I shuddered and wrapped my arms around my body, trying to look pitiful. Tricky when I was as tall as the guard himself.
“It’s okay,” he soothed. “You’re safe now.”
I shrank into the seat and made myself as small as possible. At the house, I turned to him imploringly. “May I use the powder room again, please? I need to wash.” I gave him the big brown eyes and let my voice quaver a bit, and he ushered me solicitously to the door.
“Take as long as you need,” he said gently.
Perfect. I closed myself into the room and sat immediately on the toilet. In an instant, I was inside the network.
I shot into the operating system and checked the sync routine. Still dead. Thank God. I flew back to the sim rooms.
I slowed as I approached, afraid to look inside. I took a deep breath and prepared myself as best I could. Relief washed over me at the sight of the burly, tattooed figure still seated in the chair.
Fear rushed in to take its place when I drifted through the wall and saw the blood spattered on the floor. His back was to me, and I darted frantically overhead to see his face.
My stomach tried to turn inside out, and I clamped an invisible hand over my mouth. Hellhound sat tied to the chair, motionless, staring straight ahead. Other than a shallow gash on his forehead, he was completely uninjured.
Except for his hands.
My guts wrenched again, and I gulped back bile. I could only imagine the horror of a musician threatened with the loss of his hands. The other torturers had been callously brutal, but this focused destruction was the work of the same sadistic and merciless monster who’d tortured the blond man. One who had taken the time to discover his victim’s most devastating fear.
The sight of Arnie’s broken, mangled fingers burned into my brain. The ends of the severed tendons protruded obscenely from their surgically precise incisions. Those hands would never play the guitar again. Nor even perform the simplest task. I swallowed hard once more, barely able to deal with the desecration.
Thank God, thank God, it was only a sim. So far.
I drifted silently behind him and threw my voice close to his ear, barely whispering. “Arnie, don’t respond. It’s Aydan. This isn’t real. Your hands aren’t hurt in real life. It’s not real, I promise.”
His body jerked, but his knotted shoulders eased a fraction, and I knew he’d heard and understood.
I had to relieve his obvious agony, but I couldn’t think how. I wanted to touch him, but that would reveal more about the sim than I dared.
I whispered again. “I’m going to take away your pain now. In five seconds, it will go away. You’ll still look injured, but it won’t hurt. Don’t say anything.”
“Five, four, three, two, one,” I counted softly. He made a harsh sound as his shoulders slumped. Then he straightened into silent immobility again.
“We’re going to get you out. Just try…” I gulped. “Just try to hang on. It’s not real. It’s not real, I promise. I have to go. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
I seeped through the wall again and stepped carefully through the portal.
I fell to my knees in front of the toilet, sobbing and vomiting. Spasms racked my body while I clutched the toilet seat. My stomach heaved again and again until there was nothing left inside me.
The door rattled under a barrage of knocks, and the young guard’s urgent voice shouted, “Ma’am, are you okay? Ma’am?”
“I’m okay.” My voice felt like broken glass in my throat. I swallowed another dry heave. “Just sick to my stomach. I’ll be okay in a minute.”
“Do you want me to come in?”
“No. Thanks.” I slumped to the floor, still embracing the toilet bowl. I forced myself into yoga belly breathing. In. Out. Slow and steady.
Desperate compulsion drove me to my feet. I lurched to the sink and regarded my bone-white face. My tears had tracked through the smears of Kane’s blood, and the effect was unflattering to say the least. Jesus, pull it together. No time to be a wimp.
Another knock sounded at the door. “Ma’am, the police are here. A female officer is coming in.”
The lock sprang, and a uniformed woman stepped through the door. She took one look at me clinging to the sink, and stepped hurriedly to my side.
“Sit.” She guided me firmly back and sat me on the toilet, pushing my head down between my knees.
“Just breathe.” She rubbed my back slowly and soothingly. “It’s all right. You’re safe now.”
I couldn’t suppress the despairing laugh that came out sounding like a sob. If only.
