Alfonso answered on the third ring. “Hello?” His usual smooth voice was raspy and mumbled, and Jayne could hear the sound of fabric shifting.
“Shit, did I wake you?”
Alfonso cleared his throat. “Holy shit. Jayne?”
“Sorry for calling so late. I was just…we never got to say goodbye and then I got to thinking about Francois and…I don’t know. I wanted to talk to a friend.” Jayne crawled across her bed to the corner and leaned against the wall, her knees curled to her chest.
“I’m glad you called. After everything that happened, I was worried.”
Her lips twitched into a sad smile. “Don’t worry about me, Alfonso. You know I always land on my feet.”
There was silence on the other end for a moment, followed by his sigh. “I tried talking to the dean. Everyone knows you getting expelled was complete bullshit. He wouldn’t hear any of it, though. Where are you?”
“School.” Jayne laughed bitterly. “I’m at a university. I signed up to major in—fuck, I don’t even remember. Alfonso, I’m walking around here like everything is fine, but I’m so fucking angry. Dean Geiger threw away the life I’d worked so hard for. And for what? A thumbs-up from the blue bloods? I could kill him, Alfy. I’m not even joking.”
“Jayne, don’t speak like that. These lines aren’t secure.”
She grunted in irritation but dropped the subject. “What’s going on with Francois? Have they figured out why he was there?”
“Uh, well, here’s the thing, Jayne. Francois isn’t here anymore. He was exchanged for one of our spies.”
Incredulous, Jayne popped to her knees, breaking out of her comfy little ball position. “They let him go?” She moaned and threw a pillow across the room.
“Sorry, Jayne. It’s the way these things work. You know that. As for what they got out of him, I really don’t know. The rumors say he was supposed to become a deep sleeper. Stay in the organization for years and rise to the top and leak our biggest secrets. A lot of people here are happy that you…got involved with him and identified him.”
The sounds of drunken students stumbling over their last hurrahs before the semester filtered through the door. Their laughter was pure and carefree. Good for them. Everyone deserves to be happy. Jayne flopped onto her bed, her limbs spread wide except for the hand holding the phone to her ear.
“Alfonso, I miss him. I miss you. I miss everything.” She sniffled and wiped her eyes. She wouldn’t cry, though. Not her.
“I miss you too. A lot of us do. But Jayne, you have a new opportunity there. You’ve got freedom, something none of us have here. Make the most of it. You already have the skills and the training. In a lot of ways, you’re in a much better position than the rest of us.”
Like a good friend, he tried to cheer her up. He wasn’t wrong either, but it wasn’t what Jayne wanted to hear. Still, she was a spy, and spies lied. It was time to implement that skill. “Thanks, Alfy. You’re right. Look, I gotta get going. My roommate will be here any moment. But thanks for talking. Really.”
They said their goodbyes and promised to keep in touch. As soon as they hung up, Jayne dropped her phone and stared at the dark ceiling above her. Her fucking life. Stolen. And she was supposed to simply go along with it? No fucking way. Not her. There were some things you didn’t tolerate.
She didn’t know how just yet and she was too drunk to think deeply about it, but one way or another, she would show that sanctimonious asshole dean what a fucked-up, regrettable decision he’d made.
She’d make him pay.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Armaros, Theron Techcropolis, Tesla University of Technical Arts, Block F, Student Residential Hall, Jayne’s Quarters
Tek was a popular drink for many reasons, the primary one being the simple fact that getting drunk on it didn’t result in hangovers. It was the result of nearly a millennia of research, fine-tuning, and millions in government funding. When Jayne woke the next afternoon splayed out on her bed in her rumpled clothes from the night before with a blanket draped over her and a pillow tucked under her head, she felt refreshed and ready to face the day.
She pushed herself up, blinked away the tiredness, and found her bearings. The other bed was perfectly made as if by a hotel maid or a soldier expecting inspection. Jayne had a brief flash of memory of chucking a pillow across the room onto Jess’s bed. Looking behind her, she saw that the pillow she had slept on was the same one she’d thrown. Her roommate must have come home at some point and tucked it under her head. She probably threw the blanket over her as well. Maybe having her there wouldn’t be all bad.
“Jess?” Jayne’s voice carried through the room. No response. She must have come and gone. Jayne stood and slipped out of her dirty clothes. She was just about to step into the bathroom for a shower when she saw her phone on her bed, the green notification light flashing.
Shit. A blurry memory of a drunk call sprang to mind. Please don’t be to an ex. She snatched her phone and looked at the call history.
Alfonso.
That wasn’t so bad. They’d both been drunken fools together many times at the academy. There was even that one night where they almost…
Jayne’s train of thought shattered as her phone vibrated and an emergency alert popped up.
SECOND BOMB FOUND AT UNIVERSITY POLICE STATION.
EVACUATION IN PROGRESS.
STAY OUTSIDE THE CORDONED-OFF RADIUS.
A bomb? Here?
And if it’s the second bomb…where was the first?
A quick search on her phone revealed that the first bomb was placed in the school’s administration building, which had also been evacuated. Neither device had gone off yet and both were in the process of being deactivated.
