Spy Now, Pay Later

by Diane Henders

  He collapsed without a sound as Hellhound crowded in behind me. Dodging around the meat counter, we had almost reached the door behind it when two gunshots slammed terror into my veins.

  Momentum carried me to the door. Behind me, Hellhound roared our prearranged signal, “Incoming!”

  Propelled through the door by Hellhound’s battle cry, I snapped into a sidestep to clear the way even as my mind froze in horror.

  Blood.

  So much blood.

  My nightmares came alive before my eyes. Kane’s body dangling by its arms from a meathook, the obscenely sharp point protruding from his wrists. Slow runnels of blood shockingly scarlet on the white tile floor…

  Kane’s grey gaze met mine and reality rushed in to supplant the horrible memory.

  He still had his eyes. They hadn’t blinded him. The meathook wasn’t impaling his wrists; they were bound and hooked over it. He was battered but I couldn’t see any life-threatening injuries…

  I jerked my gaze away to register the rest of the scene in a snapshot of adrenaline.

  Germain holstered his weapon as he hurried in from the open back door. Two men lay unmoving on the floor, their guns spilled from lax fingers, their blood bright against the drying smears and spatters.

  Beside me, Dawn White’s naked body leaked crimson from so many wounds my mind shuddered away from cataloguing them. I instinctively moved toward her as she writhed, her clawed fingers scraping across the blood-covered floor to drag her closer…

  Closer to the fallen man’s gun.

  Sheer reflex jerked my body into motion as she grabbed the gun and swung it up.

  “Die, bastard,” she gurgled, the words bubbling out on a gout of blood.

  Shots deafened me. Impact slammed me to the floor.

  More blasts. Her body jerked as Germain’s bullets found their mark.

  Silence bulged into my eardrums, an expanding hush that echoed the white explosion of pain in my shoulder. Muffled shouting pushed the silence aside and Hellhound’s face appeared above me, his bruises dark against his bone-white pallor.

  I dragged my good hand over to explore the hole high on the left side of my parka. “Vest,” I croaked. “I’m okay.”

  He nodded and sprang up, vanishing from my field of view.

  I gradually made sense of the shouting through the distortion of my damaged hearing.

  Germain’s voice. “Officers down! Medic!”

  I tried to roll over but my body wouldn’t cooperate.

  More yelling. “Keep pressure on it! Help me get him down!”

  I managed to haul myself up onto my good elbow just as a uniformed police officer and a paramedic dashed through the door. I glimpsed Germain and Hellhound crouched over Kane’s body, now lying on the floor. Their crimson hands pressed to his chest, oh God…

  A stretcher rattled through the door, more paramedics closing the circle around Kane. One crouched briefly beside Dawn White’s body, checking for a pulse before turning away.

  He knelt beside me instead, easing me back to the floor despite my protests. A few moments later Germain and Hellhound joined him, their faces grim while they wiped blood off their hands.

  “Is he…” My words choked into silence.

  “Hit in the chest.” Germain’s voice vibrated with tension. “But he’s conscious. It might not be as bad as it looks.”

  Both men hunkered beside me as the paramedic unzipped my parka. His face cleared when he spotted the bulletproof vest, and he gently unfastened it to pull the neck of my sweatshirt aside and examine my left shoulder.

  “Your collarbone doesn’t look broken,” he reassured me. “The impact mark is just below it. Can you move your arm?”

  I managed a short and painful arc and he nodded. “You’re probably just bruised, but we can take you in…” He was interrupted by the stretcher’s departure, Kane’s motionless body drenched in blood, his face obscured by an oxygen mask.

  I sat up, sucking in a breath through my teeth when my shoulder shifted. “I’ll ride in the ambulance with him.”

  “No.” The paramedic eyed me with sympathy. “I’m sorry, no passengers. They’re taking him to the Foothills Hospital if you want to go there later. Don’t hurry, though. He’ll go straight into surgery and you won’t be able to see him until he’s out of recovery. Minimum three or four hours, a lot more if the damage is extensive.”

