Friends In Spy Places

by Diane Henders

  Another gut-twisting retch interrupted him, and the sour smell of vomit wafted to my nose.

  “Be right back,” I yelped, and fled.

  Small towns are both a blessing and a curse. By the time I returned with ginger ale, extra paper towels, and a plastic bag, Daniel had acquired a set of surrogate grandparents. A pleasant-faced sixtyish man took the supplies from me and ferried them into the bathroom while his well-upholstered wife guarded the door, issuing decisive instructions to Kane and cooing soothing nothings at Daniel.

  I faded gratefully into the background. Thank God for people who love kids.

  Nearly an hour later Kane and Daniel emerged from the men’s room, both looking worse for wear. A pungent aroma rose from the plastic bag that apparently contained Daniel’s pants, shirt, socks and shoes. Wearing only Superman underwear, Daniel huddled miserably in Kane’s arms, his face pressed into Kane’s neck. Kane looked white and strained, and flecks of paper towel clinging to the wet stains on his T-shirt and jeans indicated that he’d only managed a cursory cleanup.

  “I think he’s over the worst of it,” Kane said. “Let’s get him back to my place. Would you please bring our jackets?”

  “Right here.” I tucked Daniel’s jacket around him, trying not to disturb him. Draping Kane’s jacket over his shoulders, I added, “The bill’s paid. Give me your keys and I’ll warm up the Expedition.”

  “They’re in my right pants pocket.” Kane nodded downward.

  When I slipped my hand into the heat of his jeans I momentarily considered a joke or a playful grope, but a glance at his expression assured me that now was not the time. I snagged his keys without fanfare and hurried out.

  Daniel whimpered as Kane did up his seatbelt, and I eyed him worriedly. “Do you think he needs to go to the hospital?”

  Kane frowned, his eyes dark in the streetlights. “I don’t know. The lady in the restaurant seemed to think this was only a normal childhood bug, but…” He swung the door shut and lowered his voice to a fierce whisper, his fists clenched by his sides. “I’ve only been a father for four months. How should I know? How does any parent ever know?”

  My heart twisted. “I don’t know. Maybe you should take him to the hospital anyway.”

  Kane nodded, a single decisive jerk of his chin. “You’re right. I’m not equipped for this, and I’d rather look like an anxious overprotective idiot than take a chance on…” He didn’t complete the sentence. “Get in,” he said instead. “I’ll drop you at Sirius on the way.”

  “It’s okay, just go straight to the hospital. I’ll walk to Sirius.”

  “I’m not going to abandon you in the middle of winter…” he began.

  “You’re not abandoning me,” I interrupted gently. “It’s only a ten-minute walk, and it was only a few degrees below zero when we left the farm. You get going. I likely won’t be able to answer my phone for the next few hours, but if you need to get a message to me, call Spider.”

  “I will. Thank you.” Kane seized me in a short fierce hug before hurrying around to the driver’s side. A moment later his Expedition accelerated out of the parking lot, and I drew a breath of relief mingled with worry and started walking.

  By the time I arrived at Sirius I was feeling better. The fresh air and exercise had dissipated the last of the alcohol and given me a small surge of energy. My carb high was sure to crash down into amplified fatigue as soon as I sat in a comfortable chair, but I appreciated it for the moment.

  I even managed a cheerful greeting for the security guard as I signed in. “Hi, Leo. Do you know if Spider is still here?”

  “Hi, Aydan. You’re here late for a Sunday.” At my nod and grimace, he added, “As far as I know Spider’s still here. Let me check…” He consulted his computer. “Looks like it.”

  “Great. Thanks.” I accepted my security fob and headed for the stairs, only to trail to a halt as a thought struck me. I reversed direction and bellied up to the security wicket again. “Is Reggie Chow still here?”

  Leo shook his head with a smile. “He used to hang out here pretty much 24/7, but now that he’s seeing Dr. Travers…” Leo said her title with reverence. “…he doesn’t spend nearly as much time at work.” Apparently bored and ready for a chat, Leo shot a quick glance around the deserted lobby before leaning forward and lowering his voice. “How about that, eh? Who would’ve thought cranky old Reggie would end up with somebody as beautiful as her?”

