Spy Now, Pay Later

by Diane Henders

  “Don’t thank me,” I muttered. “I’m sure there are all kinds of ways this can go wrong.”

  “Yeah, prob’ly,” he agreed cheerfully as we headed for the door. “But we been through shit before, an’ it worked out okay. I’m headin’ out now so I got time to get in position. Call me when you’re gettin’ close.”

  “Okay.” I extracted a burner phone from my waist pouch and handed it to him. “I’ll call you on this.”

  Chapter 38

  I had barely shed my coat at Sirius Dynamics when Spider tapped on my door, his eyes sparkling. “Guess what?”

  “What?”

  “Kane called in on the secured line last night.” He raised a restraining hand as I opened my mouth to demand more information. “That’s all I know so far. Dermott mentioned it when I told him about the footage I found last night. He’s briefing us in ten minutes.”

  I slid into my chair to check my computer, where the meeting request glowed like a beacon of hope. “Thank God. That’s one less thing to worry about.”

  “Oh. Um… speaking of worrying…” Spider’s suddenly downcast face made my chest tighten.

  “What? Spit it out, Spider.”

  “I, uh… my facial recognition software flagged Stemp last night, too. He showed up in the widened search area.” He hesitated. “He flew out of Edmonton airport wearing his George Harrison disguise the night before last. Destination Frankfurt.”

  My heart sank. “Shit. He must have left the meeting in Drumheller and driven directly to the Edmonton airport.”

  Spider leaned in to whisper, “Should we tell Dermott about Katya now?”

  “I don’t know.” I frowned up at his troubled expression. “If she was sick or something, that would explain his personal emergency, and it would make sense that he’d fly overseas. And that would explain why he wanted me to stall Dermott, too, but why would he fly as George Harrison? And why would he take the weapon with him?” I stared into space, tugging a lock of hair.

  How much did I really trust Stemp? I didn’t know the man at all. My gut told me he wouldn’t betray us, but what the hell did my gut know? This was the same gut that thought it was a good idea to pig out on beer and burgers right before bed…

  “Well, let’s see how the briefing goes.” Spider’s uncertain voice interrupted my thoughts. “It’s time to go anyway.”

  I nodded and followed him down the hall, my prescient gut squirming with trepidation.

  When we arrived at the meeting room, Dermott’s grim face did nothing to ease my worry. And it didn’t help that Holt looked as though he was trying to conceal satisfaction.

  As soon as the door closed behind us, Dermott rose to pace. “Kane made contact last night.” He gave me a nod. “You were right when you guessed there was another player involved in the original weapon deal. Yana was supposed to deliver the weapon to Fuzzy Bunny, but instead she planned to divert it to another arms dealer, Volslav. We don’t know yet whether Volslav is a person or an organization, but Yana probably intended to set Kane up to take the fall with Fuzzy Bunny when the weapon vanished.”

  He cracked a knuckle and continued, “Thanks to Webb’s facial recognition software, we have an identity for Dawn White. On the surface, a quiet little secretary in a quiet little company, but Kane says she’s connected with Volslav. And she’s the one who gave him the information to convict those arms couriers seven years ago.”

  “What does that mean?” I asked. “Why would she show up now?”

  Dermott shrugged. “I don’t know, and Kane didn’t have time to elaborate. White and Kane are meeting Volslav at six tonight so I assume Kane is maintaining his cover as an arms dealer. And more good news; the expert they met in Drumheller identified the developer of the weapon. I’ve set up teams to raid the developer’s lab and Volslav’s meeting at the same time.”

  “But what about Parr and Fuzzy Bunny?” I asked. “I thought the whole point of this operation was to nail them.”

  Dermott grimaced. “Yeah, that’d be nice, but we’ve stumbled onto an important power struggle here. It looks as though Volslav controls Europe, and Fuzzy Bunny is angling to expand there. If they control this weapon, they could do it. But if Volslav controls the weapon, that gives them a foothold in Fuzzy Bunny’s territory here. If we nail Volslav now, it cripples their move into North America. We can’t afford to miss this chance. And you’re still building the case against Fuzzy Bunny anyway.”

