Spy Now, Pay Later

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Spy Now, Pay Later Page 9

by Diane Henders


  Kane offered me his usual friendly nod and smile from across the table, and Spider’s youthful face lit up. “Hi, Aydan! Merry belated Christmas!” His almost-palpable happiness brought a smile to my lips despite my exhaustion, and I gave him a fond ‘hi’ in return.

  “Good morning, everyone.”

  I turned toward Stemp’s greeting automatically, but a flicker of concern distracted me from his first words as my gaze coasted over Germain and Jack on the other side of the table. They sat side by side, but they were leaning subtly apart and not looking at each other.

  Germain was too good an agent to betray any emotion, but Jack’s flawless forehead was slightly puckered and as I watched, her blue gaze darted to Germain for an instant before returning to Stemp, her full lips tightening.

  Uh-oh.

  “…reports,” Stemp was saying. Shit, he didn’t waste any time. I shelved my concern over my friends and focused on Stemp. “Anything new?” he asked.

  I spoke into the short silence. “Yeah, Hibbert dropped by my place in the middle of the night.”

  “Yes, I noted that in the surveillance records this morning,” Stemp said. “The analyst on duty texted you instead of calling, in case they’ve wiretapped your phone as well as planting the bug. I’ve assigned a tech to check for a wiretap today. For now, we’ll leave their listening devices in place. If the analysts need to alert you, they’ll text the words ‘thinking of you’, followed by one or more smiley emoticons to indicate the number of people approaching your house.”

  On top of every detail, as usual.

  I repressed the sudden urge to tell him I was glad he was back. It probably wouldn’t last. He’d find some way to piss me off as usual.

  “Thanks,” I said instead. “I’ll watch for texts from here on in.”

  Stemp eyed me with his usual lack of emotion. “Hibbert looked agitated. What did he want?”

  I kept my tone casual. “Oh, the usual. Threatened to rape me until I had to shit in a bag for the rest of my life. Burning, mutilation, yadda, yadda.” I kept talking over Jack’s small cry of horror. “He thought I’d complained to Parr about him. He obviously doesn’t know the bug is picking up all his lovely insults. Oh, and…” I slid the certified cheque across the table. “He brought me a little present.”

  Dermott leaned forward to gape at the cheque. “Christ, Kelly, another fifty grand? That’s a hundred grand from two different high-rollers in a week. Did you grab Parr by the nuts, too?”

  Everyone turned to me with raised eyebrows. Germain passed a hand over his chin as if hiding a smile, and the corner of Kane’s mouth quirked up.

  I fought the heat rising in my cheeks. “No. This is the retainer Parr promised me. When I met him for lunch yesterday to return his credit card, I told him I’d sue him for the plane crash if he didn’t pay up in full…”

  Dermott barked laughter, and I went on. “…and then I told him I wanted an extra payment if he wanted me to track down the so-called ‘special present’ Yana was bringing back from Vegas for him. So that’ll be another ten grand if I deliver in three days.”

  Dermott fell back in his chair with a guffaw. “Jesus Christ, Kelly, you’ve got more balls than any three guys I know! You torch his plane, kill his operatives, steal his secret weapon, and then put the screws to him to the tune of sixty grand. That’s fucking beautiful!”

  I shot a glance at Stemp’s expressionless façade. Shit, he was going to keep thinking I was a capable agent until my dumb luck ran out and my incompetence killed somebody.

  “I only killed one of his operatives and it was an accident,” I mumbled. “I’d have been dead if John hadn’t killed Yana before she could nail me with that weapon. And it was probably a really bad idea to piss Parr off.”

  “Maybe,” Stemp conceded. “But it was in character for Arlene Widdenback, and it’s useless to second-guess at this point. And three days gives us time to come up with a plan. Well done. Anything else?”

  “Nothing I can think of.” I slouched back in my chair.

  “Travers, Honey, have you got any analysis done on that weapon yet?” Dermott asked, smirking.

  Jack flushed.

  I winced. After they’d locked horns last week, I had thought Dermott would be smart enough to back off. Jack’s parents might have saddled her with blonde gorgeousness and the moniker of ‘Honey’, but I guessed Dermott was about to get a major dose of vinegar.