  I sidestepped to a different topic. “Reggie’s not that old. He can’t be more than thirty-five, is he?”

  “Well, no; he’s only thirty-three. But he’s such a hard-ass, he seems a lot older.” Leo’s expression turned reflective. “Guess I can’t blame him, though. After what he’s been through.” His face lit up. “Maybe getting together with Dr. Travers is some kind of cosmic payback. Kind of like a ‘Sorry, Buddy’ from heaven.”

  Unwilling to gossip about either of my friends, I gave Leo a smile. “Who knows?” I consulted my watch. “Guess I’d better get to work. Do you know if Holt’s still here?”

  “Yep,” Leo replied without checking his screen. “But not for long.” He nodded across the lobby.

  When I turned to look, Holt had just come out of the secured area. He looked as tired as I felt, and as he trudged over to the security wicket I asked, “Calling it a day?”

  He grunted assent, slapping his security fob into the rotating tray for Leo to collect.

  “Any luck?” I added.

  Holt shot a pointed look at Leo, an unspoken rebuke to me for asking about classified information outside the secured area. I was trying to summon enough energy for annoyance when Holt jerked his chin in a ‘follow-me’ gesture and headed for the door.

  When I fell into stride beside him, he muttered, “Grandin’s still bargaining. He’s dropped a few tidbits and says he’ll give me the good stuff when I cut him a good deal, but so far it’s just been the usual bullshit: ‘They know how to get to Kelly; my intel is the only thing that can save her; yadda, yadda’. I’m really starting to hate that fucking asshole.”

  I snorted. “Starting? That’s a first. You usually hate everybody on sight.”

  Holt barked out a laugh. “Too fucking right. Well, let him rot ’til morning. I’m going home to bed.” He gave me a narrow-eyed assessment. “You should, too. You look like shit.”

  “Fuck you very much,” I said mildly, and he grinned and tossed me a casual salute as he strode out.

  I headed for the stairs, my brain shifting into work mode as I climbed.

  Seven-thirty. With any luck I could finish my search for Sam’s documents, then zip across the globe to infiltrate MI5’s servers and still be home in bed by ten.

  After a quick trip to the ladies’ room, I headed for Spider’s office. The lights were on, and I tapped on the open door as I poked my head in. “Hi, Spider. How’s it going?”

  “Fine,” he said without looking up, his fingers racing over the keyboard. A moment later he blinked and surfaced, sitting back in his chair and giving me a smile. “Sorry, I was just chasing a lead.” He indicated the computer screen.

  “No problem.” Hope and fear quickened my pulse. “Are you finding anything? Do you know who Grandin’s buyer is?”

  Spider’s brow furrowed, his gaze returning to the computer screen as though irresistibly drawn there. “Not yet. Grandin’s not being very cooperative. He’s given us a few little teasers, but…” His voice faded, fingers twitching as if in eagerness to type, and I smiled in spite of my anxiety. Spider on a cyber-trail was just as inexorable as Kane on a mission.

  With Holt’s words lingering in my memory, I asked, “Have you discovered anything about, um… anybody who might be out to get me? Not necessarily capture me, but hurt me?”

  Spider’s attention snapped to me, his brow furrowing with worry. “No. Why? Did something happen?”

  “Not to me; but to my neighbour. Somebody set a leghold trap outside his door, but it doesn’t make sense for anybody to want t
o hurt him. He’s such a nice guy and he doesn’t have any enemies, so I was afraid maybe the trap was meant for me and somebody just mixed up our farms.”

  “Ohmigod, that’s awful!” Spider shuddered. “Leghold traps are barbaric! I don’t even want to imagine anybody getting caught in one. I haven’t got anything concrete, just Grandin’s vague threats. Holt thinks he’s only trying to rattle us, but I’ll tune into the chatter just in case.”

  “Thanks. I know you’re busy, but I’m in a bit of a time crunch tonight. Do you have time to spot me in the network, or should I call Holt back?”

