“Oh, hell, no,” I lied with a light laugh that sounded almost convincing. “Spider’s the hacker. I’m just-”
“A bookkeeper,” Hellhound finished. “Uh-huh.”
“Well, no,” I conceded. “You know that. But I have my ways.”
“That why you’re goin’ active again?” Hellhound asked. “So ya can get us information?”
“If that’s the reason, don’t do it,” Kane added. “We’ll find another way.”
“Um…” I eyed the two frowning faces across from me. They didn’t need any more worries right now. “No, I just, um… I had to anyway. So it’s okay.”
“It’s okay until you ship out on your next mission,” Kane said flatly. “Based on what you told me two days ago, you’re not ready. What does Dr. Rawling say?”
“Fuck Rawling and the horse he rode in on,” I snapped. “And then bend him over and let the horse fuck him, too. He’s an asshole, and I’m done with him.”
“Uh, darlin’, if he doesn’t think you’re ready…” Hellhound began worriedly, but I overrode him.
“He’s the one who set me up.”
“What do you mean, he ‘set you up’?” Kane inquired dangerously.
A glance at the fire in his eyes made me backpedal hurriedly. “I didn’t really mean that. He was only doing his job, and I shouldn’t be so pissed off at him. It was just that I was hoping I wouldn’t have to go back to active duty for a while yet…”
Try ‘never’.
I bit back the word and continued, “…but this is just how it worked out. No big deal.”
“Sure as hell sounds like a big deal,” Hellhound observed, his brow still furrowed with concern. “What ain’t ya tellin’ us, darlin’?”
“The usual classified shit.” I waved a dismissing hand, knowing those magic words would prevent him from questioning me any further. “But don’t worry,” I added. “Stemp promised he wouldn’t dump me into the deep end. I’ve just got a simple courier job on Friday.”
“Any mission can turn into ‘the deep end’ if things go sideways,” Kane growled. “And if you’re not at a hundred percent…”
“I am,” I assured him. “Really. Stop worrying.” I changed the subject. “But speaking of worrying, you need to go in for your debriefing. Stemp’s getting antsy.”
“That will take hours. Maybe days.” He brushed the issue away with an impatient gesture. “It can wait. So, you might be able to send me the autopsy report by late tomorrow morning?”
“Probably. Are you looking for anything specific?”
Kane let out a breath of resignation. “I don’t know what I’m looking for. At this stage I’m grasping at straws. Maybe…” He hesitated. “According to police statistics, children Daniel’s age rarely travel farther than a mile on foot when they’re lost. The radius we’ve searched already exceeds that. There’s a diminishing rate of possibility that he went farther, but it seems more likely that we’re looking in the wrong place entirely.”
He closed his eyes briefly, then went on, “The river is the strongest possibility. If he fell in and was swept away…”
I reached over to squeeze his hand, but he went on, his voice hard and level. “The cadaver dogs searched downstream a long way today. Using the statistics we have available and knowing the river’s flow rate and terrain, it’s unlikely that his body would have been carried beyond the area they searched. It’s possible, of course, but…”
He shrugged, a tense jerk of his shoulders. “My gut tells me he’s not here. Maybe I’m fooling myself because I don’t want to believe the truth, but at this point it doesn’t matter. If there’s more to this situation than Daniel simply wandering off, I need more information and the autopsy report is the place to start. We’ll search again tonight, but tomorrow it’s time to shift our focus. And… Mayweather as much as told me…” Kane’s voice went husky. “…they’ll be winding down the search tomorrow. After thirty-six hours…”
His fists clenched.
“Dammit!” he exploded. “This shouldn’t have happened! I should have been the one taking him camping! I should have… If I had called Alicia even once in the past six years, I would have found out about him. He wouldn’t have needed a loser like Murphy…” His voice choked off.
My heart breaking, I put my arms around him, but he disengaged himself and stepped back, squaring his shoulders. “I’ll hire searchers to take over as soon as Mayweather calls off the official search,” he said levelly. “Others can do that as well as we can, and our time will be better spent investigating. I’m going to set up that email account now. Aydan, if you have to requalify tomorrow morning, you should go back to Silverside now. It’ll be nearly eleven by the time you get home.”
