The Last Stand of Charlotte Dodd: Fun, Action Chick Lit Spy Saga

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The Last Stand of Charlotte Dodd: Fun, Action Chick Lit Spy Saga Page 3

by Holly Kerr


  In the meantime, I breathe deep, in and out. In and out.

  It’s not the becoming a mother idea that’s causing me this slight bit of panic, it’s what I’d have to give up to become one.

  But I would like something of Ham’s. I want his baby. Someday—whether that’s now or nine months from now, it’s something I need to think about.

  I close the door to my internal monologue as I close the door to my room, and head to the elevator. Tenley and Pippa stand before the silver doors, talking animatedly. “I’m telling her about how we took down that guy outside the theatre,” Pippa calls as she sees me approach. “The magazine idea was bloody brilliant. Instant Charley horse on the wanker and the book didn’t even bend.”

  “I’ve used it a few times.”

  “Seamus told me about the time you took out the two big guys with Benjy,” Tenley says eagerly. Even with my memories stored in her head, both her and Pippa still like hearing my tales about different missions and situations.

  “It was more about taking out the guys for Benjy, rather than with him,” I correct. “But that was him roping me back into the Agency, so I don’t know how much of that was legit. They were pretty big, though. And the magazine worked well.”

  “Personally, I don’t know the wanker Benjy, but does that surprise you? About Benjy not pulling his weight?” Pippa asks. “I mean, he tried to kidnap—” She cuts off abruptly and I turn to see what has caught her attention.

  Lance is walking towards us with Minka Grace. The giant of a woman used to work for the Agency, switched to her alliance to Mielson because they paid better, and is now back to being an agent for us because, hey, we’re the good guys. Not only was Minka my former nemesis, but she was also part of Benjy’s nefarious plan to steal my memories, so neither Tenley nor I am overly comfortable with her being back with the Agency.

  Pippa, of course, loves everyone and was the driving force behind Ham agreeing to give Minka another chance.

  Seeing Minka with Lance isn’t the surprise, but seeing them holding hands is.

  “Whaaaat’s…that…?” Pippa demands, wide-eyed and staring.

  “Why is he with her?” Tenley hisses.

  “Ready to go, ma’am,” Lance says with a nod as he stops before us.

  I’m surprised Lance doesn’t include a salute with his words. I’ll have to tell him later that I don’t like the ma’am addition. Instead, I pull my gaze away from the new couple and punch the button to summon the elevator.

  “Good luck.” Minka has a smirk on her face, one I have to tilt my head to look at. The Amazon-like woman is at least a foot taller than I am. And then, Minka kisses Lance—a full-on, open-mouth kiss. Right in front of us.

  While they’re still kissing, the elevator arrives. Since I’m still staring, Pippa pushes me in.

  “What was that?” I demand as soon as Lance steps in. Minka is still smirking as the doors close in her face.

  “Is there a problem?” Lance asks in a worried voice. “Is there a policy about dating other agents?”

  “Is that what you’re doing?” Pippa snorts. “Dating? That was more than a post-shag snog than any date!”

  “Pardon?” Lance turns from my frown to Pippa’s laughing face.

  “We just want to know what you are doing with Minka?” Tenley growls.

  “Who?” Lance’s head swivels from Pippa to Tenley and back to me, confusion written over his handsome face.

  “Minka? Minka Grace? The Amazon you were snogging just a moment ago,” Tenley asks with disbelief.

  “Minka Grace is a former NIIA operative who went rogue and switched alliances to Mielson. She has now returned to the fold and we are glad to have her,” Agatha reports helpfully.

  “Not all of us,” Tenley mutters. My relationship with Minka has always been one of grudging respect on both parts, so it’s a little more civil than Tenley’s. Not great, but better.

  “I call her Genevieve.” And Lance gives such a sweet smile that I fall silent under its charm.

  “Do you, now? Fancy yourself as part of a love story? Or is she just keeping your bed warm?”

  “Pippa,” I hiss. “It’s none of our business.”

