“You’re a piece of work.” Buck leaned back into his executive desk chair and cursed. “If this was clean, her death wouldn’t have raised an eyebrow. I told you, find a throwaway observer to bring with you. Suspended ATF agent? Few family or friends? She sounded easy, perfect. But now it’s messy.”

“Price of greed, my friend. I can’t help how shit went down. I certainly didn’t foresee The Titan Group thrown in the mix. Imagine my surprise when they arrived to save my ass. I’d sooner expect you.”

“I don’t go into the field anymore.” Buck crossed his arms.

Kip laughed. No shit. Buck was a face guy these days. He’d packaged up all his brutality so that he could shake hands in DC and secure jobs. Glad-handing son of a bitch. “I know. That was a joke, man. Seriously, though. What do you want from me?”

“No complications. That’s what I ordered. That’s what I expect.”

“No complications? Christ, you and your boys caused enough problems that IA had to get involved. No one would’ve noticed a few missing millions.”

“Pearson—”

“Greed always trumps good ol’ common sense. You had to go for multi-million. And selling the guns? Not the smartest move, ol’ Buckaroo.” Kip twirled the cinnamon stick in his finger. Its burnt-orange stain was already set deep on his knuckles.

“You took the money, too.” Ignoring the name-calling, his boss levied the charge like it should scare him. “If I go down, you go down.”

“Shaking in my Levi’s.” Kip couldn’t help but urge the bastard on. He’d walked in wanting a fight. But no matter what he wanted, Buck wouldn’t step up to a ring-side showdown.

“I will pummel your face. Don’t care if I am wearing a tailored suit.”

Yeah, right. “Unless you’re down for blows, Buck, let’s finish this up. I was a dirty cop before you hired me. No shame here.” And there wasn’t. He’d been on the take for years, and he had a nice life to show for it. Big house. Kickin’ truck. Cell phone full of pros who would roll out of his bed with a smile. “You offered me this job with a solid explanation of my future duties and compensation. I’ve been covering up your good-time ways and cashing my paychecks. It’s all good.”

Buck smoothed the front of his suit, and his irritation was as clear as the cost of the Rolex on his wrist. “How do you propose we fix this?”

“Well, shit, man. I’m not one of your special operations leaders—”