  “But he’ll be okay, right?” I clutched his sleeve. “He’s really tough, and he was still conscious…”

  “I don’t know; I didn’t attend him…” The paramedic must have seen the desperation in my eyes. “If he was still conscious and breathing on his own, I’d say that’s a good sign. Do you want to go in for an x-ray just to make sure you don’t have any cracked ribs?”

  I stared blankly at Dawn White’s ravaged remains, her blood slowly congealing in rivulets toward the floor drain.

  Go in and wait for hours, praying for Kane’s life while Parr wallowed in luxury bought with blood.

  Not fucking happening.

  I heaved myself to my feet, hugging my arm to keep it from moving too much. “No, I’m fine.” I turned to Germain. “Carl, thank you. I hope you can still salvage your…” I pressed my lips shut, remembering the paramedic’s presence in the nick of time. “Arnie, I have to go. Can you wait at the hospital and call me as soon as you have news?”

  “Where ya goin’?”

  I took one last glance around the carnage, the cold rage expanding to replace my heart. “Back to work.” I turned on my heel and strode out into the store.

  “Aydan, wait.” Germain’s voice stopped me at the door. He hurried over, his eyes dark and worried in his strained face. “I…” He made an awkward gesture as if he didn’t know what to do with his hands. “When I said ‘don’t be a cowardly bookkeeper’ on the phone earlier, I didn’t mean you were a coward; you’re the bravest woman I know and an excellent agent and-”

  “It’s okay.” I patted him absently on the shoulder. “I have to go.”

  “Wait. Please. I thought you needed a pep-talk, but it came out wrong and I’m sorry. I just wanted you to drop your cover so we could plan…”

  “I know, Carl, and it’s fine. You’re right, I needed to hear it just then. I’ll talk to you later, okay? Good luck with your mission.”

  My words came as if from someone else’s mouth, my mind already fully engaged in my planning. Slipping past the milling uniforms and flashing lights, I punched Dave’s speed dial.

  “Where are you?” I demanded as soon as he picked up.

  “Northbound Deerfoot at McKnight. Everything okay?”

  My throat closed and I forced my voice to stay level. “I hope so. Meet me where you dropped us off, as soon as you can get there. If there’s anybody around, move on and phone me with a new location.”

  “’Kay.”

  Blessing his unquestioning trust, I hung up and nearly jumped out of my skin when Hellhound loomed out of the dusk beside me.

  “Where d’ya think you’re goin’?” he growled.

  “Back to the truck. I’ve got work to do.”

  “An’ ya thought you’d just go do it by yourself?”

  I smiled up into his scowl. “Not if you’re coming along.”

  “I’m comin’.”

  “Really? I thought you were just breathing hard.” The reflexive joke fell from my lips without humour. He didn’t exactly smile, but the harsh lines in his face relaxed. I squeezed his hand and added, “I’m glad you’re here.”

  We slid into the car and I grabbed another secured phone.

  Dermott took forever to answer. When he did, he sounded so distracted I wasn’t sure if he’d gotten more than the most basic points in the hurried update I barked out.

  “… and call me as soon as you hear anything from the hospital,” I finished, but he hung up so fast I wasn’t sure he’d heard me.

  I swore and pointed the car toward our meeting place.

  I could hear thumping from th
e trailer as soon as we pulled up.

  “Shit, lucky we taped their mouths or they’d be yellin’ their fuckin’ heads off,” Hellhound muttered. He jumped out almost before I stopped the car and Dave hurried toward us, wide-eyed. Hellhound scowled and flung up a silencing hand. “Don’t ask.”

  Dave looked to me for confirmation, and I nodded. “What he said.” I turned to Hellhound. “Is that coming from the front or the back?”

  He cocked his head, listening for a moment before replying, “Front.”

  So they hadn’t escaped their bonds. Thank God.

  I let out a breath. “Dave, you don’t see anything; you don’t hear anything. Just let us back into the trailer and close the doors. I’ll tell you where we’re stopping next.”

  “But, uh… Aydan…” He leaned down to peer through my plastic window imploringly. “I smelled something…”

  “No, you didn’t.” I locked eyes with him and held his gaze until he nodded.

  “’Kay.” He turned away and busied himself with the door latches and ramps.

