Once Burned, Twice Spy
Book 13 of the NEVER SAY SPY series
By Diane Henders
Published May 2018 by PEBKAC Publishing
Smashwords Edition v.1
ISBN 978-1-927460-52-8
The town of Silverside and all secret technologies are products of my imagination. If I’m abducted by grim-faced men wearing dark glasses, or if I die in an unexplained fiery car crash, you’ll know I accidentally came a little too close to the truth.
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are products of my imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
Please respect my hard work by complying with copyright laws. This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. You may not resell this e-book under any circumstances.
Thank you for reading!
Copyright © 2018 Diane Henders
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or in any means—by electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise—without prior written permission.
Books in the NEVER SAY SPY series:
Book 1: Never Say Spy
Book 2: The Spy Is Cast
Book 3: Reach For The Spy
Book 4: Tell Me No Spies
Book 5: How Spy I Am
Book 6: A Spy For A Spy
Book 7: Spy, Spy Away
Book 8: Spy Now, Pay Later
Book 9: Spy High
Book 10: Spy Away Home
Book 11: The Spies That Bind
Book 12: Kiss And Say Good Spy
Book 13: Once Burned, Twice Spy
More books coming! For a current list, please visit www.dianehenders.com/books
Remember to join the New Book Notification list!
Humour by Diane Henders
Probably Inappropriate
Definitely Inappropriate
Totally Inappropriate
Completely Inappropriate
Unabashedly Inappropriate
Ridiculously Inappropriate
For Phill
Thank you for being my technical advisor and the most tolerant husband ever. Much love!
To my beta readers/editors, especially Carol H., Judy B., and Phill B., with gratitude: Many thanks for all your time and effort in catching my spelling and grammar errors, telling me when I screwed up the plot or the characters’ motivations, and generally keeping me honest.
To Cassie at Crowe Photography: Thank you for coming all the way up here from Victoria! Your flexibility and expertise made the photo shoot easy, even for a camera-hater like me.
To everyone else, respectfully:
Canadian English is an unholy hybrid of British and American English, so I apologize if spellings in this book look odd to you. But if you find typos, please send an email to [email protected]. Mistakes drive me nuts, and I’m sorry if any slipped through. Please let me know what the error is, and on which page (or at which position in e-versions). I’ll make sure it gets fixed as soon as possible. Thanks!
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 1
My heart was already thumping too fast when I sidestepped into the dark alley with my Glock at the ready.
My head wasn’t in the game. Good way to get myself killed. Focus, dammit…
A clank from behind a garbage dumpster was my only warning before a shadowy figure lunged out.
Man with an assault rifle.
A blaze of adrenaline made me pull my shot just a fraction, but my bullet still hit his chest. He dropped.
Pulse jackhammering, I crept forward to press my back against the wall of the building. What was around that corner? If I poked my head out, would somebody shoot it off?
I eased down into a crouch.
Slow breath.
In.
Out for the count of three.
A quick peek…
A vicious crack made me jerk backward as a bullet struck the building where my head would have been if I’d been standing.
I scuttled back the way I’d come, past the blank gaze of the dead man beside the dumpster.
Dammit, why had I gotten myself into this?
A flash of movement to my left.
I pivoted, my pistol jerking up and my trigger finger already tightening.
“Shit!” The word left me in a breathless squeak as I snatched my finger out of the trigger guard. A young girl stared at me wide-eyed from only a few yards away, her face a pale oval in the murk.
Hands shaking, I was turning away when I glimpsed her reaching upward.
Toward the trigger rigged to her explosive vest…
My bullet caught her between the eyes, slapping her to the pavement an instant before she would have blown us both to oblivion.
Horror gripped my throat, but I had no time to indulge it. A bearded turban-clad man charged out of the darkness yelling, his face contorted as he brandished a long black object.
My sights snapped to his chest.
An instant later I sucked in a hard breath and swung my weapon aside to let the innocent commuter race past me, still waving his black umbrella and shouting at a departing bus.
Another bullet ricocheted nearby with a malevolent whine. I slammed my back against the nearest building, my blood pressure ratcheting up to near-stroke levels.
Enough.
“Let’s end this!” I yelled, my voice raw with tension.
“Already?” The response was taunting, and my temper ignited like a hissing fuse.
I managed not to let it explode into bellowed obscenities. “Yeah,” I snapped. “I’m done.”
The lights came on and I holstered my Glock before the range director could see how much my hands were trembling. Sliding my acoustic earmuffs down around my neck, I pulled out my earplugs and pocketed them as I made for the door of the simulator.
Braced for insults, I stepped out.
