Expelled (Interplanetary Spy for Hire Book 1)

by Ell Leigh Clarke

  Merry was in her usual spot, sitting on the sofa zoned into her laptop.

  “Okay,” Jayne announced, “what’s more important than me getting out of these shoes?”

  Merry barely glanced up from the screen as she pointed to a pair of ballet flats by Jayne’s desk. “Put those on. You’re welcome. And I’ve been asking around about our blackmailer friend.”

  Jayne shuffled over to her desk, sat down and slipped out of her shoes. Her bare feet dropped to the floor like two canned hams and she flopped back into her chair like a relaxed starfish. She sighed, exhausted. “Was anyone willing to drop a tenth credit on him?”

  Merry’s eyes followed a conversation thread on her screen. She squinted. “Nothing specific—yet—but a couple of my people have some insight.”

  Jayne got up to wash her face. “A couple of your people? How many folks do you have on this?”

  Merry shrugged. “The whole hacker community, really. I let slip that this individual likes delving into people’s secrets and blackmailing them. You’d be amazed how many anonymous friends get up in arms about shit like that.” A small smile spread over her lips. She kept reading.

  Jayne padded into the bathroom and wetted a towel to rub off her makeup. “There’s a reason your net friends hide in the shadows then?” she called.

  Merry ignored the question. “Anyway, it’s as we suspected. This individual usually deals in weapons, but none of my revolutionaries or rabble rousers know his voice from the snippets of code I sent over to them. Even my conspiracy theorists are pretty dry on him.”

  Jayne remained in the bathroom, dabbing and faffing about. She tapped some cleansing powder from a container, added a drop of water and rubbed it in her palm. She inhaled the clinical cucumber smell, instantly feeling her body revitalizing.

  Merry’s voice called through to her. “Hey, are you removing my paint job?”

  She lathered her face, carefully avoiding her eyes. “Maybe 80%. I feel tired and greasy. You were saying this guy has a revolutionary bent, but Wilson isn’t into weapons. The only shady things about him are his work on the Treaty and his need for designer meds. By the way, did you look at those Treaty docs I pilfered from his coworker?”

  Merry raised one finger in acknowledgment while her other hand pulled up the documents. “Yeah. So the Treaty is written super cryptically. From what I could glean the government is trying to make certain farmers richer and possibly profit off any potential invasion… Real murky stuff. You would think the revolutionaries would be all over this, but our blackmailer seems to be the only one who has a clue. Well, him, Wilson, and a couple of Wilson’s coworkers, I guess.”

  Jayne patted her face and neck with a towel. “We can account for three of the four knowing what’s going on, but why would the blackmailer know?”

  “Because he or she already has access to the intel. Or deals in intel?”

  Jayne felt her scalp tingle and the hair on the back of her head stand at attention. “Oh…?” Something felt strangely familiar about what Merry had just said, like she was about to make the connection.

  “Yeah. I don’t have anything concrete, but I think our blackmailer is a spy.”

  Jayne’s head swung around the corner. “Spy?”

  Merry nodded, continuing to look at her screen intently. “Or ex-spy, I’m leaning towards ex.”

  Jayne padded over to sit by Merry on the settee. “That would explain a lot, actually… But there are a couple things that are still don’t add up.”

  “They only don’t add up if he’s a rental spy,” Merry countered. “It makes a little more sense if he’s government…”

  Jayne cringed at the term rental. “But that brings us back to who knows about the Treaty? Most of the people who would get pissed about this have no idea it’s happening.”

  “Unless they were government and went rogue. This blackmailer wouldn’t be the first government employee to leave over a disagreement. I really think our blackmailer is government. These script patterns are pure Academy, probably had a past life as a Computer Crimes Specialist given the complexity.”

  Jayne shook her head. “Could be a hacker like you.”

  Merry pursed her lips. “There’s no such thing as a hacker like me. Also, you know those docs you stole for me? They said this treaty has been in development for over three years. What’s curious is there was a mass exodus in a couple of intel departments around the time the deep covert ops guys would’ve first heard about the Treaty.”