  “That’s ‘Dr. Travers’ to you,” she said coolly. “Unless you’re inviting me to call you by your middle name…” She paused for a single devastating instant. “…Shirley.”

  A choking noise came from Spider’s vicinity and a tide of crimson suffused Dermott’s face. “No,” he muttered. “What about that weapon?”

  I did my best to hide my delight. Brent Shirley Dermott. Jack wasn’t the only one with sadistic parents.

  “As I told you…” Jack paused, letting the razor-edged phrase take another slice out of Dermott before continuing, “…weapons are not my area of expertise. I did a preliminary analysis and then passed it on to Dr. Chow, the head of weapons R&D.”

  “That weapon is top-secret priority-one classified-” Dermott began to bluster.

  “Yes, Dr. Chow was a good choice.” Stemp’s dispassionate tone silenced him. “Can you give us the preliminary results, Dr. Travers?”

  Jack turned to Stemp with obvious relief. “It appears the weapon uses a heretofore unknown technology that focuses ultrasonic waves into a destructive beam. As I’m sure you know, ultrasound is used in many applications from healthcare to industrial testing, but its fundamental characteristics cause the ultrasonic waves to diverge and disperse rapidly. That severely limits its effective range…”

  Stemp raised a hand to stem the didactic flow. “So the weapon does what, precisely?”

  Jack gave the small sigh of a scientist asked to grossly oversimplify an explanation. “Precisely, we don’t know yet. In general terms, based on my very superficial analysis and John and Aydan’s description of its effects, I would surmise that it…” She hesitated and swallowed, her creamy skin paling. “…it… essentially reduces human tissue to… pulp. At a selected depth…”

  She swallowed again and her voice trembled when she continued, “…which appears to be a few inches below the skin surface. That would create massive disruption in the brain and/or major organs, causing instantaneous death without making a sound or leaving a mark on the skin. And the weapon appears to be mostly constructed of graphite composites and ceramic. So it can pass undetected through any security scanner in general use today.”

  Chapter 11

  Dermott’s voice broke the heavy silence in the room. “Holy shit. So it really is a fucking death ray.”

  “Yes.” Jack’s pallor made her look ill. “That is my preliminary conclusion. Dr. Chow will, of course, provide a much more comprehensive analysis after he has completed his testing.”

  “But…” Spider’s voice trembled. “We have the only one, right?”

  Stemp’s clinical tone chilled me. “Maybe. But someone out there has the schematics and has successfully created at least one working prototype. They can create others, if they haven’t already. We need to trace the origin of that weapon, quickly.”

  “Did you obtain any physical evidence from the device?” Kane’s strong baritone sounded as confident as ever, but I sensed tension in the set of his broad shoulders. “Fingerprints, fibres? We handled it with gloves, so we shouldn’t have disturbed anything.”

  Jack looked stricken. “I didn’t think of that. But…” Her expression firmed. “I didn’t touch it with my hands at any time. Dr. Chow-”

  Stemp was already barking orders into the phone. When he hung up, he faced us with his usual composure. “Dr. Chow says it hasn’t been compromised. I’ve assigned a forensic specialist to his team. If there’s any physical evidence, we’ll find it.”

  The air pressure lightened around the table.

  “Anything else?” Stemp
inquired. Silence and negative headshakes answered him, and after a pause he continued, “Very well. Next item.”

  He pinned me with his reptilian gaze. “Kelly, Kane, Germain, your top priority will be monitoring Parr and tracing this weapon, code reference Afterburner. Tammy Mellor will be joining you today to transition into Kelly’s former role in decryption.”

  Spider stiffened. Dermott shifted uncomfortably.

  Oh, shit.

  Spider would refuse to act as Tammy’s controller again. Would Stemp fire him the way Dermott had? And now that Stemp had Tammy for decryptions, I’d better prove my worth as an agent or he wouldn’t just fire me; he’d arrange for me to take a permanent dirt nap.

  Shit, shit…

  Stemp was still talking. “…Kelly, whenever you aren’t actively involved with Project Afterburner, you can continue with your decryptions. Webb, you’ll oversee Ms. Mellor’s work and when Kelly is here, work with her as usual.”

