How Spy I Am

by Diane Henders

  How Spy I Am

  Book 5 of the NEVER SAY SPY series

  By Diane Henders

  Published August 2012 by PEBKAC Publishing

  Smashwords Edition v.5

  ISBN 978-0-9878712-7-5

  The town of Silverside and all secret technologies are products of my imagination. If I’m abducted by grim-faced men wearing dark glasses, or if I die in an unexplained fiery car crash, you’ll know I accidentally came a little too close to the truth.

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are products of my imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  Please respect my hard work by complying with copyright laws. This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. You may not resell this e-book under any circumstances.

  Thank you for reading!

  Copyright © 2012 Diane Henders

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form.

  Books in the NEVER SAY SPY series:

  Book 1: Never Say Spy

  Book 2: The Spy Is Cast

  Book 3: Reach For The Spy

  Book 4: Tell Me No Spies

  Book 5: How Spy I Am

  Book 6: A Spy For A Spy

  Book 7: Spy, Spy Away

  Book 8: Spy Now, Pay Later

  Book 9: Spy High

  Book 10: Spy Away Home

  More books coming! For a current list, please visit www.dianehenders.com

  Or sign up for my New Book Notification list at

  www.dianehenders.com/books

  For Phill

  Thank you for being my technical advisor and the most tolerant husband ever. Much love!

  To my beta readers/editors, especially Carol H., Judy B., and Phill B., with gratitude: Many thanks for all your time and effort in catching my spelling and grammar errors, telling me when I screwed up the plot or the characters’ motivations, and generally keeping me honest.

  To Rick and Sandy H. at Hand Crafted Images: Your talent makes my covers extra-special, and your sense of humour makes photo sessions fun even for a camera-hater like me. Thank you!

  To Steve A. and the staff at The Shooting Edge: Thank you for lending us your excellent facilities for our cover photo sessions. You guys rock!

  To everyone else, respectfully:

  If you find any typographical errors in this book, please send an email to errors@dianehenders.com. Mistakes drive me nuts, and I’m sorry if any slipped through. Please let me know what the error is, and on which page (or at which position in e-versions). I’ll make sure it gets fixed as soon as possible. Thanks!

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  A Request

  About Me

  Since You Asked

  Chapter 1

  “We need to do damage control.”

  I suppressed an exhausted yawn along with my urge to say, ‘No shit, Sherlock’, and eyed the civilian director of clandestine operations with distaste.

  Charles Stemp returned his usual impassive stare from across the table, and I let my gaze slide off his reptilian features to the much more rewarding sight of John Kane beside him.

  Stemp’s flat voice continued, “Fuzzy Bunny came too close to capturing you this week. That would have been disastrous to our national security, not to mention to you personally.”

  “Wouldn’t have been much worse than being captured by you,” I snapped before I could stop myself.

  Stemp met my eyes levelly. “We needed you to believe you were in enemy hands. And I don’t need to remind you that Fuzzy Bunny will not stop at a small burn to force your cooperation if they capture you.”

  I swallowed the sudden dryness in my throat and willed myself not to hug my bandaged arm. Hell, no, he didn’t need to remind me. The only thing cuddly about Fuzzy Bunny was their name.

  God, what if they were hunting me again? My gaze flicked toward the doorway despite the knowledge that we were in a secured building.

  Jeez, woman, relax.

  I drew a deep breath and attempted to follow my own advice. I was safe. Kane was probably Canada’s most lethal weapon, and after our conversation yesterday, I was pretty sure he’d protect me with his life. My mind sidled away from the memory of his lips framing the words ‘I love you’. I’d spent half the night worrying about that.

  Deal with it later.

  Stemp’s voice dragged my tired brain back from its rambling. “We need to convince them you are dead. And Kane informs me your cover here in Silverside is not as,” he hesitated. “…Robust,” he said finally, “…as we would prefer.”

  I met Kane’s steady grey eyes, wondering exactly what he’d reported. My gaze strayed lower without my permission to admire the massive chest and bulging biceps straining his black T-shirt. Lethal and unbelievably hot, goddammit…

  “Aydan?”

  “Ms. Kelly?”

  Kane and Stemp both spoke my name, and I herded my mind back to the meeting table yet again. “Sorry, what?” I asked, massaging the ache in my forehead.

  “Do you have any ideas to contribute regarding your cover identity?” Stemp repeated.

  I forced myself to appreciate his attempt to include me in the process. “Not at the moment, I’m sorry.” I didn’t bother to add, ‘I’ve been a little busy trying to stay alive lately’.

  “It’s all right,” Kane said. “We can work on it today.”

  I shot him a grateful look.