  “Okay, so we get a list of all the government spies that…”

  Merry smirked as she finished Jayne’s sentence, “…left the government when they got wind of the Treaty. That was so thirty minutes ago. I like this guy Robert Chamberlain as our blackmailer.”

  Jayne leaned back against the sofa and closed her eyes to help her focus. “Tell me about him.”

  “Robert Chamberlain left about three months after Wilson and Company would’ve started the ball rolling, so it’s likely a couple of shady deals went down to make sure this stayed hidden. I didn’t get Chamberlain’s full file, but I was able to find his last psych eval. He’s got more lone wolf traits than most, some real mad bomber tendencies, and a lot of outward compliance to hide his inward ‘fuck you’ going on.”

  “Sounds like trouble.”

  Merry snorted. “Sounds like you, but I digress. The psych evals from the rest of the exodus were a little more on the goody two-shoes side. They realized the government they believed in was treading in some dark waters and they bailed. I can find them, though. They all got normal jobs somewhere else. Chamberlain went off the grid.”

  Jayne and Merry stared at each other for a few seconds. Jayne sighed. “We need Chamberlain’s complete file. And a little insight.”

  Merry snickered. “I felt like a crystal ball for one of those AI psychics just then.”

  Jayne thought for a moment, her eyes closed as she settled back on the sofa. “Any known associates? Like a partner we could talk to?”

  Merry flicked through her files then pulled up a search. “Gimme a minute. I’ll hack into the Agency database and see…”

  Jayne thought about protesting. And then reconsidered. She lay there for a few more precious moments of rest, the events of the party swimming in her mind.

  “Got it,” Merry announced. “A guy called Burrett. James Burrett. Says he disappeared a few years before Chamberlain though. No reason on his file.”

  Jayne sat up and looked over Merry’s shoulder to see his profile photo. “Sharp looking guy,” she commented. “Can you send that and everything you’ve got on him to me?”

  Merry shrugged. “Sure.”

  “It’s a long shot,” Jayne qualified, “but maybe this guy can tell us something about this Chamberlain dude that we can’t find out from his files. Especially since we don’t know it’s him yet.”

  Merry nodded. “Yeah. I’d need some more data to be able to cross reference it with anything I can determine at this end.”

  Jayne became more animated. “That’s it. Alfonso.”

  “Alfonso?”

  “Yeah. My friend from Spy School. He can get us Chamberlain’s Academy file, and then you can merge it with the data you’ve got from the agency. Putting his aptitude and profile test results in will help build a more complete picture right?”

  Merry nodded slowly. “Yeah. It might even give me a partial profile. See how likely it is that he’s the one running the show on this blackmail.”

  “Good.” Jayne got up. “Then we just need to track down this friend of his. Burrett. And I know just the person who might be able to trace someone who is untraceable.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And who would that be?”

  “The poker guy. The one that got me the piece.”

  Nothing from a blank faced Merry.

  “The guy from our last job.”

  “Oh! That guy. You and your shady contacts,” she quipped.

  �
�Me and my shady contacts might well yet break this case,” Jayne retorted. Though her body felt utterly devoid of energy, her mind was racing. She patted her face to wake herself up. “Okay, I’m off to hit up Alfonso and deal with the poker guy.”

  “No pun intended?”

  Jayne winked and heaved herself up from the sofa, heading back to her desk. She mentally apologized to her overworked feet as she slid them into the ballet flats Merry had supplied her with.

  +++

  L45, Theron Techcropolis, Armaros

  Jayne had Alfonso on comm by the time she reached the sidewalk.

  It was a relief to hear a familiar voice. “Hey, what’s up Jayne?”

  “Hey! Whoops—” Distracted, Jayne almost tripped over her dress waving down a cab. She caught her balance. “I was wondering if I could ask a favor…”

  “No ‘hi, how are you’? No, ‘it’s been a long time’? What’s happening to us?”