No time for that.
I pushed myself up with my hands on my knees. “The man from the parking lot. Is he…”
“We have him in custody,” she assured me.
“Thank God.” I slumped in relief. Kane was safe. One to go.
“I promise he won’t hurt you again,” she said. “Can you tell me what happened?”
“Could you please close the door?” I asked.
“Of course.” She got up and swung the door shut.
I sighed. This was going to get complicated. And I didn’t have time to spare.
I straightened up and looked her in the eye. “I need to tell you something in strictest confidence.”
“You can tell me anything at all,” she soothed.
“The man from the parking lot. His name is John Kane. He’s an undercover police officer. He spoke with some of your officers yesterday. He’s my partner. It’s essential that everyone here thinks that he attacked me.”
Her face hardened with suspicion. Shit, I knew this was going to get complicated.
“Please go and talk to him. He can give you more information, and refer you up his chain of command if necessary,” I pleaded.
“You’re serious?” she demanded.
“Deadly serious. We are in the middle of a time-critical operation. I need you to pretend to arrest him and take him away. He’ll be able to take over our operation externally. I need to stay here. Talk to him. Please!” I gazed at her imploringly.
“But…” She studied me. “You’re in no shape…”
“Please! Hurry! Don’t let anyone hear you talking to him,” I begged.
“This is the weirdest… Okay,” she said. “You stay here until I get back. And I mean that. I will charge you with resisting arrest if you don’t.”
“Okay. Thank you. Hurry!” I urged.
She stepped reluctantly out the door and closed it behind her.
Unable to sit still, I went to the sink and washed my face. Then I sat down on the toilet again and vibrated with nerves. My mind raced, turning over panicky ideas. Time was slipping away. As I looked at my watch for the umpteenth time, an appalling thought drove through my brain.
What if they had tortured the secret of the watch out of Hellhound?
I snatched it off and began to root through the contents of my waist pouch.
Several minutes later, there was a tap at the door. “Ma’am, may I come in?” A female voice. Finally.
“Yes.”
The female police officer slipped through the door and closed it again behind her. She frowned down at me. “We’ve verified your story. I passed your message on to your partner. He says you need to come with us, too. He was adamant.”
“He’s missing a critical piece of information. I have to stay here. And I need him on the outside.” I rummaged in my waist pouch and extracted a pen and a scrap of paper. “Please tell him I’m staying, no negotiation. And get him out of here immediately. Cuff him and drag him out if necessary. And please give him this.”
I scribbled on the paper. ‘Op blown. Hellhound captured. Go to Plan B. Bring Spider ASAP.’
I knew they wouldn’t implement Plan B just to retrieve Arnie. But they’d sure as hell implement it if I was still in here with the network key.
Chapter 41
I glanced blindly at my watch again, wondering how long it would take for the reinforcements to show up. The pol
icewoman had left, presumably taking Kane with her. He should be safely off the premises by now.
I ducked compulsively into the network again, checking the dead sync routine. I breathed a sigh of relief when I found it just the way I’d left it. A quick check into the sims revealed that Hellhound was still alone, and I resisted the impulse to go to him again. I couldn’t help him any more than I had already, and I didn’t dare spend any additional time in the network without knowing what was happening to my physical body.
Back through the portal. I thrashed as silently as possible on the bathroom floor. I’d taken the precaution of lying down this time, and at least I didn’t throw up again.
I staggered to my feet and dabbed the involuntary tears from my eyes. I needed to find out where Arnie was being held. I ran my brush through my hair and stepped out into the hallway.
Maria was waiting outside along with the young guard. Her expression crumbled into sympathy when she saw me. “You poor thing!” she exclaimed. “What a horrible experience. Would you like to lie down in the guest house for a while?”
I was surprised she was being cordial after catching me with her husband, but clearly I’d misjudged her. And the guest house was exactly where I wanted to be. That was where Kane had been held. Maybe Hellhound was there, too.