  “Maybe you can’t stand hearing the dirty bits, but I’ve got nothing better to do.” Pippa turns her gaze towards Lance and bats her eyes at him. “Do tell.”

  We reach the garage level before Lance can respond, and for once he scurries out of the elevator without waiting for us, followed by Pippa’s laughter.

  Declan has the van waiting, with Perry already inside.

  “This is a basic in and out,” he begins as soon as Declan pulls out of the parking garage. “A snatch and grab, which is right up your alley,” he says to Pippa.

  Pippa may treat Lance like our mascot, but Perry’s attitude towards Pippa is worse. He’s half-admiring of her abilities, half disdainful that she began her career as a thief.

  She’s a very good thief; sneaky and quiet when she needs to be, plus we haven’t found a locked door that she can’t break into.

  As Declan drives to the private airstrip, I take a moment to leaf through the dossier for the mission.

  Bryton Raak, 34, was posed to win the election and become the youngest president in the history of Suriname.

  Father was former president Byron Raak; mother was Rebecca Raak. Both deceased.

  My mother’s name was also Rebecca. But that fact doesn’t cause the uncomfortable lurching sensation in my stomach when I read about Rebecca Raak’s death by domestic terrorism.

  She was killed by a car bomb.

  I take a deep breath to help the nausea. Something about Rebecca Raak’s death has hit me hard and I have no idea why. It’s a horrible feeling; worse than when you walk into a room to get something and forget what you needed.

  When I glance up, Tenley is staring at me with a concerned expression on her face. “Get anything?”

  “Just the feeling I get when I open the fridge and forget what I want to eat.” Angrily I clap the folder closed. “Do you know all this?”

  “What’s in the dossier—yes. From your memories, some of it. I have to search if you want more.”

  Tenley once explained that searching through my memories is like leafing through a pile of file folders; it’s easy if things are filed correctly, but that doesn’t always happen. Plus, between the two of us, we’ve figured out that events and incidents that are classified as bad memories are usually difficult to find, like I’ve hidden them in Tenley’s own mind.

  It’s complicated and confusing and I’ll never forgive Benjy for putting her through this. Or what’s it’s done to me.

  “Don’t worry about it,” I say. “If it’s important, it’ll come back to me.”

  “Have more of your memories come back?” The van is big, but there’s six of us inside and it’s impossible to have a private conversation. Pippa doesn’t even bother to pretend that she isn’t listening.

  “Bits and pieces,” I admit. “I’ve found that certain smells are good triggers, as well as sounds. And being in the same place helps too.”

  “So any memories of Suriname might be triggered by you being there?” Tenley asks.

  “Maybe. We’ll see. If they do come back, then I don’t have to bug you.”

  “It doesn’t bug me,” she says softly. “I told you that you can ask me anything.”

  I shrug and turn back to the dossier. I don’t like to talk about my missing memories at the best of times, but even less when there’s something I should know about and I don’t.

  “Christmas is in ten days,” she says to change the subject. Tenley has a strange ability to pick up on my moods.

  “I’ve noticed the snow,” I say drily.

  “How can you not notice it? There’s heaps and piles everywhere.” Pippa hugs herself like she’s trying to keep warm, even though the van is toasty with all our bodies close together. “What’s with the countdown to Christmas?”

  “I want to invite everyone for C
hristmas dinner,” Tenley says firmly. “Simon is Jewish, so Lucy and I never really got to have a full, family celebration. Now that there’s Seamus, and I know you all so well…” She smiles hesitantly. “Come for Christmas dinner?”

  “All of us?”

  “Everyone.”

  “Ham did promise to try with Seamus.” I muse. “This might be a good place to start. And I like turkey.”

  “Free food?” Pippa exclaims. “You had me at invite.”

  “Who’s everyone?” Lance asks awkwardly.

  “Of course you’re invited,” Tenely says with a smile.

  “Minka, too?”

  “Blimey, you are dating her!” Pippa explodes. “There’s no way you’re coming to Tenley’s unless you tell us exactly everything that’s going on with the two of you. Starting right now.”