The dour-faced man eyed me with a sardonic twist to his mouth. “Don’t tell me the great Aydan Kelly lost her nerve.”
I gave him a level look. “No, I just remembered I’ve got a meeting at one and I need to get ready.”
As if I could forget Stemp’s damn meeting. That’s why I couldn’t focus in the first place.
Disbelief dripped from the
range director’s tone. “Yeah, sure. A meeting. That’s why you chickened out after two minutes.” His lips curled in a smile that was probably supposed to look like friendly teasing but didn’t quite make it past a sneer. “You almost shot that non-combatant, too. Better be careful. Hate to see you lose your title as the oldest female agent to pass requalification.”
Usually I could let his bullshit roll off my back, but today…
My teeth came together with an audible click as I battled the urge to smash my elbow into his grin. Or at least remind him that my forty-eight-year-old muscle and fitness could kick his paunchy fiftyish ass any day…
I did neither.
“Have I ever shot a non-combatant?” I growled.
His unpleasant smile widened. “You mean, besides the three you killed last year?”
“That was the first time I’d ever been in the simulator,” I grated. “I haven’t killed a single non-combatant since. And I’ve had a one hundred percent kill rate for hostiles; and a zero percent kill rate for myself. And I do this at least twice a month, usually more. Who else has that kind of record?”
“John Kane.” His grin was cocky now that I’d risen to his bait.
“He’s not an agent anymore,” I snapped.
The range director’s smile slipped a bit, but he rallied immediately. “Greg Holt.”
To hell with this pissing contest.
I eased my jaw muscles and gave him my nicest smile. “Being compared to top agents like Kane and Holt is a huge compliment. Thanks, that makes my day!”
I used his moment of stunned silence to flee.
At the top of the stairs I took a slow breath to prepare for imminent claustrophobia, then activated the retinal scan to leave the secured area. When the heavy door of the exit chamber closed behind me with a subdued thump, I stepped hurriedly forward to trigger the next scan. Then I closed my eyes and counted down the long thirty seconds before the next door opened to freedom.
There was plenty of air in the chamber. I wouldn’t suffocate.
Much.
Only a few more seconds. Breathe…
When the chamber released me at last I scurried out into the lobby of Sirius Dynamics, mentally congratulating myself on making it through the chamber without hyperventilating. Take that, claustrophobia.
Still, though, maybe I’d just step outside for a few minutes. To check messages on my cell phone.
Right.
I tossed my security fob to the guard in his bulletproof glass wicket and made a beeline for the door.
When I stepped outside, a stinging faceful of wind-driven snow scoured away my claustrophobia in an instant. I spat an expletive and huddled into the dubious shelter of the doorway to take out my cell phone, my fingers already chilling in the bitter cold.
The display showed three new messages from my best friend, and I groaned. Bridezilla was on the rampage again. But at least listening to Nichele’s wedding chatter would keep me from thinking about my upcoming meeting.
What if I was getting assigned to a new mission?
“I spent the past month preparing, dammit,” I growled into the blustering wind. “I’m ready!”
And I had been certain of that, until I got the meeting request and all my doubts and fears came rushing back…
Don’t think about it.
I touched the Play icon.
“Hey, girl!” Nichele’s perky voice lilted out of the speaker. “This is your daily nag! Have you picked out your dress yet? I’m buying a tie for Dave’s best man, and I want it to match your dress. Oh, and you won’t believe what I caught the caterer planning! And the florist; oh-em-gee, Aydan, it’s like the guy’s got some kind of mental block! Wait ’til you hear…” I tuned out the rest of her wedding woes until she concluded, “…call me ASAP, ’kay?”
The other two messages contained more cheerful nagging about the damn dress. Shivering, I punched the speed dial for her number and wrapped my free arm around myself in an attempt to conserve some body heat.
Nichele picked up with a triumphant crow on the second ring. “Aydan! Finally! I thought you’d fallen off the face of the earth, girl! Or gotten lost in this blizzard. The news says there have been over two hundred accidents in Calgary since six this morning. Is it snowing up there in Silverside, too?”
“Snowing to b-beat shit,” I agreed, my teeth beginning to chatter. “And m-minus twenty and windy as all hell. I’m f-freezing my ass off.”
As I spoke the words Clyde Webb bounded up the steps, his skinny six-foot-two camouflaged by a puffy hooded parka and a striped scarf that muffled him nose to chin. I mouthed ‘Hi Spider’ and gave him as cheery a wave as I could muster with a half-frozen hand.
He shot a watery-eyed frown at my coatless condition, then shucked off his jacket and dropped it over my shoulders despite my headshake. Countering my mute protest, he gave me a firm nod and a pat on the arm before whisking through the doors of Sirius.
