Stemp shrugged. “I didn’t expect a bloodbath. I thought you’d break. Rawling was only here to pick up the pieces afterward.”
“You fucking dickhead.” My words came out exhausted and flat, and I took another shaky sip of hot chocolate, hoping to revive some righteous anger.
He eyed me expressionlessly. “My job isn’t to be popular. My job is to make sure all my staff can perform at peak efficiency. Otherwise, good people die.”
He was right, and it only made me hate him more.
“Well, good job, then,” I spat.
“Thank you. When do you plan to put the tracer on Doytchevsky?”
Shit, I’d forgotten about that.
“When I’m damn well good and ready.”
He rose, apparently unperturbed. “You need to attempt another contact with Sherman. The team is assembled in your office. I’ll stand in for Kane. Let’s go.”
I stood, refusing to clutch at the chair for support. “I have to go to the bathroom. I’ll meet you up there.” I drained the cup and crushed it in my fist, wishing it was his skull.
He turned and left without another word, and I collected my gun, jacket, and waist pouch before wobbling down the corridor to the ladies’ room.
The trip through the time-delay chamber was a small slice of hell. I braced my forehead against the door, eyes closed, focusing every ounce of my being on taking slow, steady breaths. When the door finally released, I held myself under rigid control and strode over to the security wicket.
“Just going outside for a second. Be right back.” I dropped my security fob in the tray and made a beeline for the exit.
Outside, I trembled on the sidewalk, clamping down on the frantic urge to run. The swirling snow stung my face while the bitter wind whipped my hair around my head in wild gusts. I closed my eyes and sucked in huge lungfuls of freedom.
After a few minutes I retreated to the warmth of the lobby, wiping moisture off my cheeks that might have been tears or snow.
“Rotten day,” the security guard commented as I collected my badge again.
“No kidding,” I agreed with profound sincerity. I didn’t bother to point out that I wasn’t referring to the weather.
Chapter 23
Standing in the doorway to my office, I took stock of its occupants and concealed my feelings with a non-committal, “Hi everybody.”
Spider’s face lit up. “Hi, Aydan, how was your holiday? Lola said you guys had a blast.”
“Yeah.” I accompanied the word with what I hoped was a cheerful expression. That was a little tricky when I was wishing slow, painful death on two of the four people in the room.
Stemp and Doytchevsky were apparently trying to outdo each other for the Most Deadpan award, but Jack rose with her usual warm smile. “Welcome back. I thought you were away until Wednesday.”
“So did I,” I muttered. “Change in plans,” I added, trying to look as though that was a good thing. Sinking onto the sofa, I eyed Stemp. “What do you want me to do?”
“The same as last time. I’ll come into the network with you and act as your anchor.”
I hid my disgust the best I could.
“When do you expect John back?” Jack inquired, fixing Stemp with a concerned gaze. “I hope his personal leave is nothing serious. Was there an illness in his family?”
Doytchevsky’s eyes glittered with triumph while Stemp replied, “I’m not at liberty to discuss the circumstances, but Kane has considerable leave time accumulated. If he chooses to use it, he could be away for several months.”
“Oh.” Jack’s radiance dimmed.
“I’ll stand in this week, but if it looks as though it will turn into a long-term absence, I’ll assign another agent.” Stemp turned a bland face toward me. “Shall we begin?”
I drew a deep breath and let it out slowly, stepping mentally into the white void and concentrating hard on concealing my animosity.
I wasn’t quite as successful as I’d hoped. I banished the spiky armour that encased me and waved the snarling, fire-breathing dragon into oblivion. Damn virtual reality anyway.
“What was that?” Spider’s voice filtered through the interface in a mixture of delight and astonishment.
“Sorry. Guess I’m tired. I was watching a medieval thing the other night,” I lied, avoiding the appraising gaze of Stemp’s avatar.
“That dragon was so cool!” Spider enthused. “Do you mind if I save that into a separate sim file?”
“It’s all yours.” I plodded resolutely toward the virtual file repository.