“Thank you,” I quavered. “That would be wonderful.”
Maria and the young guard ushered me slowly down to the guest house. “She just needs to lie down for a while,” Maria assured the doorman. He nodded and held the door, concern written on his face.
They guided me into one of the guest rooms, and I recognized the man I’d seen in the security sim as he stood outside one of the other rooms. That had to be where Hellhound was. It was the only guarded room.
Inside the luxurious chamber, Maria dismissed the young guard. “Go ahead and lie down,” she encouraged kindly.
I lowered myself to the bed, and she smoothed my hair away from my face and spread a blanket over me. I closed my eyes, feigning exhaustion and watching through the crack in my lashes.
“Just rest,” she whispered as she vanished.
Vanished?
Oh, shit!
I slipped my hand under the pillow, concentrating on making it insubstantial. My hand slipped through the bed like mist.
She’d put me into a sim.
Heart hammering, I created a construct of myself to occupy the bed and whisked invisibly through the wall of the sim. I stepped out the portal and back into my physical body, bracing for the pain.
It didn’t come.
I breathed a slow sigh when I realized she must have attached one of the re-engineered fobs to me when she brushed my hair back. Nice to avoid the pain.
Sudden adrenaline jolted through me when I realized I’d just made two deadly errors.
One was trusting Maria. Obviously.
The other was leaving the sim. With nobody else present in the sim to maintain it with their expectations, my construct had vanished at the same time I left.
I peered frantically through my lashes and realized Maria had left the physical room. I leaped to my feet and peeked out the door in time to see her vanish into the guarded room across the hall. I flung myself back onto the bed, and back into the sim.
Please God, don’t let them notice I’d been gone.
Maria tapped on the simulated door and came in. “Just before you rest, there’s something I need to show you,” she said as she took my arm and pulled me to my feet.
“Can’t I just rest for a minute?” I begged. “I’m exhausted.”
“Soon,” she promised as she towed me out into the hallway. When we approached the other guest room, I looked into the guard’s wooden face and brushed against him. I’d imagined my arm insubstantial, and as I’d expected, it went right through him.
A construct. Good.
I knew what I’d see when she opened the door, but the sight of Arnie’s maimed hands made me gag again anyway.
Maria remained expressionless.
“Oh, my God!” I choked. “What have you done to this poor man?” Hellhound’s eyes widened as his head snapped around.
“Don’t pretend you don’t know him,” Maria said. She pressed a button on the computer in the corner, and the screen lit up to show footage of Hellhound and me cuddled together at the side of the road. Maria’s lips twisted into a sardonic smile while she watched us fondling each other.
“Now,” she said as she pointed a small snub-nosed revolver at my head. “One of you is going to tell me what I want to know. Move.”
She herded me to a chair and I sat with a sense of inevitability while she bound my arms and legs to it. Hellhound hadn’t spoken, but his eyes were anguished as he watched.
Maria leaned casually on my shoulder. “Your lover here has been very unhelpful. He hasn’t said a single word.”
I shuddered at what it had cost him to remain silent, and she smiled again. “So I think I’ll kill two birds with one stone. So to speak. Since he’s so resistant to my persuasion, we’ll see how you do.” She turned a malevolent smile on Hellhound. “And he can watch.”
“No,” Hellhound croaked.
Her smile turned predatory. “He speaks,” she cooed. “How nice.” She stepped closer to him. “What would you like to tell me?”
Hellhound’s tense shoulders squared. “Let her go, and I’ll tell ya what ya wanna know. But ya harm one hair on her head, and I’ll never tell ya.”
“Oh, you’ll tell me anyway,” she said silkily.
“This ain’t my first dance, lady,” Hellhound rasped. “Let her go free, and ya get your information. Otherwise, nothin’. It’s the only deal you’re gonna get.”
Maria picked up a butterfly knife from the table and expertly one-handed it open in a blur of movement. She stepped around behind me, and I resisted the urge to twist around in my seat to keep her in sight.