  “But won’t it blow Kane’s cover if you hit the lab and his meeting with Volslav?”

  Dermott shrugged. “It’s a chance we have to take. And we have more important problems, because now we know Stemp’s up to no good. Kane was expecting him to be at the meeting with Volslav tonight. He had no idea Stemp had escaped overseas with the weapon. And if Stemp has been an agent for Volslav all along, we’re fucked. He could be delivering the weapon right into their hands, along with all our classified intel.”

  Holt turned a sardonic smile on me. “Still feeling warm and fuzzy about Stemp?”

  “Actually… yeah, I think so.” I turned to Dermott. “Stemp sent me a message last night. He said he had the weapon and everything was okay, but he couldn’t call in. He expects to have everything resolved today. He’ll probably be in touch soon with instructions for Kane.”

  At least I hoped that’s why he wanted me to stall…

  “What the hell, Kelly?” Dermott snapped. “How and when did he contact you and why didn’t you call it in right away?”

  “Um…”

  I blinked stupidly. It hadn’t even occurred to me to call in last night. Apparently my subconscious had already cast its vote of confidence in Stemp.

  “Um, it was the middle of the night and all he said was ‘have item, all okay but can’t call in, need twelve hours’. He used the message system from, um…” I trailed off, glancing at Holt. “…another mission. Sorry, classified.”

  “And you believed him?” Holt demanded. “Fuck, what kind of chump are you? He’s got the weapon and he’s using you to help him cover his tracks-”

  I interrupted, “Or he’s doing his job and using the weapon to track down-”

  “He fled the fucking country, Kelly! With a fucking top-secret weapon!” The vein was bulging in Dermott’s forehead again. “How fucking naive are you? Stemp’s been playing you from day one. Don’t you know he’s got a complete psych profile on you, documenting all the best ways to manipulate you?”

  Suddenly I’d had enough of Dermott’s shit. My voice came out hard and cold. “I’m sure he does. He told me right from the beginning that he’d manipulate me in any way necessary to protect national security. I’m equally sure he’s got a file like that on everybody. It’s what he does. It’s why he’s good at his job. And he’s innocent until proven guilty, so cut him some slack.”

  “Not in our world, Kelly,” Dermott spat. “In our world we stop assholes like him before innocent people die. I’d throw you in the brig for colluding with him if I didn’t think you’re too fucking dumb to even realize you were being played.”

  Red suffused my vision and I rocketed to my feet, fists clenching. “Listen, you fu-”

  A hard shoe poked my shin and I barely suppressed the urge to lash out in return. Shooting me a warning look from across the table, Holt murmured, “Anger management, Kelly.”

  I sucked in a long breath through my nose. Then I faced Dermott, my teeth creaking under the strain of my clenched jaw.

  “I’m going to work on Fuzzy Bunny’s case,” I grated. “I have a meeting with Barnett at noon in Calgary.” I turned to Holt. “Can you back me up?”

  “No.” Dermott answered before Holt could open his mouth. “As of now, I’m promoting Holt to lead the mission to apprehend Stemp. And you better hope he doesn’t find anything to compromise you in the process.” He returned my glare. “You’re lucky I still need you on the Fuzzy Bunny case, or you’d be in lockdown. Get out of my sight.”

  I forced my rigid muscles into motion and
stalked out with all the limber grace of a rust-ridden robot. Practically snorting steam, I strode to my office and grabbed my coat. I was halfway down the stairs when Spider’s tremulous voice halted me.

  “Aydan, wait!” He hurried down behind me, his lanky limbs flailing awkwardly in his haste. “You can’t go without any backup!”

  I drew a long slow breath and held my voice level. “It’s okay. Arnie’s going to back me up. And I’m going to pick up some weapons and a vest at Stores. Barnett is going to be pissed that I lied about having the photo of George Harrison. I hope he won’t be pissed enough to shoot me, but…” I shrugged, grimacing. “I hope those vests work. And I hope he doesn’t go for a head shot.”

  “But, Aydan…” He stopped, his hazel eyes troubled. “Okay, I know it’s your job. Just… be careful. And don’t leave right away. I’ll meet you at Stores with a screen capture of Stemp in his George Harrison disguise. At least you’ll have something to give Barnett.”