  Hellhound leaned down to my window to speak softly. “I’ll go in an’ trank ‘em both again while you’re loadin’ the car.”

  “No. I need Arlington awake.”

  “Okay. I’ll shoot Barnett, an’ the gas oughta knock Arlington out long enough to keep him quiet while we load.”

  “Perfect.”

  As soon as Dave put one of the ramps in place, Hellhound hurried inside the trailer. A moment later the thumping ceased and he jogged out again, flashing an innocent look at Dave’s perplexed expression.

  “Thought you were gonna guide Aydan up the ramps from inside,” Dave protested.

  “Yeah, but I farted in there an’ damn near burned my nose hairs off.” Hellhound fanned a hand under his nose. “Christ, ya can smell it from here! Somethin’ musta crawled up my ass an’ died.”

  Dave recoiled, his nose twitching again. “That’s you? You’re sick! Aydan, come and ride up front with me. You don’t have to put up with…” He shot a dark look at Hellhound before finishing, “…that.” Hellhound smirked and Dave’s fists clenched, his jaw jutting. “At least excuse yourself in front of a lady. Show some respect.”

  Hellhound’s smile vanished and he took a threatening step forward. “I’m really fuckin’ sick a’ ya sayin’ I don’t respect Aydan,” he ground out. “Shut your fuckin’ pie-hole or I’ll give ya a lesson in respect, ya fuckin’ little-”

  “Guys!” I sprang out of the car and planted myself between them. Glowering, they sidestepped to keep each other in view.

  My ravelled nerves snapped.

  Fists clenched, I flung my head back and let out a roar of sheer frustration. Both men jumped, their mouths falling open. Taking advantage of their instant of immobility, I jabbed a finger at Dave.

  “You! In the cab! Now!” I whirled on Hellhound. “You! In the back! Move it!”

  They didn’t exactly leap to obey, but they did shuffle grudgingly in the directions I indicated.

  “Guide me up the ramps,” I snapped at Hellhound, and got back in the car.

  A few minutes later I sighed when I realized we still needed Dave to close the doors. I squeezed my eyes shut and pressed the speed dial.

  “Sorry, Aydan,” he said instead of hello. “I didn’t mean to make you mad.”

  “It’s okay, Dave. I know you were just looking out for me, but I really need you guys to work together. Lives are at stake. Can you come and close the doors now, please?”

  “’Kay. Be right there. Sorry.”

  “It’s okay.”

  A few moments later he appeared at the back doors, his expression contrite. I gave him what I hoped was a reassuring smile and drew a breath of relief when the latches clanked into place.

  When I slithered out of the car and sidled to the back, I met another contrite expression.

  “Sorry, Aydan.” Hellhound hung his head. “I shouldn’ta let him get to me. I was just worryin’ about…” He stopped. “Sorry. No excuse.”

  I slipped my arms around him and laid my head against his chest. “It’s okay. I’m worrying about him, too.” I straightened. “That’s why I have to do this. You stay here.”

  I ducked behind the tarp curtain and my stomach heaved.

  Chapter 45

  Still tethered to the wall of the trailer, Arlington jerked at the rustle of the plastic tarp. I registered his movement with half my attention, my gaze still frozen on Barnett’s unconscious form.

  His struggles had churned up the fetid contents of his tarp. The theatrical makeup was mixed with liberal splatters of his own excrement, leaving him looking like a half-rotted corpse. We hadn’t over-tightened the ropes when we tied him, but his frantic efforts to escape had ground them into his ankles and broken skin swelled around the bright yellow nylon. My stomach tried again to empty its contents at the thought of the bacteria crawling into that vulnerable flesh.

  Drawing a deep breath, I turned away. Only rope burns, and he was tranked. He wasn’t suffering at the moment, and soon I’d get him to a hospital.

  Make it count.

  Kneeling beside Arlington, I pulled the duct tape off his eyes and mouth. He yelped, blinking away the involuntary tears caused by the loss of one eyebrow and a goodly portion of his weedy moustache.

  A moment later he focused on the scene across from him.

