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Once Burned, Twice Spy

Page 13

by Diane Henders


  “You figure he’s okay?” I eyed the commander’s retreating back.

  “Yeah. He’s done everythin’ by the book, an’ it ain’t easy with all a’ Five Eyes here. If it was just Canadians he’d have more control, but he’s gotta cut a fine line between keepin’ everybody safe an’ dealin’ with dickheads like Grandin an’ his fuckin’ diplomatic immunity.”

  “Right, I forgot about that, too.” I massaged my temples. “Dammit, what else am I forgetting? How much of my memory will I lose?”

  “Ya shouldn’t lose any of it, ’cept for the part where you were actually drugged.” Hellhound eyed me worriedly. “Ya better talk to the doc about it.”

  Reggie had been staring into space while we talked, and he returned to the conversation with a slap to my pillow that made me jump.

  “Fuck!” he snapped. “They faked it! Those fuckers! I need Murray and Melinda!” He launched to his feet and wobbled with a harsh hiss of breath as his injured leg took his weight. Then he righted himself and strode across the room to where Murray and Melinda were huddled together. A few moments later they were all pulling up chairs around my gurney.

  “Is this a council of war?” Ian’s tone was light as he approached our group, but there was an undertone of suspicion in his voice.

  Reggie shot him a scowl, but said nothing.

  “Nope,” I lied. “It’s just a social chat. Pull up a chair and join us.”

  “You’re not going to scream at me again, are you?” he inquired warily.

  “Um… no…” I frowned. “What do you mean, ‘again’?”

  “You don’t remember?”

  “No…”

  Shit, was he trying to give me some kind of secret message? If so, I hadn’t a clue what it was.

  Hellhound took in my expression and squeezed my hand. “Maybe ya don’t remember. Ya were hallucinatin’ then.”

  “I came to see how you were, and you screamed at me,” Ian confirmed. “You said something that sounded like ‘don’t tell’.” The warning in his gaze came through clearly.

  Shit. My chain of command knew about my part in Ian’s op, but if Nora began to suspect we’d known each other before last night…

  I ransacked my aching brain for a cover story.

  “Dunno why ya think she was sayin’ ‘don’t tell’,” Hellhound demurred. “I couldn’t figure out what the hell she was tryin’ to say. Mosta the time she was just screamin’.”

  I sent a mental ‘thank you’ his way and resisted the urge to give his hand a grateful squeeze just in case anybody was watching us closely.

  “Well…” Ian’s jocular tone held a faint edge. “No offense intended, old chap, but any woman in her right mind would scream if she opened her eyes and saw your face above her.”

  “Huh. Good point,” Hellhound agreed mildly, and my heart twisted for him.

  “I was screaming because I hallucinated that Arnie had been decapitated,” I snapped at Ian, my mouth running off while my mind scrambled for some plausible justification for why I might have said ‘don’t tell’. “And look who’s talking about scaring women, jerk!”

  Ian’s perfectly-groomed eyebrows rose over his striking green eyes while I struggled to find some part of his appearance to insult. There was nothing, of course. He was flat-out gorgeous.

  “Are you sure I wasn’t screaming ‘dental’?” I snarled. “’Cause all your bright-white capped teeth are enough to scare anybody.” It was a pathetic insult, especially since his mouth was currently concealed by his mask; but it was all I had.

  Ian seized the opportunity. His chin rose and his brows drew together. “They’re natural,” he said, his accent sounding impossibly haughty. “But if that’s all the thanks I get for being concerned about you, then fine.” He strode away without a backward glance.

  “Told you he was a prick,” Reggie growled.

  “No kidding,” I agreed, hiding my relief. If anyone questioned Ian or me now, we had our story straight.

  But what else had I blabbed while I was under the influence?

  I shelved that uncomfortable question for future worrying when Reggie motioned the others closer.

  As they leaned together over my bed, Reggie muttered, “Murray and Melinda, check my logic on this. They’ve got to have faked that demo. No gas could break molecular bonds that quickly and completely. And even if there was a gas that could do it, the vial wasn’t a pressure vessel so it was too small relative to the air volume in the containment unit. It couldn’t have held enough for a useful concentration. What do you think?”