  Jayne growled softly and pulled up part of her skirt to expose her feet. “I’m sorry. Things are crazy right now. And I need you again.”

  “I’m kidding. What can I do for you?”

  Jayne frantically waved at another cab. “I got my second case…”

  “All hail the unstoppable Jayne! Tell me about it.”

  Just then a cab slowed and pulled up. Jayne nodded at the cabbie as he hovered over the curb and opened the suicide door. “Government official being blackmailed over the Treaty—”

  “The tariff one?”

  “Stoke-Dorchester Hotel, please,” Jayne instructed the cabbie before turning back to her comm. “The very same, only there’s a lot more to it. This thing isn’t what it seems.”

  “But bad enough to blackmail a government official?”

  Jayne rolled her shoulders back to get rid of some neck tension. “That, and this official makes for a great target. He’s pretty high up from the looks of it. Has this niece with a terminal illness. From what I gather, conventional meds aren’t working for her, so my client hired a, um, pharmaceutical designer from the dark web…”

  Alfonso winced. “Oooh! Not good.”

  “Yeah. He’s in it deep, partially because he’s one of the key players in this Treaty…”

  “And the blackmailer?”

  Jayne took a deep breath. “We think he’s maybe an ex-spy named Robert Chamberlain. It appears the Treaty wasn’t too popular with the covert ops crowd. A bunch of them left the service, but only one of them disappeared off the grid.”

  “This Robert Chamberlain?”

  “The very same.”

  “What makes you like this Chamberlain guy?”

  Jayne snuck a glance at the cabbie before looking out the window and lowering her voice. “He’s got the ingredients of a rogue agent and the script he used on the dark web is pure Academy. Not that I’ve told Merry that. You know, the course where you copied my work…”

  Alfonso chuckled. “I remember. And this isn’t a secure line.” He paused. “You want his file, I take it?”

  “Please. I have his most recent psych eval, which just tells me where his mind was at when he left. But we were hoping for his psychometric tests and all those assessments they put us through in the beginning of training. If I can give that to Merry, she may be able to work up a useable profile to help us track him down or anticipate his next move.”

  There was a pause in the conversation. Jayne could hear what sounded like Alfonso putting his hand over the comm and speaking to someone else in the room. From the breezy-yet-professional tone and what sounded like a repeated statement, Jayne guessed he was fending off another one of his lecherous professor’s advances.

  Alfonso returned to the call and lowered his voice. “Sorry about that. The walls had interfering ears for a moment. You’re going to have to give me a bit of time on that one because I’ll have to… Uh … acquire some files.”

  “You’re the best.”

  “And you owe me. Big time.”

  “Deal. Thanks Alfonso.”

  Jayne closed her comm and stared out the window, watching the lights move past her in tracers. She opened her tablet device and tapped a message, attaching the profile of Burrett, the former coworker of her target Chamberlain, that Merry had sent her not ten minutes before.

  She hit send.

  Then she tapped a second message to the same address:

  I’M COMING TO YOU NOW.

  +++

  Stoke-Dorchester Hotel, L75,Theron Techcropolis, Armaros

  Jayne strode confidently into the lobby and looked around. There was a definite historic, art deco vibe to the crown molding and marble pillars. Reception kiosks were a faux cherry wood, with a proper desk in the back. Jayne noticed three smartly dressed AI females behind the counter. Their movements were efficient and their smiles were courteous.

  The concierge she had met on the previous occasions was nowhere to be seen. Not that he would have recognized her. She noticed several eyes on her and remembered she was wearing her gown. Jayne took a deep breath and forced a pageant smile as she looked for the lounge area. If I can pull off this masochistic dress, I can do this as well.

  She headed through to the main gambling hall.

  Her eyes scanned the area, looking for any signs of her contact. “My, aren’t we fancy tonight?” a voice called to her from a table off to her right. “Seems like someone explained the dress code to you.”