  Stemp paused and his flat gaze took in everyone at the table, lingering on Spider. “Ms. Mellor is, and will remain, unaware of her role in the decryptions. As far as she knows, she is simply acting as a super-user in our simulation network. Does anyone have any issues to bring forward?”

  Spider and I exchanged a glance. When he spoke, his voice was shaky but determined. “I won’t control her mind in the network without her knowledge.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” Stemp replied crisply. “We have assigned another analyst, Tyler Brock, to be her controller, and Jill Francis is her handler. You’ll meet them both this morning. Brock is, by necessity, aware of the clandestine decryptions. Francis has been briefed on the brainwave-driven virtual reality network and the way in which super-users enhance its operation, but she is not aware that we are hacking and decrypting external data.”

  Stemp glanced around the table. “Those operations are strictly need-to-know. Unless it’s absolutely necessary, Francis is not to be briefed.” His gaze snapped back to Spider. “You will be the team lead for the expanded decryption program, coordinating with Brock and Francis and facilitating Kelly’s work with your usual technical support. I trust that will be satisfactory.”

  The last sentence was delivered with exactly the same inflection as the others, but the unspoken ‘or else’ lingered in the air.

  Spider flushed and knotted his skinny fingers together. “I… guess… Okay. Yeah.”

  “Don’t guess.” Stemp’s voice was deadly dry.

  “No, I mean…” Spider’s blush deepened. “I meant… thanks. For… keeping me.”

  Stemp inclined his head gravely. “After your exemplary work in preventing the loss of two valuable agents and the weapon prototype, it would be foolish to do otherwise.”

  Not fired. Promoted.

  Suck on that, Dermott. I prevented myself from looking in his direction, hoping my triumph didn’t show.

  Stemp glanced at his watch. “We’ll take a short break. Brock will join us here in ten minutes for a briefing on the decryptions, after which we’ll meet with Mellor and Francis to hand off the decryption project. Then Kane, Germain, and Kelly…” He nodded at each of us in turn. “…we’ll meet regarding Afterburner. Thank you, Dr. Travers; you can return to your regular duties now. Dermott, I’ll take it from here.”

  Dermott nodded without making eye contact, and everyone rose to head for the door.

  “Just one more thing.” Jack’s clear voice cut through the shuffling of chairs. She smiled at Stemp. “It’s good to have you back, Director.”

  His expressionless façade softened into an answering smile. “Thank you, Dr. Travers.”

  Dermott pushed through the group and left. By the time we spilled into the hallway he was nowhere to be seen, and I heaved a sigh of relief.

  The men straggled toward the lunchroom, and I headed for the ladies’ room. Jack followed, and we reconvened at the sinks after using the facilities.

  Grinning, I cast a sidelong glance at her elegant ivory profile as we washed our hands. “Shirley? How did you find that out? My God, his parents must have hated him.”

  Her patrician features twisted into unholy glee. “Know your enemy. I’m not the bimbo he thinks I am.”

  “If he thinks you’re a bimbo, he’s even more of an idiot than I thought.”

  Her smile vanished. “He’s a man. And I’m a blonde with big boobs.” She slapped the water tap closed and jerked a paper towel out of the dispenser. “I am so sick of men and their… issues!”

  “Um…” I detoured around her to take a towel of my own. “Is… everything okay… um, with you and, um…”

  “Carl?” She crushed the towel and shoved it into the garbage. “Fine. There is no ‘everything’. No anything. It was one kiss on Christmas Eve. Just two lonely people reacting after a stressful situation. Nothing more.” She grabbed another towel.

  “Uh…”

  She was still talking, staring at her hands while they slowly shredded the paper towel. “It was actually quite funny.” She let out a bleak laugh. “We parted ways on the sidewalk in front of Spider’s house. Both of us fumbling like idiots, explaining how we liked each other but it couldn’t turn into anything.”

  “Uh…”

  “But it can’t.” She stuffed the remains of the towel into the garbage. “I refuse to date a man with a dangerous job like Carl’s. If I’m going to let my children get attached to a man, he has to be there to stay. Not like my ex. I won’t put them through the pain of another loss.”

  “Um, you don’t usually get a guarantee…”

  “…And it doesn’t matter anyway.” Jack frowned at the garbage can. “He won’t date a woman with children.”