I huddled gratefully into his warm parka and returned my attention to Nichele.
“…so Mitch, the best man…” she was saying. “…would you believe, the only suit and tie he had was the one he wore to his high school graduation thirty years ago? Truckers! So I already bought him a suit but we have to get your dress soon, girl, so I can buy him a matching tie! You remember the wedding’s in three days, right? You know most brides have all this stuff settled months before their weddings, right?”
I drew a deep breath. “Yeah, I know, Nichele. I’m sorry, I’ve been totally slammed at work lately.”
“Well, why don’t you just wear the dress I picked out for you a couple of summers ago?” she persisted. “It looks awesome on you, and that gorgeous green will totally work with my Christmas theme.”
“Um… that dress died in a tragic hairspray accident,” I mumbled. Before she could demand details, I added hurriedly, “I promise if the roads aren’t closed tonight, I’ll come down and we can go shopping.”
I winced as the words left my mouth. A two-hour drive in the winter darkness was no picnic at the best of times, and in a howling blizzard it was damn near suicidal. And I’d still have to drive back in the middle of the night to be at work the next morning.
Unless my meeting catapulted me into even more immediate mortal danger…
I shivered despite the warmth of Spider’s parka and sneaked a glance at my wristwatch. Fifteen minutes to go.
“Thanks, Aydan! I knew I could count on you! Oh, hang on…” Nichele’s voice faded and the phone relayed a low-pitched mumble. A moment later she was back on the line. “Dave says to stay off the road,” she reported. “You know how he is about anybody who’s not a professional driver.” Another mumble in the background prompted her to add, “He says he’ll bobtail up in his highway tractor and get you as soon as you’re done work, and then he’ll take you home to Silverside when we’re done shopping. Just tell him what time you want him there.”
My heart warmed. How lucky I was to have Dave perpetually poised to rescue me with his big truck, even if it meant driving for hours through a blizzard in pitch darkness just for the sake of a stupid dress.
I didn’t voice my opinion about the dress.
“Tell him thanks,” I said instead. “But I don’t know yet what my afternoon’s going to be like. I’ve got a meeting in a few minutes, and I’ll know more after that. I’ll call you as soon as I can…” I crossed my fingers, hoping social calls would still be on my priority list later. “…and you can leave your Bridezilla updates on my voicemail in the meantime.”
“Smartass! I’m only forgiving you because we’ve been best friends since we were five.”
“And because you know you actually are Bridezilla,” I teased.
“Bite me.” I could hear the smile in her voice. “But hey, while I’m being Bridezilla anyway, who are you bringing as your date?” In a suggestive sing-song she added, “I’ve saved a spot for Hot John. A nice big spot for his nice big-”
“Don’t go there!” I interrupted
. “I, um… I’ll probably…”
There was no way I’d ask Kane. That would give him entirely the wrong idea. And Hellhound? My lips curved into an evil grin at the thought of Arnie’s discomfort if anyone even uttered the word ‘wedding’. It would be fun to tease him about it, but I wasn’t mean enough to actually invite him.
“…I’ll be on my own,” I finished firmly.
“Oh, Aydan! Go on, just ask Hot John. I’ll save a spot for him just in case.”
Knowing the futility of arguing, I said, “Okay. I have to go now. Talk to you later.”
“See you soon, girl. Stay warm! Ciao!”
I ducked back into Sirius with a breath of relief.
Spider was standing beside the security wicket, wiping moisture from his cheeks.
“What’s wrong, Spider?” I eyed him with concern.
“Nothing; I was just walking into that wind and the snow stung my eyes.” He smiled as I handed him back his parka and added, “What were you doing out there in only your jeans and sweatshirt? You looked half-frozen.”
“I was. Thanks for your jacket. You’re such a good friend!” I gave him a smile and stepped up to the security wicket to sign in again. “I’d been down in the dungeon,” I added over my shoulder. “I just needed a breath of fresh air.”
“Oh.” He nodded sympathetic comprehension as I joined him again, fob in hand. “Well, it doesn’t get any fresher than that.”
“No kidding. My face feels like it’s been sandblasted. Who needs Botox and skin peels? All I have to do is stand in that blizzard for a few minutes and my wrinkles will be long gone.”
“You don’t have wrinkles,” he protested. Pink rose in his cheeks as the obvious lie hung in the air between us. “Well, maybe a few little ones…” he amended, reddening. “…but I still can’t believe you’re the same age as my mom.”
Jeez, was everybody conspiring to remind me of my age today?
Some of that thought must have shown on my face. Spider backpedalled, blushing harder. “Anyway, you always look great, and you’re amazing at your job, and that’s what really matters!”
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