“No, I’ll help you look,” I disagreed. “I brought my night-vision and infrared gear, and three sets of eyes are better than two.”
“That’s true, but…” I could see he was torn, and after a moment he let out a breath. “All right. If you want to search with us until midnight, that’s fine, but then you need to go home.”
“Okay.” I flopped onto the bed. “After we coordinate the email account, you can lead the way to the site. I’ll follow in my car.”
By eleven-thirty PM my body was aching from the fatigue of the day compounded by nearly three hours of pushing through dense undergrowth and trudging over uneven ground in the darkness. Kane and Hellhound strode tirelessly a few yards on either side of me, the heat of their bodies glowing in my infrared vision.
We searched in silence, an unspoken surrender to the knowledge that Daniel, if he was here at all, was likely beyond the ability to hear or respond to a call.
I had just switched from full-infrared to night-vision when Kane snapped, “Heat signature, two o’clock!”
Flipping back to full-infrared, I spotted a glowing horizontal blob at approximately chest height. Maybe a child lying on a rock…?
I switched back to night-vision and we crashed through the woods, only to pull up short when we cleared the intervening trees.
“Shit,” Hellhound muttered.
My already-racing heart delivered a shock of adrenaline that burned all the way to my toes. “Open your jackets!” I barked. “Make yourselves as big as you can!”
My Glock was already in my hand, though I didn’t remember drawing it. One-handed, I fumbled my jacket open and spread it wide, an instinctive growl rumbling in my throat.
On my right, Hellhound’s pistol was steady in his hand, his free arm widening his jacket, too. Kane grew dramatically on my left, his arms and jacket widespread.
Obviously unimpressed by our show of dominance, the giant cougar subjected us to an intent inspection, rising slowly from its reclining position on a rock ledge. Its heavy dark-tipped tail swung rhythmically side to side, a furry pendulum counting down the final seconds of its prey.
A snarl ripped from my throat, fading into a keening growl that rattled between my bared teeth. The big cat’s eyes widened as if in surprise and it backed away a step, tail twitching.
Hellhound roared, “Fuck off!” at the same time Kane bellowed, “Scat!”, and the cougar gave us one last considering glance before turning to glide sinuously into the undergrowth. When the dark tail-tip disappeared into the bushes, Hellhound let out an explosive breath.
“Jesus Christ, Aydan, what the hell? Ya scared me worse’n the fuckin’ cougar, growlin’ like that.”
My laugh came out high and nervous while I turned slowly, scanning a full circle. “Sorry. Habit.”
“Habit? What the fuck, darlin’? How often d’ya hafta swear in cougar-language?”
“I used to do it a lot when I was a kid.” I flipped to full-infrared, still scanning anxiously around us. “There were some really aggressive feral tomcats around our farm and they used to scare the hell out of me. But once I learned to speak their language, they’d always back down and run. It was pure reflex to let fly with a snarl when I’m shit-scared by a cat.”
Hellhound laughed.
“Well, it still works like a damn. And I’m glad we didn’t hafta shoot it. What a beauty!”
“Our scare tactics might have worked for now.” I turned another slow three-sixty. “But cougars will stalk you and attack from behind. I’d rather meet a bear than a cougar any day.”
“Yeah,” Hellhound agreed. “But it ain’t gonna take on the three of us.”
“If it does, it’ll likely attack you, Aydan,” Kane supplied not-too-helpfully. “You’re the smallest of us.”
“Yeah, but she cussed it out big-time,” Hellhound argued. “It prob’ly fucked off for good.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter,” Kane replied. “Aydan, we’re going to walk you back to your car now. It’s time for you to leave.”
“You don’t need to-” I began.
“Let’s go,” Kane said firmly, and turned back toward the road. “I’ll take point. Hellhound, follow Aydan and watch our six.”