  I laugh as Lance does his best to dodge Pippa’s questions, his handsome face blushing a deeper red with each stammered reply.

  If I have a baby, I’ll miss this…The rising excitement before a mission, the comradery between partners, working with a group I care about.

  Can I give it up?

  Chapter Five

  “Contrary to popular belief, I know exactly what I’m doing.”

  Tony Stark

  Eight hours later, Declan sets down on an abandoned airstrip outside the city of Paramaribo, where a black van in need of serious bodywork waits for us.

  “I have to stay with the plane,” Declan says as he surveys the beat-up vehicle. He looks uncomfortable with us driving into the city without him.

  “I’ve been doing this just as long as you have.” Pippa blows him a kiss and heads to the driver’s side. “And I’m just as good of a driver.”

  “You wish.” Declan’s smile fades as he meets my gaze. “Be careful,” he mouths.

  I heft my bag over my shoulder. “Always do.”

  “He’s a worse control freak that my mother was,” Pippa grumbles after we load up and she pulls away from the airport.

  “I think it’s cute,” Tenley says with a fond smile. “He just wants to make sure you’re okay.”

  “Is this how it’s going to be? We’re supposed to defend the brothers to each other?” Pippa speeds up down the darkened road. The sun is set but the moon hasn’t risen and everything feels slightly spooky.

  “I’ll defend Declan over you unless you tell me you know where you’re going,” I mutter, checking the GPS on my phone. I might have spent time in Paramaribo, but nothing looks familiar. The airfield was deserted and the road into the city is just as empty. There should be vehicles, people—something.

  I have a bad feeling about this.

  I open my mouth to comment but think twice. There’s no reason getting the others worried because things are quiet. It might be a holiday or something. Maybe a celebration happening somewhere.

  “Civilization straight ahead.” Am I imagining it, or does Pippa sound relieved? Maybe I’m not the only one whose spidey-sense is on high alert.

  “Why is the city glowing?”

  I’m not imagining the concern in Tenley’s voice.

  “You need to find a spot close enough to leave the van,” I order Pippa as we approach the city limits. “We’ll go in on foot.”

  “The Presidential mansion is in the centre of the town,” Tenley says. “Raak will be there.”

  “And if he isn’t?” Pippa grumbles. “Am I the only one who thinks this’ll be like finding a needle in the haystack?”

  “We have our orders.” Rundown shacks and houses in need of repair fill the empty spaces along the road, set close enough together that neighbours will undoubtedly know everything about each other.

  “Where are the people?” Tenley whispers.

  “No doubt they think this is a bad idea too,” Pippa says wryly. “Is there any word from Perry about what’s going on?”

  “No report,” Lance says, checking his earpiece.

  We proceed at a slower pace. The anxiety level in the van is palpable. Lance clutches his rifle like someone is threatening to steal it.

  I check my weapons for the third time; a small, snub-nosed revolver tucked into the belt of my jumpsuit, a knife hidden in my boot, and my favourite, a flexible metal bar Ida likes to call the lightsaber. It extends at the snap of a wrist and at the press of a button, the innocuous bar lights up with enough electricity to knock a two-hundred-pound man on his ass. Press the button three times and it starts to glow, ready to cut through anything.

  It’s a fun toy. Ida’s tried to explain the technology to me, but there was no point because it just goes over my head.

  In my knapsack are a coil of rope and a grappling hook, as well a spider which helps me climb walls, and a tube of a substance that dissolves glass. The others each carry something different in their bags.

  “Leave the van two blocks from the mansion,” I instruct, the GPS on my phone lighting up the front seat. “Turn here.”

  The city of Paramaribo itself seems to be on fire, the streets lit with a ruddy glow from flaming cars and shop windows.

  “Oh,” I say, for lack of anything else.

  I hear the shouting in the distance as soon as Pippa turns off the engine of the van. And the shooting.

  In the street ahead, I see distant forms flickering in and out of the shadows, but the area we’re in is empty. A few of the stores are in flames, more with broken windows. The looters have been here, with garbage everywhere, papers floating in the air.

