Page 112 of Heartbreak Hero

Just fucking great. He squeezed his hands into fists and scowled. So much for staying under the radar of the local cops.

“Yeah, well,” he said, jerking his head toward the two FBI agents who’d followed them into the room. “Those two clowns started shooting the minute Sphinx showed up.”

“He’s a wanted fugitive,” FBI Agent Swather snarled, running a hand over his shiny black comb-over.

“That’s right,” Agent Sweenie said, backing up his partner, puffing out his chest in an attempt to look bigger.

Dalton scowled and Sweenie glanced away.

“Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum are out for blood,” Dalton snapped.

Someone moved from the corner of the office, and Dalton had his weapon pulled out of his holster before the person even registered. Old habits from his military days kept him on his toes.

“Put that away,” Ace ordered, and he tucked the gun back.

“You remember Agent Farnsworth,” Ace continued.

Dalton squinted at the flat-faced, sixty-something, pudgy man with a mustache that curled over his top lip. The guy twisted the end of the hairs like he was some character from Sherlock Holmes, the wannabe motherfucker.

He gave the guy a dark look before turning back to Ace.

“You want Sphinx alive or dead?” he rasped.

“Dead,” Farnsworth said.

“Alive,” Ace snapped, throwing Farnsworth an annoyed look.

“Then next time, you might want to keep the team to in-house staff only,” Dalton said.

Through the exchange, neither Mason nor Gage spoke a word, but he knew they felt the same. Pegasus worked well when they didn’t have outside help, and after six fucking weeks of playing cat and mouse to a national traitor, Sphinx had finally agreed to a meeting. They’d even gotten close enough to exchange words. Albeit, the words were shouted, but that was a fuck ton closer than ever before. And it had all been for nothing.

“These two are more like hired guns than agents.” He jerked his head to the FBI agents.

“Fuck you!” Sweenie snarled, still puffed up.

“You seemed to be in an awful hurry to kill him.” Dalton’s voice dripped with innuendos. “I wonder why that is?”

“Rein your man in or I’ll do it for you,” Farnsworth snapped at Ace.

And holy fuck was that the wrong thing to say to the boss.

Ace went still, much like a cobra would. His boss locked those silvery eyes on Farnsworth.

“Get the fuck out of my facility.” The words were growled.

It took a moment for the order to register to the Special Agent-in-Charge and when they did, the man’s face turned a deep shade of purple.

“This is my case! You were brought in because I was told you were the best.” Farnsworth fisted his hands. “You can’t fire me.”

“Get out,” Ace repeated, half rising from his chair.

“This is bullshit! You haven’t heared the end of this,” Farnsworth sputtered, tripping in his haste to back away from Ace.

“Tell it to the SecDef at your next luncheon,” Ace said between clenched teeth with a tiny muscle ticking in his jaw.

After Farnsworth beat a hasty retreat, Ace slowly settled back in his chair.

“You two might as well join your boss,” Dalton said to the other two FBI agents, beating Ace to it.

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