She ran her fingers through my hair and pulled it back into a ponytail. “Not a hair on her head, you say?”
“Not if ya want what I know.”
A sudden movement behind me, and my head jerked. Maria held up the rope of my severed hair tauntingly between us. “Oops.” She flung the bundle of hair to the floor.
Hellhound’s shoulders turned to stone, his face shutting down except for the rippling muscles in his jaw. He stared straight ahead, and I shuddered again.
“She’s not so attractive now, is she?” Maria inquired. “She’s going to be a lot less attractive when I’m done. Is there anything you want to tell me?”
Enough was enough. I filled a construct in my place in the chair as I flitted invisibly up to the ceiling. I threw my voice down to Hellhound’s ear. “It’s not real,” I whispered. “Remember, it’s not real.”
The construct screamed as the knife began its work.
Time crept by while the construct that looked like me sobbed and begged hysterically between gut-wrenching screams. Blood slicked the floor and Maria’s hands.
Hellhound’s tormented eyes burned across the room while I whispered denial in his ear. He hadn’t moved or spoken. His rigid muscles vibrated finely, steel cables stretched past their limit.
Finally, Maria snapped the knife shut and glared at Hellhound. “You’re a heartless bastard. Fine. Maybe you think this isn’t real. Here’s another option.”
She drew her revolver and pointed it at the construct’s hanging head. “If I kill her here, she’ll die in real life. An unexplained heart attack. So sad.” She cocked the hammer. “Say goodbye.”
Hellhound’s impassive expression changed to horror, and I knew he’d suddenly made the connection with the earlier captives’ heart attacks. My mind raced furiously. If she killed me in the sim, she’d expect me to be dead in real life. When she went to retrieve my body, she’d find me alive. Maybe I could overpower her?
“No!” Hellhound’s hoarse voice interrupted my thoughts. He gazed at the mutilated construct. “It ain’t worth it, darlin’,” he grated. “I’m sorry.”
“Arnie, don’t!” The construct and I spoke simultaneously, one in his ear and the other across the room.
“It’s in her watch,” he said roughly. “Don’t kill her.”
“Thank you.” Maria smiled. And pulled the trigger.
“NO!” Hellhound’s raw-throated bellow almost drowned out the sound of the shot. The construct’s ravaged body went limp. I sprang for the portal.
I popped into my body painlessly and muttered a three-word prayer as I fumbled the watch off my wrist. Maria had to leave the network, exit Hellhound’s room, and walk across to mine. I had seconds to spare.
I yanked the watch free and pried off the backing as footsteps sounded in the hallway. I had barely enough time to drop the eviscerated watch beside me on the bed and resume my position. Maria came briskly into the room while I held my breath and watched through my lashes.
She froze at the sight of the open wristwatch. “Goddammit!” She wheeled and dashed out of the room. I heard her shout in the hallway. “Someone’s here! Search everything! Go, go!”
I heard running feet, followed by silence.
I rolled off the bed and peeked shakily out the door. The hallway was abandoned, and I dashed across the open space into Hellhound’s room. I locked the door from the inside and shoved a dresser in front of it. Where the hell was Plan B? What if they weren’t coming?
I shook myself. It didn’t matter. One way or another, we had to get out. Our cover was completely destroyed.
I approached Hellhound’s chair carefully. I didn’t quite know how to handle this. I knew firsthand how difficult it was to deal with the disorientation in the first few minutes after leaving such a horrible sim. Worse still, he didn’t even know it was a sim. And I couldn’t explain.
I braced myself and pulled the tiny electronic device off the back of his neck. His eyes snapped open, unfocused. He glanced at me, and then turned to stare straight ahead again. I took his face in my hands and looked into his haunted eyes.
“Arnie,” I said softly. “It’s over. This is real. It’s okay.”
He didn’t respond, and I stroked his face and kissed him. “This is real. I need you to wake up and be with me now. We’re not safe yet. We need to get away.”
The Spy Is Cast Page 28