  “I guess the coup is still going on,” Pippa says in a hushed voice as we double check weapons at the rear of the van.

  “Stay together and keep close.” With my gun in one hand and my handy bar in the other, we start down the street, two on each side and always staying in sight.

  Tenley pauses at the sight of a body protruding from an alley. “Keep going,” I order and Pippa shoves her to keep moving.

  I hear cries in the distance, shouting. Screams.

  The next corner brings us to the president’s mansion. It’s no White House; instead, it’s an impressive townhouse with an iron gate barring the door.

  It’s already in flames.

  I freeze on the street, not because of the flames, but because I’ve been here, been inside. I can feel the slick hardwood floors beneath my feet, see the sunshine brightening the rooms, smell the flowers in the garden in the back.

  I’m back in my memories, bright and vivid, and full of a man.

  He’s tall with curling dark hair in need of a cut, with hooded brown eyes that never stop dancing.

  He makes me laugh.

  I’m not sure how long I stand there, lost, staring at the fire, but I finally realize Pippa is shouting at me as she and Tenley cross the street at a run to huddle with me and Lance by the corner of a building.

  We stare at the house, at the smoldering roofs of the neighbouring houses.

  “What are we doing?” Lance shouts, his eyes wide. This is a first for him, the first mission, first fire. “Where is he? He’s supposed to be here!”

  I tap my earpiece to connect me with Perry back at the plane, but loud static fills my ear. Popping the earpiece out, I stick it in my pocket. “Someone’s jamming the signal.”

  “Do they know we’re here?” Tenley whispers, but I shake my head.

  “Something else is obviously going on and we’re stuck in the middle of it.” The sounds of gunfire reverberate inside my head and I breathe deep to control my fear. “We have a mission,” I say. “We find Bryton Raak and get out.”

  “How are we supposed to do that?” Tenley cries. “The intel was wrong, Charlie, it isn’t supposed to be like this.”

  “We still have a mission.” I stand, and with another deep breath, peer around the corner of the building. The intel Perry gave us was indeed wrong, and now we’re faced with a task as impossible as the needle in the haystack job. Paramaribo isn’t a big city, but I have no idea where to start to look for Bryton. He could be anywhere.

  I close my eyes, thin
king of the dossier I read. Thinking about how Bryton had supposedly been one of my best friends at one time. How could I not remember anything about him?

  A horrific crash sounds and my eyes fly open as the roof of the president’s mansion collapses. “You don’t think he’s in there, do you?” Pippa asks, the dust and grime already painting her cheeks gray.

  “No.” I stare down the street, at the flaming garbage cans, at people in the distance with bats and axes breaking windows of stores, of cars, burnt and busted blocking the street. At the end of the street facing the mansion is a movie theatre. Beside it is a bakery. “He’ll be there,” I say, pointing with my lightsaber.

  “How do you know?” Pippa demands.

  “I don’t.”

  Tenley stands up, gripping her bar with a white-knuckled hand. “Let’s go.”

  But he isn’t there. We search the theatre first, finding a movie still playing, and popcorn burning behind the concession stand. I want to call for Bryton, shout his name over and over again, but others may be looking for him too.

  “Clear,” Lance says as he jogs back from checking the washrooms. “No sign of him.”

  I turn off the popcorn maker before it catches on fire. “Check the bakery?” Tenley suggests.

  I nod my consent. “Through the alley. We’ll check behind the buildings.”

  “Do you know something about this guy that we don’t?” Pippa asks irritably.

  I shake my head. “It’s just a feeling.”

  “You guys used to come here a lot,” Tenley says. “If he knows you’re coming for him, this is where he’d wait.”

  I blink with surprise, pleased to be vindicated. “Ok, move out.”

  The alley is empty. Even the rats have fled.

  Lance kicks down the back door of the bakery. It’s deserted, possibly days before. It’s quick work to search and we come up empty-handed again.

  “Where next?” Pippa swipes a hand across her forehead. “It’s so hot here. It’s like the whole city is on fire.”

 

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