  “Don’t call Holt!” The undisguised dismay in Spider’s voice brought a smile to my lips, and he flushed. “He’s really tired,” Spider explained. “And really grumpy. I can help you tonight. Holt said I didn’t need to stay late to work on this; I just…” Spider’s gaze drifted back to the screen before jerking resolutely back to me. “Are you ready to start right now?”

  “Yes, but I can wait if you’re in the middle of something.”

  “No, I can do this while you’re in the network. I only have to keep an ear open in case my monitoring software pings.” He closed the screen and rose. “I’ll go and get your network key from the secured lab.”

  While I waited for him to return with the network key, I checked my computer for any updates from the surveillance on Nora. The only new activity on the hotel phone was her whiny call to Stemp and my irritable response to her. She wasn’t even surfing the internet. The bugs in her room had picked up a few minutes of channel-surfing before the TV went silent. After that, the only sounds were soft movement, the quiet flip of book pages, and an occasional toilet flush.

  Still nothing incriminating.

  Whatever. I logged off the computer and went over to flop onto the small sofa.

  When Spider arrived a few minutes later, he asked, “How long do you think you’ll be?”

  “I don’t know. If I’m gone for more than two hours, signal me, okay? I drank a bunch of beer earlier and I’d hate for my body to pee my pants while I’m gone.”

  “Oh…” Spider blushed. “Sure, no problem. What search term should I use if I lose you?”

  “Um… let’s do something really easy for me to find, because I’m headed for some high-security places. I’m pretty sure I’ll get scrambled.” I held my voice steady so he wouldn’t realize how much that prospect frightened me.

  He paled. “Oh, no! D-Do you really have to? It totally freaks me out when we lose our connection and your body goes comatose and brain-dead. I’m always afraid you’ll get lost in the internet forever and never regain consciousness.”

  Remorse twisted my heart. I had been so focused on my own upcoming misery, I’d forgotten how upsetting this was for him.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I really hate doing it, and I know it must be awful for you, too. But I have to.”

  “I know; I just…” He sighed. “How about if I just run continuous searches for your name? You’ll be able to find it easily, and if anybody else is watching for your name, it might attract their attention and then I can reel them in.”

  “Perfect. Wish me luck.”

  “Good luck. And Aydan…” His forehead scrunched with worry. “Be careful.”

  “I’ll try.”

  But I knew it wouldn’t help.

  I closed my eyes and slipped into virtual reality.

  Chapter 12

  Putting off the terrifying trip to MI5’s servers, I sniffed around inside the Sirius network for a while. No whiffs of Nola Kelly, Nora Taylor, or Sam Kraus rewarded me, and at last I had to admit defeat.

  After another moment of hesitating in the foolish hope that I would somehow be spared the ordeal of fighting my way past MI5’s security, I stiffened my resolve and oozed into the internet. As usual, I obsessively dropped tiny data markers along my path even though the shifting IP addresses would obscure most of my trail by the time I tried to return.

  MI5’s servers were well-hidden, but I found them at last. Hovering in the data stream, I sent tentative feelers in their direction. The storm of data at their firewalls made my virtual stomach twist.

  Oh, shit. I’d never tried to breach this level of security before.

  I gathered my nerve. I could do this.

  Really, I could. I’d be fine. My consciousness couldn’t actually get trapped forever in the internet.

  Could it?

  Shut up.

  I launched myself at the firewall.

  All my data bits exploded into a chaos of ones and zeroes. The tiny remaining spark of my consciousness tumbled helplessly.

  No up, no down, no left or right.

  No out.

  Stripped to the barest semblance of self, I could only let the storm fling me where it would.

  At last I hurtled across a slim ribbon of smoother flow, like a trickle of water leaving an angry ocean. I thrashed frantically backward to regain the tiny stream and let it carry me to the safety of the nearest internet data tunnel.

  Clinging like a spent swimmer, I could neither pant nor sob, but I would have done both if my bodiless form had been capable of it. My few remaining data bits vibrated with sheer terror.