  After a moment of silence, Melinda said slowly, “I don’t know. Mitchell didn’t claim the vial contained gas; he said it contained bacteria that would excrete a gas, or possibly a liquid; he didn’t specify. A vial that size could contain trillions upon trillions of bacteria, and they could move very quickly over the surface of that rebar.” She hesitated. “But my gut feeling is the same as yours, though I’d need to see their research before I could form an opinion.”

  “I bet they were faking it,” I agreed. “Did you see how nervous Dr. Pino was?”

  Reggie shrugged. “He’s always nervous. The guy’s a twitchy sweaty little chipmunk.”

  Murray gave him a disapproving look. “He has hyperhidrosis, and it’s aggravated by social anxiety.” After a glance at my blank face, he elaborated, “Hyperhidrosis is a medical condition characterized by excessive sweating.”

  “The poor guy,” I said. “That has to suck. He was drenched by the end of the presentation.”

  “Yeah,” Reggie agreed with malicious satisfaction. “It looked like he’d pissed himself.”

  “Don’t be such a dick, Reggie,” I said absently.

  “Pino’s a dick, so why shouldn’t I be?” he replied. “Pino the penis.”

  “Reggie!” I smacked him on the arm.

  “Seriously, the guy’s a douchebag,” Reggie insisted. “Ten years ago he got caught stealing work from undergraduates and publishing their research under his own name. I can’t believe he ever got a security clearance.” He snorted. “Maybe he stole that, too.”

  Murray frowned. “He did seem more anxious than usual. And I’m suspicious of their presentation, too; but molecular bonding isn’t my area of expertise.” He glanced over his shoulder. “We should ask Katie. She’s the best-”

  “No!”

  Reggie’s loud objection made us all stare.

  Melinda’s eyes narrowed. “Yes, Reggie. Not only is she brilliant, but you also owe her an apology. A public one.” With a searing look at Reggie, she called across the room. “Katie, could you come over here, please? Reggie has something he needs to say to you.”

  I cringed, wishing I could pull the sheet over my head and block out the upcoming scene. Reggie would tear poor Katie apart.

  Katie planted her hands on her hips, her eyes flashing. “Is that so? What do you want to say, Reggie?” Her clear voice lilted above the other conversations in the room, and everyone fell silent.

  Thirty-some pairs of eyes focused on Reggie.

  He gave Melinda a look that was clearly intended to make her combust and fall in ashes at his feet; but Melinda remained impervious, her eyes glinting with the gleeful evil only the best of friends can channel.

  “Come on, Reggie,” she prompted in dulcet tones. “Speak up.”

  “You’re dead meat,” Reggie grated under his breath. “I’m going to…”

  “Come on, then, you mongrel,” Katie taunted. “I’m waiting.”

  I flinched. Oh, Katie. You don’t realize that Reggie’s capable of stripping the skin from your body with mere words, leaving all your tender nerves exposed…

  Reggie drew himself up, exuding black rage. “Katie,” he said in a tone that made me shiver. He raised his voice so everyone in the room could hear. “I owe you an apology for what I said earlier. I was being an asshole.”

  Murray nudged Melinda and muttered, “Who is that guy, and why is he wearing Reggie’s face?” Melinda snuffl
ed, obviously smothering giggles behind her mask.

  Oblivious to their commentary, Katie stared back at Reggie. “Bloody oath you were,” she agreed, her small form straight and unyielding.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, his posture just as stiff as hers, but his tone sincere.

  I fought back a smile. Right there: That’s why we were friends. Reggie might be an abrasive cantankerous son of a bitch, but he was also brave as hell, fair-minded, and brutally honest.

  Katie relented immediately, her eyes softening. “Aw, no worries, love.”

  “Thank you,” Reggie said formally. “Would you join us, please? We need your expertise.”

  She stiffened. “Oh, that’s it, is it? You only apologized because you want my mind.”

  Reggie’s eye widened. A slow flush climbed his neck, emphasizing the division where his own reddening skin ended and his prosthetic mask began.