I didn’t protest any further. It was nearly midnight anyway. And with the back of my neck tingling at the thought of the cougar stalking us in the darkness, I was pathetically glad of their protection. I stuck close behind Kane’s broad back and took comfort from the sound of Hellhound’s footsteps behind me.
At my car, I hugged each of them in turn, wishing I could convince them to go back to the safety of the motel and knowing with an ache of pride that they were both too brave. I got into my car amid exhortations to drive carefully and pull over for a nap if I got tired, which I countered with equally forceful instructions to watch each other’s backs, stay warm in the chill of the high-country night, and call me as soon as they got back to the motel.
The drive home seemed interminable. In the forested higher elevations I strained my eyes for wildlife at the edges of my headlights’ range. Twice I braked hard when deer skittered out beside the road, and once my heart gave a hard thump at the sight of glowing green spots in the ditch. I slowed to a crawl, recognizing the telltale reflection of elk’s eyes, but the huge animals made no move to cross the road. I drove on, easing my tense fingers one by one on the wheel.
When I reached the blessedly open grain fields of the east, I relaxed my vigilance at last. The long day and cessation of tension dragged at my eyelids and I stopped repeatedly, getting out of the car to walk around before sliding back into the driver’s seat to sing at the top of my lungs while I drove.
Chapter 17
After an inadequate four hours of sleep, my alarm sounded only seconds before the phone rang. Eyes still half-closed, I tried to slap the snooze alarm and grab the phone handset simultaneously. I succeeded in knocking the alarm clock off the front of my bedside bureau and dropping the handset behind it.
Cursing, I scrambled out of bed and yanked the bureau aside to snatch the handset out of a fluffy nest of dust.
“Hello-choo! Sorry… Atchoo! Goddamn dust-bunnies…” I seized a tissue in time to stifle a third sneeze, then used a clean one to whisk the remaining dust off the handset before attempting to speak again. “Sorry. Hello?”
“Gesundheit,” Kane said, amusement warming his voice. “Where did you find the feral dust-bunnies? Your house was spotless last weekend.”
I mopped my running nose. “Behind my bedside table. Long story. How… How did it go last night?”
He sighed. “The same. I just wanted to let you know we’re back at the motel and we’re going to bed now. Call me…” He hesitated, obviously unwilling to mention our plan on an unsecured line. “…if you hear anything. I don’t want to sleep through it,” he added, making it clear that he expected me to call the instant I sent the autopsy report.
“I will,” I promised.
I signed in at Sirius Dynamics on the dot of eight AM and headed for the secured area before I could wake up enough to freak out in the time-delay chamber.
It was a good theory, and it almost worked. My heart was pumping a little harder by the time I scooted down the concrete stairs and burst into the cool white corridor below, but I didn’t need to take time to gather myself the way I usually did.
Striding toward the Weapons lab, I mentally congratulated myself. I was getting better at this. Maybe with a little more work I could finally overcome my claustrophobia.
I waved my security fob at the prox panel and the door released. Inside, I turned right and headed for the lab, hoping Dr. Chow was in a good mood today.
When I rounded the corner my heart sank. He was in his wheelchair again. Probably cranky as hell.
I drew a deep breath just as he looked up and snapped, “What the hell do you want?”
Yep, cranky.
Shit.
“Hi.” Glancing around the abandoned lab, I attempted a joke. “What, no alien-porn today?”
His black brow snapped down and he jerked a thumb in the direction of one of the labs. “They went in there about five minutes ago and they’re probably fucking while they watch us through the one-way window. You come down here just to get your jollies?”
“Special delivery,” I said cheerfully, and lifted the pheromone detector’s small box over my head.
“What, already?” He snatched it out of my hand and wheeled over to the nearest lab counter to connect it to a cable snaking to a computer. “I thought you weren’t going active until this morning. You watch a scary movie and piss your pants last night or something?”
“Something,” I agreed. “You should have a good ‘prey’ sample in there. A big cougar was sizing me up for a midnight snack last night.”
