus on the right moment to make his move.

Casually, he glanced at the watch on the nearest guard's arm. Nearing midnight now, the moon was nothing more than a sliver of pale cream against the inky sky and as the distance grew between the light pollution of the city and the direction of their travelling the darkness increased.

"Do you have the time?" he asked politely of the same guard. In answer to the question all the guy did was stare at Sean pointedly. Robertson, according to his badge.

His expression was stony. He wouldn't say anything. Rule one of transporting prisoners between Bureau HQ and a Bureau safe house was not to engage with them in any way.

On top of that, if there was a ranking of bad guys then good cops gone bad were probably bottom of the pile. Okay, so he was a Fed not a cop, ex-Fed, he corrected himself, but the principle was the same. The watch meant something.

Every watch contained a tracker, hell, it had been him who had introduced the idea on all prisoner transports. He and Jake had talked the idea to death over red wine and steaks.

Familiar pain clutched at his chest and caused emotion to grip his throat. He shouldn't even be thinking about Jake.

Hell, he was one of the good guys. Sean was way past being one of those.

The van swayed and he slid a small way into the

other guard who sat next to him. This guy didn't have a watch that Sean could see. This was clearly the one tasked with assisting Sean's escape. He'd prefer it if there was no bloodshed involved so he considered the situation carefully.

His hands were cuffed in his lap. That gave him way more room for maneuvers than if they had been chained behind him. When the van lurched a little more the guard with the gun cursed the parentage of the driver.

When it happened it was quick. The van lurched again, only this time it stopped with a sudden braking movement and Robertson-with-a-watch scrambled to stand.

He raised his gun but the other guard knocked it from his hand. Quickly Sean was there, grabbing at the rolling weapon and at the watch on the guard's arm. A quick punch to Robertson's face rendered the guy unconscious, inevitably saving his life. Cursing broadly at the pain in his knuckles Sean shook his hand and then jumped down and out of his mobile prison. The driver of the van was already backing away into the thick wooded areas by the van.

Pretend-guard raised his gun.

"Leave him, you fucking idiot. Do you want the whole world to hear this?"

"I think—"

"You're not paid to think." Harsh, but true. There was another car. Another driver and in seconds Sean was away from the scene.

Carefully, he pocketed the watch and then slid the weapon into the front of his FBI issue scrubs. That was one thing he wasn't going to miss when he made it away from here.

"Clean extraction," the guard who assisted him said quickly. He was talking into a cell phone and pulled the cap from his head. Sean recalled the guy's name was something like Al, or similar. Settling back into the backseat of the car he smiled inwardly. He knew the Bullens would come through and get him out. He knew too much and was far too valuable to be left rotting inside the FBI. They may have only bought his help with information but Alastair Bullen wasn't stupid. A Fed who knew procedure and had useful material was priceless.

Everyone, it seemed, had bought into Sean Hanson.

As a thief. As a source of invaluable information. As a traitor. Digging into his pocket he rubbed a thumb over the edge of the watch, finding the small button that ordinarily changed the time. Depressing the button he felt relief washing over him. He just hoped the only person who maybe still had any faith in what was left in the shell of him got the message The tracker was engaged.

When Josh woke it was to someone banging on the door. Over and over.

"Wah?" he said. It was the most he could pull together. He ached in places he didn't even know existed.

The door opened. Clearly, Nik had decided the banging was enough warning.

"What's wrong?" Manny asked immediately. He was upright in the bed and he looked more alert than he was allowed to be.

"Sean's transport was compromised. He's twisting in the wind."

CHAPTER 14

Josh knew that Manny was still of the opinion that this Sean was one of the good guys. It must be a shock to have the guy liberated from FBI control and so squarely placing him actually as the bad guy. Josh watched his lover pacing and exchanged a look of worry with Morgan. Both Nik and Manny were taking this very hard.

"Fuck," Manny said emphatically.

Josh stood to get in the way of the pacing. "Does that affect your cover?"

"You mean, if we go out undercover again will Sean take one look at Nik and I, and call Sanctuary on our asses? Yes. We are dead in the water. Blown."

Josh wanted to commiserate but the selfish part of him was so damn pleased