  She locked eyes with the speaker. It was her contact. He was clearly in the middle of a game, but not in that hand. Jayne ignored the baiting and instead glanced down at the dress and playfully shrugged. “Oh, this? I put this on when I don’t care how I look.” She giggled.

  Her unnamed contact flashed her an amused smile before he glanced down at the next card being laid out by the dealer. Then his attention was back on her. “You don’t say.”

  Jayne wandered over and sat across from him. He beckoned a server over. Jayne’s head throbbed and her mouth felt dry. “Ice water for me, thanks,” she nodded.

  “To each his own,” he muttered.

  The dealer had started a new hand and her contact waited for his cards. He received his final card and took a peek.

  “You have the intel then?” she asked.

  He looked up at her and then the dealer. He flashed her a look of annoyance, as if she might blow his cover. “No, sweetheart. My table, my rules. You can play a friendly practice hand with me before the big game starts, but all information has a cost.”

  Jayne started to get up. She knew a negotiation when she saw one. This was a classic power play. Something she had learned long before the Academy had taught her how to manipulate a mark.

  He eyed her carefully, like a cat playing with its prey. “To get out of that chair is to forfeit anything I could give you.”

  She turned to look him straight in the eye. “Excuse me?”

  “You came here for something, correct?”

  She nodded.

  He held her gaze. “And now you’re just going to walk away?”

  She leaned her hand on the back of the chair, her body language relaying that she was compromising. “How do I know you have the intel I need?”

  He shrugged, his free hand gesticulating with an open palm. Jayne noticed a large ruby and gold ring on the pinky of his left hand. “You’re right. You don’t know. I’m relatively new to your orbit. But I’m guessing you need what I have. And fast.”

  Jayne remained still, waiting.

  “He’s very interesting, by the way,” he continued. “Well connected, if you know what I mean.”

  Jayne shifted her weight.

  “Look, all I’m asking is that you play a game of cards with me to find out.”

  She took a step back around the chair. “But I told you, I don’t know how to play.”

  Her contact laughed in a breathless, wheezing way that suggested he’d enjoyed a few too many good cigars. “And you think I came out of the womb knowing the difference between a flop and a river?” He studied her for a s
econd. “I know what kind of skills you’ve been taught.”

  Her mind tripped for a moment, before remembering that this was Alfonso’s contact. Maybe he knew that she and Alfonso were from the Academy then.

  She cocked her head and decided to play it coy. “How so?”

  “You’re a spy,” he said, openly and without care.

  Jayne noticed no one at the table reacted.

  The guy shrugged. “Spies gamble all the time. What’s a few rectangular pieces of paper with funny pictures?”

  She hesitated a moment, processing. “You have a point, but I don’t see what cards have to do with-”

  His tone changed. “If you want information from someone, you have to speak their language. If you don’t know their language, you have to learn it. My language is poker, and I’m fluent.”

  He went back to his hand. “No such thing as a free lunch, my girl. I probably do have your information, but you have to play in order to know for sure. It depends on how badly you want the intel.”

  And just like that, Jayne realized she was already in the game of poker, weighing the probabilities versus the risks. And so, she put on her poker face. “It wouldn’t be the weirdest thing to happen to me tonight.”

  He flashed her a slow, paternal smile. “Atta girl.”

  Jayne picked up the cards the dealer had placed in front of her and took a peek before putting them flat on the table again. Then she took her device out of her purse and plopped it on the table.

  “What are you doing?” he asked. The other players at the table were getting impatient.

  “Looking for a book on how to play poker.”

  He grinned, showing a row of yellowing teeth. “I wrote one, you know.”

  Jayne scrolled to the ‘how to’ section of Zen And The Game of Poker. She balanced the tablet with her cards. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

  The player across from her tapped his cards against the table restlessly. “Do you need a moment to read the book first?”

  “No, I should be good.”

  “I thought all spies played cards. You really don’t know what you’re doing?”