  Did my complete consciousness still exist? Spider would be firing search after search into the internet to call me home, but I knew with cold certainty that I couldn’t make it without collecting the rest of my virtual self.

  I was trapped here.

  My worst nightmare was coming true…

  Something whisked by me, a flavour I knew.

  One of my own data bits. I seized it, hugging the glorious familiarity close.

  That tiny addition lent me strength enough to extend a cautious feeler into the data storm. Soon I captured another piece of my consciousness, then another. Each new assimilation replenished my strength.

  With more confidence, I fashioned a net of feelers, sweeping it through the turbulent data again and again to capture the remaining fragments of myself.

  At last I was whole. I was vibrating with terror and exhaustion, but I was finally, gloriously, whole.

  All perception of time had fled. It might have been minutes, hours, or days since I left Sirius. Or longer.

  Would my body still be waiting for my return?

  What if I had been declared legally dead? What if they had pulled the plug and cremated my body, leaving me trapped in here forever?

  With an inaudible scream, I rocketed down the data tunnel flinging questing tendrils in all directions.

  Where were my markers? Where were Spider’s life-giving searches?

  Aydan Kelly.

  There!

  Aydan Kelly. Aydan Kelly. Aydan-Kelly-Aydan-KellyAydanKellyAydanKelly…

  I catapulted my consciousness along the stream of searches with such velocity that when I burst into Sirius’s virtual file repository my avatar crashed through two walls before rolling to a sobbing halt in the corridor.

  Sprawled facedown on the virtual floor with my arms and legs spread wide to take in the maximum amount of glorious sensation, I gasped my terror and relief into the sim.

  “Aydan! Aydan! Omigod, say something! Aydan!” Spider’s avatar hurtled down the corridor toward me. He flung himself to his knees, sliding the last couple of feet to lock his arms around me. “I’ll get you out!” He struggled to lift me, apparently forgetting that in virtual reality his avatar could be as strong as he chose.

  Paradoxically, his near-hysteria calmed me. I sucked in a shuddering breath and sat up.

  “I’m okay,” I croaked.

  “Thank God!” Spider buried his face in my shoulder. “I thought I’d lost you. I th-thought I’d lost you…”

  I patted his back while he clung to me, trembling violently.

  “What happened?” he demanded a few seconds later.

  “I…” Even though I was only an avatar, I still had to stop and swallow. “I thought I’d lost me, too. How long was I gone?”

  “Nearly two hours. You were brain-dead an
d comatose for nearly two hours! I called Jack, and the hospital, but we were afraid to move your body out of the building in case you were still trying to come back…” He trailed off with a gulp and hugged me tighter.

  “I was. Believe me, I was.” I hugged him in return. “Let’s get out of here. I’m completely creeped out and I just want to get back into my body.”

  “Okay.” Spider relinquished his grip on me and sat back on his heels. A frown formed on his forehead.

  “What?” I demanded, my voice cracking. “What is it? What’s wrong now?”

  “Nothing,” he assured me. “I was just thinking. You’re probably going to be in terrible pain when you step through the network portal, aren’t you? Because you’re so tired.”

  “Probably.” I dragged myself to my feet. “I don’t care. Any amount of pain is better than what I just went through.”

  As I turned toward the portal, Spider sprang to his feet. “Hang on. Can you wait here in the virtual network just a few seconds longer? I have an idea that might help with the pain.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “Are you carrying a trank pistol? Like, in real life? On your real body?”

  “Yes…” I said slowly. “In my left ankle holster. Why?”

  “Because if I go out of the network first, I can pop one of the darts open to release the aerosolized tranquilizer. Your body will breathe it and pass out, and that should snap your consciousness out of the sim and back into your body. You’ll wake up in about five minutes, and that’s about how long it usually takes for the pain to go away, right? So you shouldn’t feel a thing.”

  Hope dawned, but I squashed it. “But you just said I’ve been comatose for the last couple of hours, and I’m still in the network. Unconsciousness shouldn’t be any different.”

  “But… it kind of… is different,” he said slowly. “Because your coma was caused by you being in the sim, not by something that affected your physical body. It’s like… a push instead of a pull.”