  Gratitude warmed my heart. “Thanks, Spider, you’re the best!”

  He turned to hurry back upstairs and I headed for Stores, my anger dissolving as I switched to planning mode.

  Who knew when I’d make it back, so I’d better make sure I was well supplied. My steps slowed. Damn. A bulletproof vest and trank guns seemed like a good idea at first blush, but what if Sharkface caught me with them? My cover would be blown sky-high. And if I somehow managed to survive that, Dermott would have my hide for letting Sharkface see a classified weapon.

  I hissed out a breath between my teeth. Either way, the vest was still my best choice. If Parr still needed me, Sharkface wouldn’t lay a hand on me so he’d never know about it. And if Sharkface had orders to kill me, I’d have to breach my cover and shoot him anyway. Assuming he didn’t shoot me first…

  I pushed that thought away and strode into Stores.

  I was just emerging laden with gear when Spider hurried up. “Here’s the photo,” he said, his youthful face scrunched into worried lines. “I hope it’s good enough. I thought about doing a quick sim and making a screen capture that would show his face, but…” He trailed off, looking miserable. “I didn’t know what to do.”

  “It’s okay, Spider, this is fine.” I studied the photo he had handed me, frowning at the file folder blocking Stemp’s features. “Maybe this is why Stemp got into his disguise for the benefit of our cameras,” I said slowly. “Maybe he was trying to cover my ass by giving me something to pass on to Fuzzy Bunny without giving away the whole show.”

  “I hope so.” Spider’s lips trembled. “Be careful, Aydan.” He threw his arms around me, and I patted his shoulder before withdrawing to put on my most reassuring expression.

  “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

  “Call me if you need anything.”

  I tossed off a salute and smile to hide my fear and headed for the stairs, leaving him gnawing his lip in the corridor behind me.

  Sliding into my car, I drew a long breath and let it out slowly. A meeting in a public place in the middle of the day. How dangerous could it be? I’d be perfectly safe.

  I swallowed hard. I’d just keep telling myself that. Never mind the flock of deranged butterflies doing kamikaze aerobatics in my stomach.

  I pulled out my phone, and Hellhound answered on the first ring. “Hey, darlin’. Ya headin’ out already? I ain’t even halfway to Calgary yet.”

  “Yeah.” I blew out a breath and rubbed ineffectually at the knotted muscles at the back of my neck. “Dermott was being a prick and it was either leave now or shoot the fucker.”

  He grunted amusement. “Probl’y shoulda shot him.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m holding that in reserve for Plan B…” I paused as a thought struck me. “Speaking of Plan B, I’m going to give you the number for Germain’s burner phone. I don’t know exactly where he is, but I think he’s in Calgary somewhere. If anything goes wrong he’ll be more help than Dermott. Have you got a pen handy?”

  Hellhound chuckled. “Don’t need one. Just read it off to me.”

  I complied, shaking my head. “Damn, I wish I had your memory.”

  “Well, it ain’t always all it’s cracked up to be, darlin’, but it has its good points. Like on long drives when I get to replay all my mind-movies of havin’ ya in my bed.” His voice deepened. “An’ other places. I just been thinkin’ about that time in the passenger seat a’ Dave’s truck.”

  The memory brought a rush of warmth that left me slightly breathless. “Mmm. That’s one of my favourites, too.”

  His voice dropped to a seductive rasp that vibrated my body like a big diesel engine. “We could talk dirty while we drive, darlin’. That’d make the trip a helluva lot more fun.”

  The vibrations spread to interesting places and I squirmed. “That would be a bad idea. When you use that voice on me I can’t see straight. And I wouldn’t want you to have an accident if you’ve got your hand on the wrong stickshift while you’re driving.”

  “Which one’s the wrong one?” His suggestive growl made me grin, imagining his bouncing eyebrows. “An’ what kinda accident are ya talkin’ about?”

  “The kind that hurts you. I want you in one piece so I can play with your stickshift later,” I teased. “So get your mind out of the gutter and focus on the mission.”