  Stemp rose. “Very well. Have a proposal ready by end of day.” He fixed me with his expressionless gaze. “Please check the network first thing for any chatter regarding yourself. Our analysts haven’t picked anything up from the public channels, so you’ll need to breach Fuzzy Bunny’s firewalls and check their systems directly.”

  He strode out, and I sighed and sank my forehead onto the table, cushioned by my crossed forearms. I grunted and quickly repositioned my arms at the jab of pain.

  “Are you all right?” Kane’s velvet baritone was quick with concern.

  “Fine. I just bumped that burn,” I mumbled into the table. I hadn’t even heard him stand, and his touch startled me. “It’s fine,” I repeated, but he was already lifting the dressing away from my arm, his powerful hands deft and gentle.

  We both contemplated the angry-looking wound. “I thought Stemp said it was just a small second-d
egree burn,” Kane growled.

  I shrugged and retrieved the bandage from him, smoothing it back down onto my skin. “Richardson panicked. I guess he held the torch on me a little longer than he meant to. It’ll be fine.”

  “Aydan, I’m so sorry you had to go through that. I know it doesn’t make it any less traumatic to know it was faked.” His face darkened. “Except for that burn.”

  “You’ve got nothing to apologize for.” I stood and drifted toward the door. “Stemp, on the other hand, owes me a buttload of apologies, which I’m highly unlikely to get. Let’s go.”

  Slouched on the small sofa in my office a few minutes later, I scowled at the tiny piece of circuitry in my hand. Why the hell did it only work for me? And why the hell hadn’t its unknown inventors created something that wouldn’t drive flaming spikes through my brain every time I used it?

  I drew a shallow breath through my mouth.

  “Are you okay?” Clyde Webb’s voice made me concentrate on putting a more pleasant expression on my face. It wasn’t difficult when I looked up to see the concern on his youthful face.

  “Fine, Spider, thanks.” I flicked my gaze in John Smith’s direction, and Spider’s expression cleared in comprehension.

  I had hoped to work with Kane and Spider as usual today, but apparently Smith had orders to attend as well. I took another shallow breath, trying not to inhale his stench. Somebody really should tell him to change his shirt more than once a month. You’d think he’d get the hint when its pattern of food stains started to resemble a particularly creative Jackson Pollock canvas.

  I shook off my mood with a sigh and waited for Kane to pull up a chair before eyeing my team. “Everybody ready?”

  Spider nodded, his fingers already flying over his laptop keyboard. Smith concentrated on the desktop computer, and Kane gave me a nod and a smile, fingering the fob that would give him painless access to the brainwave-driven simulation network.

  Painless. Huh. I wish.

  I banished my self-pity with another sigh and gripped the network key, concentrating on stepping into the white void of virtual reality. A second later, Kane’s avatar popped into existence beside me.

  The network was a busy place. Kane stepped protectively in front of me when a couple of researchers’ avatars approached in the virtual corridor. They exchanged wary glances and gave us a wide berth.

  I patted Kane’s hard shoulder. “Don’t scare the locals. I’m pretty sure we’re safe here.”

  “I’m not taking any chances,” he rumbled.

  I smiled up at him. “Thanks.”

  His strong square face softened into an answering smile, activating the sexy laugh lines around his eyes, and we made our way to the virtual file repository in comfortable silence.

  Inside, I surveyed the towering stack of virtual files with dismay. “Shit, they really piled up.”

  Guilt prodded me. If I hadn’t run off last week…

  I tamped it down. Too late to be sorry, just fix the problem. “Have the analysts flagged anything in particular?” I asked.

  “Nothing that’s a higher priority than hiding your identity,” Kane said. “You need to check Fuzzy Bunny’s network first. You can worry about these other files later.”

  “Okay. This will probably take a while.” I created a virtual chair in the sim and sank into it, and Kane pulled one out of thin air beside me, reaching toward me as he sat.

  I took his extended hand and gave it a little squeeze. “Thanks for being my anchor.” I glimpsed his smile one more time as I faded into invisibility to seep into the data stream, feeling my consciousness stretch from his grip like a rubber band.

  Hitching a ride on data packets, I shot through a roller-coaster of connections, following the delicate tracery of markers I’d left behind in my earlier surveillance. When I reached Fuzzy Bunny’s first firewall, I paused for a deep virtual breath before trickling through the pinhole I’d left open in my previous visit. Their intrusion-detection software passed harmlessly over me, and I continued my stealthy progress, nosing around invisibly in their file system.

  If I’d had a stomach in my current form, it would have clenched at what I discovered. I willed calm. Search it all out.

  I sifted their data with the finest filter I could create before moving on to the next server. And the next.

  And the next.

  By the time my exhausted consciousness oozed back into the file repository, it was all I could do to recreate my avatar. When I faded into wavering existence, Kane reached carefully for my shoulders.

  “Stay with me now,” he encouraged. “Come on, let’s get you out of here.”