  “God!” He recoiled so violently the back of his head thudded against the wall of the trailer. “Jesus…” His eyes widened and he thrashed against his bonds, fighting to get farther away from me. “I told you I didn’t know! It’s not my fault, I told you I was just guessing-”

  I cut off his shrill protests. “Shut up. We found him at the butcher shop. And I’m not going to hurt you if you cooperate.”

  He sagged, panting, and his gaze skittered back to Barnett’s gruesome presence. “Christ. What…”

  “Shut up and listen.”

  Arlington clamped his lips together and stared up at me, trembling.

  The memory of the butcher shop made my voice hard and cold. “Parr is finished. I’m the new game in town and if you’re smart, you’ll switch sides. I have Parr’s weapon prototype, and I have some new weapons, too. One of them does that.” I nodded at Barnett. “It causes excruciating pain without leaving a mark on the skin initially. Then everything it touched dies slowly, rots and falls off. You can see the start of it there.” I pointed at a particularly unattractive combination of makeup and shit on Barnett’s leg.

  Arlington darted a fearful glance at it before returning his undivided attention to me.

  “I’ll give you the same deal as I offered Barnett,” I continued. “You can stay loyal to Parr and suffer the consequences, or you can help me collect Parr’s people and ultimately take down Parr. I’ve got a friend who’s a cop. If you help me, I’ll turn you over to him and you’ll get to go through the justice system into a nice comfortable jail cell. Maybe even get a break on your sentence. If you don’t, well…” I shrugged and cast a pointed look at Barnett. “He’ll survive, but they’ll probably have to amputate.”

  “H-how do I know you won’t just k-kill me?”

  “You don’t.” I flashed him a pointy-toothed grin. “But disposing of bodies is a pain in the ass, and I’d rather foster good relations with my law enforcement friends. I’m in this game for the long term. Anyway, death is better than that.” I jerked a thumb at Barnett. “And if you don’t help me, that’s what you’re going to get.”

  “I’ll help.” The words were out of his mouth almost before I finished speaking. “What do you want?”

  “Names, positions in the organization, addresses, and evidence. And I want you to lure each of them to a meeting. As soon as I have them all, you’ll be safe. If you steer me wrong, you’ll be screaming.” I glared at him. “Start now.”

  It was a lengthy recitation, and I was glad of Hellhound’s listening ears and infallible memory on the other side of the curtain.

  When Arlington ran
down at last, I eyed him in silence for a moment before speaking. “Okay. You’re going to call the first guy and set up a meeting. You’re going to say you need to meet right away and you’re going to be very convincing, because if he doesn’t show up you’re going to end up like Barnett. Then I’m going to go and collect your guy, and you’re going to keep nice and quiet while you wait.”

  I gestured at the inside of the trailer. “You’ve probably already figured out you’re on the highway. Nobody can hear you banging or yelling, so don’t bother. And even if you do manage to get loose, you won’t survive jumping out at highway speed. So if you’re not sitting here tied up nice and quiet when I get back with the next body, I’m going to be Very Pissed Off. And Very Pissed Off is not a nice look for me. Got it?”

  He nodded, wide-eyed.

  “Good. Start thinking about what you’re going to say. Hold still.” I tore off another strip of duct tape and plastered it over his eyes, managing to avoid most of his remaining eyebrow.

  Slipping around the tarp curtain, I wobbled over to where Hellhound leaned against my car. He tucked an arm around me and bent to whisper. “Coupla those names matched the ones Barnett gave us, so that’s prob’ly a good sign.”

  “Good.” I leaned closer, drawing strength from his warm bulk. “Are you ready to do this?”

  “Hell, yeah.”

  I eased out a breath and called Dave.

  Hours later, we were tethering our latest catch to the inside of the trailer when my waist pouch vibrated. Punch-drunk with pain and fatigue, I didn’t register the meaning of the two-word text message at first.

  ‘Call home’.

  Then my heart kicked my aching chest and a wave of adrenaline made me light-headed. Hellhound finished taping our captive’s eyes and mouth and glanced up, colour draining from his face at the sight of my expression.

  “What…” he began.

  “I don’t know.” I showed him the text and we hurried around our tarp curtain to get as far away from our human cargo as possible.

  Clutching Hellhound’s hand, I drew a deep breath and punched the speed dial on my last secured phone.