  The room was so silent I could hear my own pulse thumping in my ears. Thirty gazes bounced back and forth between Reggie’s discomfiture and Katie’s indignation.

  At last Reggie spoke.

  “No,” he said clearly. “I want you for much more than your mind. I want to run my hands all over your hot little body. I want to go down on you until you come so hard you see stars. And I want to make love to you until the only name you remember is mine.”

  Chapter 17

  The room had been quiet before but now it absolutely soundless, everyone standing paralyzed.

  I gaped up at Reggie. Oh, God. There was that brutal honesty again; with the worst possible timing.

  Melinda choked.

  Murray mumbled, “Jeez, Reggie, sexual harassment much?”

  An explosive snort of laughter came from Hellhound’s direction.

  Katie stood frozen in place, eyes wide and cheeks crimson.

  “Oh…” she said faintly. “I… I…” She swallowed. “I was… hoping… you might like my sense of humour.”

  Reggie turned as red as Katie. “I, um… I do,” he croaked, looking utterly wretched. Then he squared his shoulders again, his face hardening. “So if you’re done with the joke, get your fucking sense of humour over here,” he snapped.

  A dangerous pause made me squeeze my eyes shut and clench the sheet in my fist.

  Then Katie’s laughter pealed out, shattering the silence. “Aw, Reggie, you’re funny when you get all blokey.”

  I opened my eyes again with a breath of relief as she strolled over.

  “What’s up, then?” she inquired.

  She slid into the chair that Reggie pulled out for her, but despite her easy movements, she didn’t make eye contact with him. When his sleeve brushed her shoulder she flinched infinitesimally, and Reggie looked as though he’d taken a punch to the stomach.

  “We need your professional opinion,” Murray said as though their awkward exchange had never occurred. He lowered his voice and everyone leaned in. “Katie, Reggie thinks that the bacteria demo might have been faked. What do you think?”

  “Ha.” She relaxed and glanced over at Reggie, her smiling eyes crinkling above her mask. “Glad I’m not the only one.”

  He relaxed, too. “So, can you think of any bacterial excretions that might affect metal like that?”

  “No. I just can’t see metallic bonding being dismantled that quickly and completely. Especially when the s and p electrons are delocalized the way they are in alloyed metals…” She shrugged. “Non-directional bonds just don’t break like that no matter what chemical you apply to them, and I can’t imagine how any substance could alter an electron’s charge. You can reduce an alloy to its elements in multiple steps using chemicals combined with physical processing, but to go from solid metal to powder within seconds? It seems really unlikely.”

  As Reggie sat back with a nod, she added, “But I’d have to evaluate their research before I’d accuse them. Just because I can’t imagine how it would work, it doesn’t mean it’s impossible. I wouldn’t have believed your ultrasound weapon would work, either, if I hadn’t just seen it.” Her eyes crinkled mischievously again. “Maybe you were faking it, too.”

  “Smartass,” Reggie growled.

  She winked at him, but sobered fast. “But why would they fake their presentation? It’s a right risky move, and their reputations are on the line.” She hesitated, then added, “Well, Mitchell’s is. Pino doesn’t have much of a rep to lose.”

  “I don’t know why.” Reggie frowned at me. “But I’m willing to bet it’s connected to the attack on Aydan.”

  A stir at the doorway made us all glance over. A slim figure garbed in an isolation suit and breathing mask slipped through the door and the commander intercepted it. After a brief exchange, they both strode over to my gurney.

  As the figure approached, my heart lifted at the sight of blue eyes bracketed by the beginnings of crows-feet.

  “Dr. Roth!” I gave her a smile. “Am I ever glad to see you!”

  She smiled back. “We have to stop meeting like this.” Switching to professional mode, she checked the monitor and IV, then pulled up a chair. “I need to ask Aydan some questions,” she told the group. “This will only take a few minutes.”

  The commander stepped closer and toggled a button on his headset. A small red light glowed, and I guessed that it was a camera. My conversation with Dr. Roth would be recorded.

  I swallowed hard.

  Everyone except Hellhound got up and wandered away, but he remained seated beside me. Dr. Roth eyed our clasped hands with the hint of a smile hovering at the corner of her mouth.