He spun his chair to face me, his eyebrow going up. “No shit? A cougar? Around here?”
“No, up by Rocky Mountain House.”
“What the hell were you doing up there at midnight?” He turned back to the counter and picked up a small screwdriver without waiting for my reply.
“Long story.” I watched in silence while he opened the case and extracted two tiny glass vials from the row inside. Then he consulted the computer screen.
“Okay, Sample One corresponds to last night’s flag at 23:32. But what the hell were you doing five minutes ago when it took Sample Two?”
“Nothing… oh. Shit.” Heat climbed my face. “Just ignore that one. I should’ve taken the recorder off.”
He pivoted to face me, the good side of his mouth twisting sardonically. “What, you really were getting your jollies? You kinky beeyotch.”
I snorted. “I wish. No, I’m claustrophobic and that time-delay chamber always freaks me out.” An involuntary sigh escaped me. “I thought I’d beaten it this time. Sorry. I’ll remember to take off the recorder next time.”
His frown softened. “Claustrophic, eh? That’s gotta suck. But it’s okay, it’ll be a good comparison to the ‘prey’ sample. Good way to compare a simple heightened adrenaline response with the fear of imminent attack.” He turned back to the counter and replaced the two vials with fresh ones, then tapped computer keys for a few seconds before unplugging the detector and closing it up again.
“Here you go.” He handed it back. “Don’t put it on until you’re upstairs this time.”
He didn’t sound irritated anymore, so I accepted the small box and nodded toward his legs, hoping I was doing the right thing. “You must’ve really done a number on them on the weekend. How long does it usually take to recover?”
Chow shrugged. “Normally I’d be back on my feet by now, but I got a little fold in the liner when I put the left one on. I realized it about halfway through the race and knew I should stop and smooth it out, but…” He grinned. “I was setting a personal best and I nailed it. I should be walking by tomorrow, and I’ll start training again on Thursday.”
“When’s your next race?”
“Saturday, and it’s only a five-K. Easy.”
I shook my head. “Easy for you to say. Want to do my fitness requalification for me this morning?”
He snorted. “Nice try, Kelly. Get your lazy ass over to that gym.”
I saluted him with middle finger extended and let the sound of his laught
er carry me to the door.
Instead of my friend Germain’s encouraging presence, the examiner was a dour middle-aged man who looked as though he’d take pleasure in failing me. Despite the knowledge that I had unofficially passed the tests less than a month ago, my palms moistened while I changed into my gym clothes.
Only four hours of sleep last night. God, I was tired. What if I couldn’t complete the fitness portion under the time limit? Stemp would have my ass on a platter.
And wouldn’t that be a lovely dish for the dinner party tonight? I suppressed a nervous snicker.
Shuffling out into the gym, I shot an apprehensive look at the obstacle course and the examiner’s forbidding features, then shook out my arms and legs and bounced up and down a few times to get my blood pumping.
Come on, body, don’t fail me now…
It didn’t, thank God.
When I collapsed in a gasping heap of sweat and jelly-like muscles at the finish line, the examiner’s mouth twisted as though he’d bitten into a lemon. “Congratulations,” he said. “You’ve retained your title as the oldest woman to qualify in the fitness test.”
If I’d had any breath to spare, I would have told him to kiss my wrinkly old ass. Fortunately I was too winded to speak, so I just nodded and dragged myself upright to stagger into the changing room.
The firearms qualification was easy by comparison, and when I emerged from the shooting range his nod was slightly less grudging. “Here you go,” he said, and handed me copies of the marking sheets before turning his back and striding out.
“Thank you, Mr. Congeniality,” I muttered, and followed.
Back in my office, I left the pheromone detector on my desk while I perched on the edge of my chair with a wary eye on the corridor. Stemp was expecting me, but first I needed some plausible reason to access the brainwave-driven virtual reality network in person instead of going through Brock.
Skimming the report on Labelle, I identified a couple of potential leads. Vague was probably best. Less to lie about.
The Spies That Bind Page 14