Inside, I materialized a couple of chairs and sank into one of them. Get this over with. I grasped Stemp’s outstretched hand and whisked into data stream before I could recoil at his touch.
Just outside the firewalls of Sirius Dynamics, I floated aimlessly in the busy currents of the internet. This was stupid. What was I supposed to do, just hang around in the hope that Terry Sherman happened to be riding Tammy’s mind around the internet at this exact moment looking for me?
But I didn’t have a clue where they might be, and stretching off into nothingness was even more of a waste of time than hanging around close to home. He knew where to find me. If he wanted to…
Even though I’d been half-expecting it, the deluge of data drove a shock of fear through me. Clinging grimly to Stemp’s distant grip, I captured Tammy’s turbulent presence and began to sort through it again.
It took forever. My exhausted consciousness strained to hold her, sifting memories only to lose them and start over.
Read. Sort. File.
Over and over.
When I finally packed the last bit of data away and opened my net, the implosion shattered me. I tried to gather myself into a data stream to pursue the retreating packets, but my weakened consciousness bobbed uselessly, millions of barely-connected shards too scattered to coalesce.
With the last of my will, I seeped back toward Stemp’s distant grip.
“Kelly!” Stemp’s voice echoed as if from the end of a long tunnel. “Agent Kelly! Aydan!”
I could feel the pull now, as if he was drawing me back bit by bit.
Let him pull.
I floated, barely conscious of his distant shouts.
“Aydan!” The calls were closer now, Stemp’s and Spider’s voices mingling.
I concentrated with all my might, and Stemp swam into focus. “Just hold on. I’m going to get you out now,” he said.
I couldn’t perceive my avatar’s appearance, but it couldn’t have been good. Stemp’s hands trembled finely when he lifted me, belying his calm voice. “Stay with me. We’re going through the portal now.”
Moments later, pain crashed through me and I jerked into a ball, hugging my head and sobbing curses. When gentle hands began to massage my temples, I pressed my face into the sofa cushions to hide my tears.
“Aydan?” Spider’s tremulous voice penetrated my misery.
I groaned and dragged myself more-or-less upright, swiping my sleeve across my face. “Yeah.”
“Did you get the IP?” Doytchevsky’s nasal voice drilled through my aching brain.
“No.” I opened my eyes and singled Stemp’s expressionless features out of the ring of faces. “I couldn’t trace it back. It was all I could do to sort through all our memories and hold mine back.”
He frowned. “Are you certain you didn’t give anything away?”
“Positive.”
“Good enough.” He gave me a look that might have been compassion. “We’ll try again tomorrow. Go home and get some rest.”
I sighed. “There’s a problem.”
“What?”
“We missed them.” I slouched forward and closed my eyes, rubbing at the persistent pain in my temples. “I thought… Tammy thought they were going to travel by ground to stay hidden. But instead Sherman booked a flight under fake names. They flew in on Saturday, drove up here to Silverside on Sunday, discovered that their headquarters was flattened, and ran.”
&nbs
p; A pregnant silence ensued, and I didn’t open my eyes.
When Stemp spoke again, his even voice betrayed no emotion. “Do you have any idea where they were going?”
“No. And I don’t even know what their car looks like…”
“Because Tammy is blind,” Stemp finished.
“Yeah. I know they were travelling as George and Janet White, but that’s all. And they probably won’t use those names again anyway.”
“Do you know what car rental agency they used?”
I pried my eyes open at last to face Stemp’s question. “No.”
“We’ll start there nevertheless.” Stemp turned to Spider. “Webb, hack into the rental car agencies at the Calgary airport. Look for a rental for George or Janet White. If they rented a car with an onboard GPS, we might be able to locate them with that. If you can’t find either name…”
“I’ll check all the arrival times from Boston on Saturday and cross-check with the names of people who rented cars at those times,” Spider finished. “Aydan, do you know what time they arrived in Calgary?”
I squeezed my eyes shut and clutched my throbbing head while I laboured through twice as many memories as any brain should hold.