Police warned people to keep their distance, though. Each of the explosives was in a tamper-proof case and there was a chance that the deactivation attempts could trigger them.
It sounded like the police were in over their heads.
Depending on what type of bombs they were, she might be able to deactivate them. But that would risk blowing her cover and possibly herself as well.
Not exactly the kind of thing she wanted to wake up to or have to deal with.
Jayne sighed and scanned the comments on social media quickly to see what people were saying. It was mostly freak-outs and conspiracy theories. The most prevalent was that their main rival, Eltstodt University, tried to sabotage their school in order to surpass them in prestige. A couple of people championed a less popular theory that the bombers were students who were angry over last fall’s dismissal of some of the more popular and controversial professors.
There was even one troll, B0mbStr1ke, who claimed to be the bomber. He said he was doing it as a work of performance art. Get over yourself, dude she thought.
Jayne turned her screen off with a tap of her finger and resigned herself to what had to be done. She looked at her only two outfits, which both laid in crumpled piles on the floor. The clothes from last night were simply too filthy to wear. Plus, her vain side didn’t want to be seen in the same thing two days in a row. Her only other outfit was the skintight gray jumpsuit she’d worn when she left the counter intelligence academy.
She sniffed it and recoiled. It also needed laundering.
A frantic knock on the door interrupted her thoughts on her clothing dilemma.
“One second,” she said.
Feeling like she had little choice in the matter, she yanked the top drawer of her roommate’s dresser open and found a pair of black panties.
“Really need to get my own stuff,” she muttered as she slipped quickly into the lace underwear. Jayne pressed her chest tightly against the back of the door to avoid giving anyone a free show and opened it, peeking her head around to see who was there.
Fred looked nervous and fidgety. If she didn’t know him better, she might have thought he was trying to ask her out on a date.
She had told him not to think of her that way, but maybe she sho
uld never have taken him out for tacos. And picked up the tab, no less. Now, she’d have a puppy dog following her around all the time. That would only make things difficult for her.
Ugh.
“Jayne, I need to talk.” There was an intensity to his tone she hadn’t heard before. The poor fool really must have fallen hard for her. Too bad. She didn’t have time for this.
“Fred, look,” she began in a patient and polite tone. “I had fun at the taco place, but like I said, I’m not into—.”
“The bombings are my fault,” he practically shouted.
Jayne’s eyes widened.
She leaned farther out from behind the door to glance down either side of the hallway.
No one was around.
Thankfully.
Fred probably hadn’t royally fucked himself over. On the other hand, by leaning out like that, Jayne had exposed herself briefly, giving him a full view of her bare chest. Well, she was a spy. Part of her training was seduction and using her body as a weapon. It wasn’t like she was bashful. Plus, if he’d noticed, he didn’t seem to care. He was still staring at her face with a look of anxiety. It was almost insulting in a way.
“Come inside. Quickly. And don’t say shit like that in hallways. Or anywhere in public for that matter.”
She stepped inside and Fred bolted in after her.
“Tell me what happened,” she ordered. She sat on her bed and picked her gray jumpsuit up from the floor. It might be dirty but at least she wouldn’t wear the same thing two days in a row. Besides, this was definitely something that required her spy training so she might as well look the part.
Fred’s gaze flickered over her as he simultaneously took in her casual nudity and gathered his thoughts. Okay, now that’s more what I expected. He didn’t seem overly flustered by the sight of her stepping topless into her jumpsuit and pulling it up past her hips. After a short silence, he began his story. Maybe he wasn’t such a puppy after all.
“I have an illegal police scanner,” he admitted, piquing her interest as she slipped her arms into the jumpsuit’s sleeves. A police scanner could be very useful in her situation. “I heard the officers say the bombs are selvanium-based. That’s why they’re having such a hard time defusing them. It’s beyond their abilities. Jayne, the weapons I sold were selvanium-based. Any terrorist with access to the deep web can figure out how to switch out the cores and turn them into massive bombs. That’s half the reason why selvanium production was made illegal.”
Jayne zipped her jumpsuit as Fred continued.
“It can’t be a coincidence that I sold highly illegal and hard-to-obtain selvanium weapons to a group of angry former students and the next day, selvanium bombs are found throughout campus. If anyone dies, it’s my fault.”
He wasn’t entirely wrong about that, she acknowledged.
“You sold weapons that would be used in your own backyard? Are you an idiot? What the fuck were you thinking?” Making a few credits selling weapons was one thing. But selling weapons that would be used against people you knew in the place you lived? That was plain stupidity.
To her surprise, rather than rattling Fred, her condemnation angered him.
“I didn’t know they would use the weapons here. First rule of being an arms dealer: don’t ask questions. Obviously, if I did, I wouldn’t have sold them to Brandon. And that gets in the way of business.”
Jayne poked him in the chest with her finger. “Then you need to do better research on your clients before you sell to them.”
She took a breath. That wasn’t the issue now. The real concern was defusing the bombs.
“How many weapons did you sell him?”
Fred’s face scrunched in a mixture of guilt and concentration. “Four.”
