Page 44 of The B-Team

Harris took that as an inquiry about how it went. “It was a good day. Sun was shining. Bride wore white. Abasi cried… just kidding. Your other mates were there—Joe, Beast, and Harvard.”

Grunt gave him a chin lift.

“The wedding was on the roof of Annabelle’s building, but you probably know that.”

Again, the head incline. Harris took that as agreement. “Honeymoon was a bit weird. Everybody else left, and Noah and Annabelle stayed home for two weeks. Annabelle has agoraphobia, which means there was no chance she’d honeymoon at the beach, so my brothers and I put up posters for her. We got them from a travel agent. Did you know they still have travel agents in this day and age? I thought everybody booked stuff on the internet because that’s what I do. Guess old people want to talk to a person behind a desk.” He stared at Grunt, trying to figure out his age. He couldn’t tell. “Are you pre-internet or post-internet?”

A low rumbling came from the giant.

“I’ll go with post.” Harris sauntered over to the bench platform and sat at the other end from Grunt. “My mum’s train should have been here by now, but it broke down. She’s stuck in the middle of nowhere between here and Scotland and says they’re bringing in buses for the rest of the trip. Who knows how long that will take. She’s a lawyer and was going to represent me. Instead, I had one of the Benson Security ones. They’re okay, but not as good as my mum. Have the cops talked to you yet?”

Grunt shook his head once.

“Are you going to answer them if they do? Because, seriously, my man, they expect actual words in the interview room. Just saying.”

Grunt just stared at him.

“Anyway,” Harris said. “What’s the deal with this commander guy? I thought Benson Security worked with the government, so why is he calling us terrorists? Am I missing something here?”

Grunt grunted, and Harris took that as an affirmative.

“That figures. Feels like I’m always missing something. I think it’s a generational thing. You older guys seem to have your own language. My brothers and I don’t have a clue what’s going on half the time. Although”—he grinned, pleased with himself—“I did have a few minutes alone with a very fine constable on the way here. Her name’s Sandy, same as her hair color. She told me that the commander has everyone looking for stuff on Lake. Says he only cares about putting Lake behind bars and anything anyone finds on the rest of us is leverage.”

Grunt just stared at him.

Harris shrugged. “People talk to me. Not you, obviously, but other people. Some even consider me charming.” He smiled at his cellmate. There was no response.Whatever.“Sandy said the commander’s been taking these hushed phone calls and that there’s pressure on him to get the job done. Sounds to me like somebody else might be pulling his strings. Any idea who?”

Grunt shook his head, but he looked thoughtful.

“Sandy said she’ll ask around and see if she can find out more,” Harris said. “She’s pulling a double shift, which means she’s on dinner duty. So we’ll see her when she comes with the food. I asked her to eat with me. Maybe you could pretend to be invisible if it looks like she’s got a few minutes to spare, huh? When I made this plan, I figured I’d be sharing a cell with Logan, and the whole identical brothers thing really does it forsome women. Not that we’re into sharing, you understand. But curiosity can make a girl talk. You know what I mean?”

Grunt stared.

Harris nodded. “You know what I mean.”

Grunt grunted. It sounded like a groan.

As Harris watched, the mountain got to his feet, strode to the door, and pressed the buzzer.

“You going somewhere?” Harris asked.

To his surprise, Grunt answered. “Need to call my wife.”

“Wait,” Harris said. “Didn’t you use your phone call to talk to a lawyer?”

Grunt cocked an eyebrow.

“Duh,” Harris said. “You knew the lawyers were already being called, so you sat on your one phone call. Smart. I wish I’d done that. I suspect me and my brothers all used our calls to talk to our mum, which is a waste of two calls because we were just repeating the same info. Next time we’re arrested, we’ll be more organized. We’ll designate one person to call Mum, and the rest will call other useful people. Although, that wouldn’t have worked this time because all the useful people we know are in here.”

There was the sound of a key in the lock, and the door swung open to reveal a young police officer dwarfed by Grunt’s size. The man visibly swallowed.

“Is there a problem?” he asked, looking up, up, up at Grunt.

“I need to make a call,” Grunt rumbled.

The cop stepped aside and gestured for Grunt to go ahead of him.

As he left their cell, Harris called after him, “I can smell food. Dinner’s coming. See if you can stretch out that call while I have some alone time with you-know-who.”