  “Hell, darlin’, my mind’d hafta crawl up a helluva long way just to get into the gutter in the first place.” His bantering tone levelled into seriousness. “Okay, I’m gonna set up behind a knoll above the west side a’ the parkin’ lot. I’ll circle around on foot an’ get there from the back so there ain’t any tracks in the snow from the parkin’ lot. The off-leash area is over the crest a’ the hill, so nobody should spot me from above. Make sure ya park on the other side a’ the lot from Barnett an’ try an’ keep him where I got a clear sight line.”

  “Okay.” I drew a deep breath, easing the tension from my shoulders. “Thank you. You have no idea how much better it makes me feel to know you’ve got my back.”

  His rasp smoothed to a soft rumble. “I got a pretty good idea. Ya been coverin’ my back for a while, an’ it feels damn good.” Before I could respond he added, “Call me if anythin’ changes. Be safe, darlin’.”

  I whispered, “You, too,” before he hung up. Smiling around the pleasant lump in my throat, I put the car in gear.

  I arrived in Calgary early enough to stop at a drive-through, but the burger and fries sat in a cold greasy lump in the pit of my stomach while I drove toward Nose Hill Park.

  What if Sharkface simply shot me as soon as I got out of my car? Or hell, as soon as I drove up? What could Hellhound do from his vantage point who-knew-how-far away? Call the police and the coroner; that was about it.

  But Nose Hill’s big off-leash area was a favourite with dog walkers and there were bound to be people there at noon. Shooting me in front of witnesses would be stupid. And anyway, Parr probably didn’t want me killed outright. More likely he’d want to extract as much information from me as he could. Sharkface probably had instructions to abduct me so they could torture me at their leisure…

  Gee, there was a cheery thought. I swallowed hard and adjusted my sweaty grip on the steering wheel while the greasy lump rotated in my stomach.

  Nothing bad would happen. Hellhound would be watching over me. And I was armed.

  Nothing bad would happen.

  I repeated the mantra over and over as I turned into the parking lot. Breathing a quiet ‘thank you’ at the sight of Sharkface’s dark SUV at the south end, I parked at the north end. Hellhound would have his sight line.

  But so much for ‘lots of witnesses’. There were only two other empty cars in the lot besides Hellhound’s Forester. Damn.

  I was quivering in the driver’s seat wondering what to do when Sharkface got out of his SUV and strode toward my car. That made up my mind. No way I’d let him walk up to my car and trap me inside. I sprang out and hurried across the lot to meet him halfway.

  His flat eyes apprais
ed me when I stopped several feet away. “Where’s my picture?” he growled.

  “H-here.” I extracted the folded sheet from my parka pocket and held it out left-handed. The paper fluttered in the dead-calm air as if shaken by a strong wind, and he gave me his shark-toothed grin.

  “Whatsamatter, sweet-ass? Don’t you trust me?”

  “Hell, no.” I turned away slightly as he approached, extending the photo as if to keep as far away from him as possible. With any luck its movement would distract him from my right hand, hovering over the concealed holster that contained my trank gun…

  Instead of taking the photo, his hand flashed out to clamp around my wrist. I let out a yelp and made a not-too-vigorous effort to jerk away. Let him underestimate me…

  His grip tightened like a vise. “Settle down. I just want to make sure you don’t run off.” With his free hand, he snatched the paper and snapped it open. Then his face darkened as he crumpled the photo and shoved it in his pocket. “What the hell is that supposed to be?”

  “It’s a p-picture of George Harriso-” I ducked as he swung at me. His open-handed slap glanced off the top of my head instead of my cheek, jolting pain down my neck.

  He yanked me close to growl down into my face. “It’s a picture of a file folder with a guy hiding behind it, you dumb bitch. It’s fucking useless. And so are you.”

  “I’m not useless,” I babbled, letting my voice go shrill in not-too-simulated terror. “You still need me. I can get that bottle from Kane…”

  He barked mirthless laughter. “We’ve got Kane. You’re just a nuisance now.” He twisted my arm behind my back and shoved me in the direction of the SUV. “And you know what I do with nuisances.”

  My heart stopped, my limbs freezing in place.

  They had Kane.

  No, no…

  Sharkface jerked my arm, yanking me back to awareness. “Move, bitch, or I’ll break it.”