  “So, Aydan,” she said. “Tell me everything you remember.”

  “I was standing there watching Dr. Mitchell’s and Dr. Pino’s presentation,” I began. “They had, um…”

  Classified technology.

  “…some really scary stuff,” I generalized, and went on, “I was… um…”

  Dammit, I didn’t want to admit I had been half-paralyzed by claustrophobia. As far as the Department’s psych team knew, I was over that.

  “I was really riveted,” I said lamely. “Which was stupid of me, because I wasn’t paying enough attention to everybody else. Then I got jabbed in the arm and at the same time a smoke bomb flew out. I’m pretty sure Grandin threw it, because he was standing right beside me and it came from our direction. After that…”

  I frowned. My mind felt distant and blurry, flickering like a bad video.

  “Um… I had my duffel bag. I got filter masks on everybody…”

  Smoke. Confusion.

  “I, um… I guess… we headed for the door…?” I turned to Arnie, who nodded encouragingly. “But we couldn’t get out.”

  I was sure about that part, because if I’d gotten out that door I’d damn well still be running.

  “And then… Mitchell yelled out that his bacteria were gone…” I frowned and thumped my forehead. “Come on, brain, get with the program.”

  It was no use. I let out a breath of frustration. “I don’t remember much after that. Just flashes of stuff. Reggie being a dick. People… dancing…?” I shook my head. “I was probably hallucinating.”

  Hellhound chuckled. “So that’s what ya were sayin’. ‘Ya put your right foot in, ya put your right foot out, ya do the hokey-pokey’. Ya were laughin’ your ass off, an’ I couldn’t figure out what ya were tryin’ to say.”

  I gave him a smile, but I couldn’t remember that part. Why the hell would I be laughing and singing after I’d been shot and poisoned?

  I turned back to Dr. Roth. “You should ask Arnie what happened. He’s got a photographic memory.”

  “I’m aware of his powers of recall. I’ve also watched the surveillance footage from all the cameras.” Her blue gaze probed me. “I want to know what you remember.”

  “Nothing after that.” I knotted my fists in my hair and tugged. “I… I feel as though I did remember more earlier… when I first woke up…”

  Shiny slippery memories, flickering just out of my grasp. I clenched my fists
tighter but the thoughts were gone.

  “…but now I don’t even remember whether I remembered,” I finished with frustration. “It’s like… like a dream fading away after you wake up. I’m sorry, that’s all I’ve got.”

  Arnie frowned. “Do ya remember hallucinatin’ that I got my head cut off?”

  I recoiled. “No! That would be horrible!”

  His frown deepened as he turned to Dr. Roth. “She remembered that earlier. She’s losin’ her memory.”

  “That would be the effects of the ketamine,” the doctor said reassuringly. She returned her attention to me. “Just relax, and let’s see if we can dredge up any other memory fragments before they fade. Tell me what you remember about the dart.”

  “I got jabbed in the shoulder.” Fear bubbled up again. “Can you do blood tests to find out whether I got injected with… some kind of disease or something? How long does it take to find out?”

  “Just tell us what you remember about the dart,” the commander snapped. He sounded pissed off. What the hell did I ever do to him?

  “I don’t know anything about the damn dart,” I retorted. “Did you ever find Grandin’s pen? Or any kind of blowgun? Or the dart itself? Did you check the floor? Or maybe the person who shot me picked it up off the floor and threw it away. Did you check the garbage containers?”

  Dr. Roth and the commander exchanged an unreadable glance.

  What the hell?

  Anxious confusion seized me. Had I forgotten something again?

  “Never mind the dart for now,” Dr. Roth said. “What else can you remember? Did you…” Her gaze flicked warily toward the commander before returning to me. “…did you trip and fall at any point? Or maybe crawl on the floor to stay below the smoke?”

  “No.” I frowned. What the hell was she getting at? “At least, not that I remember…”

  “She fell,” Hellhound said firmly. “After he…” He jerked his chin at the commander. “…questioned her. He wouldn’t let her put her arms down an’ she passed out. I got to her before she hit her head on the floor, though.”

 

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