“Aydan!” Jack’s sudden voice made my eyes pop open. “Your nose is bleeding. Are you all right?”
I swiped at the tickle under my nose and stared stupidly at the red smear on my hand for a moment before accepting the tissue from her outstretched hand.
“Yeah…” I struggled to marshal my thoughts back into some semblance of concentration, but it was no use. “Sorry, Spider, either Tammy didn’t know or I can’t dig out the memory. My brain is too full.” I dabbed at my nose. “They know the other three Knights were killed, though. They searched out the news items on the barn explosion. But they don’t know Sam’s in custody, and Sherman still wants to contact him.”
“Good,” Stemp said. “That’s enough for today. You need to go to the hospital now.”
“No, I’m f-”
“That wasn’t a suggestion,” he interrupted. “Dr. Travers, please hook Kelly up to your diagnostic equipment and compare her current brainwave pattern to your baseline data. I’ll call the hospital and they will be expecting you as soon as you finish here.” He rose. “Will it be necessary for me to escort you?”
I slumped back on the sofa. “No. I’ll go.”
A couple of hours later, I escaped when the doctors admitted they couldn’t find anything wrong with me other than slightly elevated blood pressure and high levels of stress hormones.
I muttered ‘No shit, really?’ under my breath and trudged through the gathering dusk to my truck. The snow had stopped, but the bitter wind sliced through every tiny aperture in my clothing.
Shivering, I fumbled my key out of my waist pouch and unlocked the door by feel in the half-light. Focused on getting out of the miserable wind as quickly as possible, I realized my mistake a fraction of a second after the door closed behind me.
“Both hands on the wheel.” Doytchevsky unfolded himself from the foot well of the passenger side and the muzzle of his gun stared me down.
After a split-second of adrenaline-drenched indecision, I obeyed. I was pretty sure he wouldn’t shoot me with an actual bullet, but the trank gun in his hand meant business. One wrong move, and I’d wake up a lot unhappier than I was at this moment. Which was extremely unhappy indeed.
He nodded approval. “Smart.”
“What the hell do you want?”
He shivered. “I hate this damn truck. I’ve spent far too much time freezing in it.”
“Well, nobody’s stopping you from leaving,” I snapped. “Don’t let the door hit you in the ass on your way out.”
He gave me a smile that chilled me in ways the cold vinyl upholstery couldn’t match. “Oh, I’m not staying. I just want to have a little chat. Did you and Stemp enjoy my photography?”
I hid my fear and anger in a shrug. “I told you I don’t give a shit. That’s Kane’s problem.”
He shot me a look of pure satisfaction. “Yes, it is, isn’t it? Thank you for giving me the idea. I’ve been searching for a creative way to make him suffer.”
Wait a minute. Make him suffer?
Shit, maybe Arnie was right. It wasn’t all about me.
I went fishing. “What’s your problem with him? I’m the one he’s harassing.”
I held my breath, hoping he’d bite.
He did. His face twisted with hatred. “You mean besides the fact that he murdered Robert? My best friend?”
Oh. Right.
Maybe it was time to build a little rapport.
“Your best friend. My husband,” I said flatly.
“Yes.” He had the grace to look slightly abashed. “I suppose it was naive of me to think I could use Kane as leverage against you. Nevertheless.” He straightened, the trank gun unwavering in his grip. “I’m finished playing games. Where’s Sherman?”
I hissed out a short breath between my teeth. “I told you, I don’t fucking know.”
“That’s too bad. Tell me, are you fond of your little purple-haired sex granny?”
My heart clenched into a fist-sized stone.
Oh, God. I’d been so busy worrying about Nichele, I’d forgotten Doytchevsky had seen Lola with me in Vegas. And she was a highly-visible target in this tiny fishbowl of a town.
“Yes.” My voice came out high and tight.
“So you wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to her.”