Four? It would be hard to deactivate them all. Jayne paced from the back wall of her dorm room to where Fred stood near the entrance to the bathroom.
“Okay, so that’s potentially two more bombs unaccounted for,” she deduced. “We should probably tip the police anonymously to tell them that. Although, knowing them, they probably won’t be able to disarm those either.”
Neither could she, in all likelihood. She hadn’t been trained in working with selvanium before her expulsion. It required special technology. That much she did know.
Jayne stopped pacing and looked at Fred. “What about you? Can you disarm them?”
The look of uncertainty that crossed his face wasn’t promising. “Maybe. I know the underlying theory. But it isn’t something I’ve ever done. I’d need an optic whiteboard to work out the specifics.”
“Okay. That’s something we can work with. This is a university. Almost every lecture hall and research facility has one. We need to find one where we won’t be disturbed. I’m sure you’re aware that if we get caught working out bomb equations…well, they won’t think we’re innocent, that’s for sure.”
Fred pursed his lips and said, “I know a place.”
+++
Armaros, Theron Techcropolis, Tesla University of Technical Arts, Physics Building, Basement
The basement of the physics building had been turned into one massive storeroom that resembled a maze. In one area, dozens of desks were piled precariously. One nudge and the whole thing could come crashing down.
A row of filing cabinets lined the outer wall beside a bunch of boxes filled with out-of-date textbooks.
What a waste, Jayne thought. There was no reason to have books printed when you could carry every book ever written on your phone or optic pad. Sure, some people liked to have the physical copy in their hands, but Jayne always found that incredibly impractical. The filing cabinets she understood. Some records needed to be physical in case the digital files became corrupted by a virus or were wiped out by hackers. Generally, the practice of creating hard copies was for high-security information only.
Fred led them deeper into the basement. The only light came from small windows at the top of the walls.
“How’d you find this place?” Jayne asked as she stepped over a pile of books that had spilled out of their box.
He continued to maneuver through the clutter. “I’m always on the lookout for places like this. Dark, private, unused. They’re good for meeting clandestinely with people. And for drops.”
Jayne was impressed. This kid was former military, but he was craftier than most soldiers, trained into following orders and orders only. In some ways, he thought like an agent. Or a real criminal, in this case. He was right. This would be the perfect place for an illicit meeting…or a late-night hookup when you had a roommate to deal with.
“Who else knows about this place?” she asked.
Fred shrugged. “I suppose anyone in the physics department. And the janitors. Besides that, no one.” He paused and looked back at her. “Except for people I bring here, like you.”
Like her.
Or anyone he’d had dealings with.
“And the bombers?” Jayne asked.
Fred licked his lip and nodded. “And the bombers.”
A part of her tingled in alarm at this information, but her rational side quickly quieted her unease. The bombers would have no reason to be there or to return unless they decided to plant a bomb in the basement. But surely, if that was their plan—
The scuffling of feet followed by the distinct sound of a lighter sparking interrupted Jayne’s thoughts. She shared a look of alarm with Fred before their unexpected guest stepped out of the shadows.
He was a tall, slim man with handsome features. Pepper-gray hair glinted in the dull glow from his lighter before he flicked it shut. A five o’clock shadow smudged his otherwise smooth features above a collared shirt which hung slightly askew with the top button undone. His slacks trailed down to black polished shoes that tapped quietly on the floor as he ambled toward them.
He exhaled, and the distinct scent of smoke filled the air. The joint was a little wrinkled from a hasty fold, but it burned well. He looked out with bloodshot eyes, then flinched in su
rprise. He followed it up with a good-natured chuckle.
“Couple of quiet critters here. You startled me. For a second, I thought you were other professors. Then I’d have some explaining to do.” The chuckle became a wry laugh. He sighed and took another drag from the joint before resuming his approach. “Want some of this?” he offered. “It’s an indica-tamox blend. Nice smooth high.”
If Jayne wasn’t in the middle of a crisis she might have been tempted. But she had no time for that now.
She shook her head. “Maybe another time.”
The stoned professor turned unerringly to Fred. “You?”
Fred’s eyes widened and he shook his head vigorously. Once again, Jayne found herself reassessing him. It seemed he favored the straight and narrow after all, despite his criminal dealings.
The professor shrugged. “Suit yourself. My name’s Vlad—Professor Volstock, if you ever have one of my classes.” Vlad took another hit and motioned to the blunt. “This is the only way I can stand talking to everyone up there.” He pointed to the ceiling with his thumb. “Gotta have a mellow buzz going.”
A scowl formed on Fred’s face. “Maybe you shouldn’t be a professor if you don’t like talking to students.”
Jayne shot him a look. “Fred! Don’t be a dick.”
The professor laughed. “You’ve got me all wrong. It’s the other professors I can’t stand. A bunch of closed-minded morons, the lot of them. The students though, I love them. They’re the smartest ones on campus. And they might stay that way if we don’t beat the individualism out of them.”
Vlad squinted his eyes and looked at her. “Although they don’t usually come down here. What are you two doing wading through all this junk, anyway?”
“We’re—” Fred began but never finished.
Expelled (Interplanetary Spy for Hire Book 1) Page 7