  “Wha…? Why the hell not? He-”

  I shut up before I could blab about his kids. None of my business.

  “He said he failed his own children, and he won’t fail somebody else’s, too. Anyway, it’s no big deal. It was just a kiss.” She stared into middle distance and sighed, pink rising in her cheeks. “But what a kiss! My heavens, Aydan…”

  She shook herself and turned to face me with a grimace. “I can’t believe I’m gossiping about a man, a co-worker no less, in the women’s bathroom. Please forget I said any of that. How was your Christmas?”

  I slam-dunked my paper towel and headed for the door. “You don’t even want to know.”

  She sighed and followed. “I don’t know how you do it, Aydan. I’m going back to my nice safe lab, and I’m thankful for every minute of it. Let’s have lunch later, and you can update me on the new team members.”

  “Sure.” I held the door open for her. “Brock is probably your typical computer geek, but I’m looking forward to meeting Jill Francis. I’ve never met a female agent before.”

  Jack paused, frowning. “You are a female agent.”

  “Um.” Heat rose in my cheeks.

  Jack laughed. “You’re amazing. I’ve never known anybody who maintained their cover as convincingly as you do. If I hadn’t read your mission reports, I’d swear you really are just a civilian bookkeeper.” She shook her head, still smiling. “See you later.”

  I repressed the urge to beat myself senseless against the wall and turned back to the meeting room instead, massaging my aching temples.

  I was the last to arrive again. Kane, Germain, and Stemp leaned back in their chairs cradling coffee mugs, their expressions and posture identically cop-neutral. Spider was bandying incomprehensible tech-talk with the skinny personage draped against the wall beside him.

  Tyler Brock. Yikes. Not exactly your typical computer geek.

  From the toes of his retro black-and-white hightop sneakers to the tips of his shaggy hair, everything about Brock screamed ‘non-conformist’. Tight red jeans hugged toothpick legs, and a 1950s-style plaid suit jacket slouched over a white shirt and yellow sweater-vest. The ensemble was completed with Elvis Costello glasses and a bulky knit scarf and tuque. I barely registered thin forgettable features and patchy facial hair behind enough lip, cheek, and e
yebrow piercings to make my face ache in sympathy.

  “…seriously, that’s lame as eff,” Brock was saying, waving a disparaging hand at Spider’s beloved laptop. Spider’s face fell, and Brock heaved a theatrical sigh. “Don’t go all emo. You know I’m right.”

  Spider turned to me instead of responding. “Aydan, this is Tyler Brock,” he said. “Brock, Aydan Kelly.”

  Brock raised a double-pierced eyebrow, the ring-bedecked corner of his mouth rising in a half smile. Or a sneer; I wasn’t sure which.

  “Yo,” he said.

  “Uh… hi.” I sank into a chair, trying to tear my gaze away from the discs that stretched holes the size of loonies in his earlobes.

  He poked a finger through one of the holes, his lips twisting. “Like my plugs?”

  Okay, that was definitely a sneer. And he had insulted Spider.

  I gave him a sneer of my own. “Nothing cooler than having earthworms dangling from your head.”

  “Earthw…?” His smirk faded into confusion.

  “Yeah.” I adopted a bright, helpful tone. “That’s what your earlobes look like when you take those discs out. The bottom part looks just like a dead earthworm hanging there under the hole.”

  Germain’s sudden cough sounded as though it concealed a laugh.

  “Let’s begin.” Stemp’s dry tones overrode any rejoinder Brock might have intended. “Webb?”

  Spider straightened and faced Brock. “You’ve read the reports?”

  Brock nodded, his snotty attitude fading. “It’ll take me a while to assimilate it all, but I get the basics. Mellor holds a unique authentication key that gets her invisibly into any network and lets her decrypt everything on the fly; I have a unique counterpart key that interfaces with hers to let me drive her through the networks wherever we want to gather data. We record the data; she doesn’t know anything about it…” He trailed off, eyeing me.

  “That’s how it will be with you and Tammy,” Spider agreed. “Aydan uses her authentication key standalone, and she goes where she wants.”

  Brock frowned. “But you can control her if you want. Your key overrides hers. She’s just a slave.”

 

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