  “Okay…” I whispered, concentrating fiercely.

  He gathered me up and guided me to the exit portal, the warm strength of his arm holding my virtual form together.

  My momentary relief at getting to the portal was erased by the familiar explosion of pain when I returned my consciousness to my physical body.

  “Aaah-God-dammit-sonuva-fucking-bitch!” I spat, clutching my temples.

  Kane’s hands gently pushed mine away to close around my head, and I whimpered gratitude while his massage eased the worst of the pain.

  At last, I slumped back on the sofa. “Thanks,” I mumbled.

  Kane stooped to look into my face as I sprawled limply. “Are you all right?”

  “Fine. Thanks. It just hurts more when I’m tired.” I wedged myself into a corner of the couch in an approximately upright position. “God. Shit.” I ran a hand over my still-aching face.

  “What?” Kane demanded. “What did you find?”

  I blew out a long sigh. “Lots of chatter about me, unfortunately. They’re not positive I’m alive, but they’re sure as hell stirred up about finding me if I am.”

  He eyed me, looking concerned. “You’re shaking. Do you need to eat?”

  “Yeah.” I consulted my watch. “I know it’s only ten o’clock, but if I can’t have sleep, I have to have food.”

  I hauled myself up off the couch and made for the lunchroom before I had to explain I’d spent most of the previous night jerking awake from screaming nightmares of captivity and torture.

  After wolfing down a cereal bar, I sank onto the sofa with a sigh and stepped back into the network. Seated again in the network’s virtual file room, I reached for Kane’s hand. “Okay, brace yourself for a couple more exciting hours of sitting around.”

  Kane gave my hand a sympathetic squeeze. “I know how tedious this seems, but it’s important. This kind of clandestine work is usually 99% boredom and 1% sheer panic.”

  “I know, it’s just that we never seem to get anywhere. Every day it’s more meaningless file decryptions and more sneaking around in networks to cover my ass.”

  Kane chuckled. “You’re our most valuable asset. It’s definitely worth the effort to cover your ass.”

  I sighed. “I just wish I wasn’t the only person who could use this stupid key. You need a trained agent, not a dumb civilian bookkeeper.”

  “Aydan, you’re doing amazing work. Nobody could do better.” He eyed me seriously. “And those decryptions aren’t meaningless. We’ve managed to cripple some very nasty operations in the past couple of months, thanks to your work.”

  I gave him a smile, feeling a little better. “Our work.”

  He returned the smile, and I faded invisibly into the data stream.

  My surveillance finally complete, I eased out of the last of Fuzzy Bunny’s servers a couple of hours later and slid into the public data stream. I was just turning for home when a wave of dizziness shook me.

  I tumbled in a riptide of data, my essence shredding and scrambling despite my frenzied attempts to hold it together. I knew my consciousness could neither speak nor breathe, but panic seized me when my screams strangled in my non-existent throat. Trapped in silent invisibility, my bodiless struggle churned the surrounding data stream into chaos.

  Kane! Where was my anchor?

  A few frantic seconds late
r, I identified the faint sensation of his distant grip. I concentrated all my will into a desperate surge, snapping back into my avatar with such force I tumbled off my virtual chair, dragging Kane onto the floor with me.

  I lay gasping and shivering, both hands clenched around his. He jerked to his knees beside me, his gun already in his free hand.

  “What?” he snapped, his gaze scouring the void around us.

  “Out,” I begged, my voice a thin quaver of pure terror. “Get me out!”

  He didn’t waste time on speech or subtlety. Seconds later, I was jouncing over his shoulders in a fireman’s carry while he ran flat-out for the portal.

  Spider’s frantic voice sliced through the sim. “Slow down! She can’t go through the portal fast!”

  Kane skidded to a halt in front of it and dropped my feet to the ground, holding me up when my knees tried to collapse. I stepped slowly out of the network.

  “Aaaah! Golly jeepers whiz, son of a sea monkey! That hurts!” I clenched my hands around the stabbing agony in my real-world temples and doubled over. “Holy fudge! What was that?”

  Silence greeted my outburst and I straightened slowly, squinting through the pain. Spider, Smith, and Kane were all eyeing me, frowning.

  I felt slow heat spreading up my cheeks. “Please excuse my language. I just have an awful pain in my head. Does anyone have some ibuprofen?”

  Spider shot a worried glance at Kane. “You always carry it in your waist pouch. But you said nothing touches the pain.”

  “Oh.” I frowned down at my waist pouch. “Right…” I shook away the muzzy confusion, reaching for normalcy through my pounding headache. A glance at my watch made me leap to my feet.

  “Crumbs, I’m going to be late to pick Cassandra up from daycare. Where’s my purse?” I peered around the room, but didn’t see the purse I knew I’d grabbed on the way out of the house this morning.