“No.” I tried to draw a long, slow breath, but my lungs felt as though they had been encased in steel. “Kasper, I swear I will do anything you want. I’ll tell you as soon as I get even a hint of where Sherman is. But I honestly… don’t… know.” I met his eyes, willing him to believe me. “I’m sorry. Please believe me. If I knew, I’d tell you. Please don’t hurt Lola.” I didn’t have to exaggerate the quiver in my voice.
He eyed me for a few moments. “Nice acting. Too bad I know you’re lying.”
“I’m not!” In the dim light, my knuckles glowed white on the steering wheel. “Kasper, please! Think about it. Why would I lie to you? I hate the Knights as much as you do. More. Look what they’ve done to my life. Why the hell would I protect Sherman?”
“So you can kill him yourself.”
“Kasper!” I thumped my forehead against the steering wheel, holding back tears of frantic frustration. “I blew up three of them. That’s all I need. You can have Sherman. I’ll tell you where he is as soon as I know, I swear it!”
On second thought, now was not the time for bravado. I let the tears leak out. “Kasper, please.” My voice was a hoarse whisper.
“Aw. Real tears. I’m touched.” He gave me a sardonic smile. “All right. See that you keep your end of the bargain. Or I’ll pay a visit to your little granny. Maybe I’ll try out some of her merchandise on her. I’ll be sure to take lots of pictures so you can share the experience.”
My stomach clenched, sending a wave of sickness up to half-strangle my voice. “I swear I’ll tell you as soon as I know.”
“You do that.” He unlatched the door and backed out, still holding me at gunpoint. “Oh, and if you mention this conversation to anyone, your little granny will pay in ways you won’t even want to imagine. Have a pleasant evening.”
For several minutes after he faded into the darkness, I sat with my hands glued to the steering wheel, swallowing quaking nausea. At last, I pried a shaking hand loose to turn the key, taking scant comfort when the engine roared to life.
Hunched trembling in the driver’s seat, I took long, slow breaths. When I could fake calm, I made a quick call to Hellhound to let him know I was on my way home, then sat staring at the frost on the windshield.
Just breathe.
At last I put the truck in gear, peering through the small but widening clear spot in the glass.
The drive on the dark, icy highway was made bearable by the knowledge that in only a few miles I’d be home. When my garage door rolled
down behind me, I slumped forward to rest my aching forehead on the steering wheel, slowly peeling my grip off the steering wheel finger by finger.
The urge to curl up in the warm stillness was almost overwhelming, but after a few minutes I pulled myself upright and crept out of the truck.
Home at last. Thank God.
I plodded out of the garage and clung to the handrail while my shaking legs hoisted me up my snow-covered steps. Long moments later, my cold, clumsy fingers finally managed to guide my key into the lock.
When I stepped through the front door, a horrible stench froze me to the floor.
Oh, no.
Please.
No.
As if of its own volition, my hand found the light switch.
My knees gave way and I thudded to the floor.
Chapter 24
The sound of my doorbell slowly penetrated my consciousness. It rang a couple of times, followed by a knock, and Tom’s voice called from outside.
“Aydan? Hello! Anybody home?”
It took a couple of tries to get my voice working. “Come in.”
The door swung open and Tom spared a fast glance around the kitchen before dropping to his knees beside me. “Aydan, are you hurt? What happened?”
“I’m not hurt.” My voice reverberated in the empty hole where my heart had been. “I just… I can’t…” It took all my strength to raise a hand and gesture at the devastation of my home. “I forgot about the break-in.”
His face hardened as he took in the gutted cabinets, the smashed dishes and putrefied food scattered across the floor. The open chest freezer filled the air with its strained humming, but the fridge had given up, its doors gaping sadly around a dark and lifeless interior.
Long tremors shook me and I looked away, my battered mind seeking solace in the summer-blue of Tom’s eyes.
He pulled me against his chest, blocking my view of the room. “It’s going to be okay, Aydan. Don’t worry, we’ll fix it.” He held me for a moment before drawing away to study my face. “Come on, let’s get you out of here. Can you stand?”
A Spy For a Spy Page 17
