The Single Lady Spy Series Boxset

by Tara Brown

  Janice was visibly worried.

  I gave her my best attempt at a kind expression. “We will sort this out. You just might have to never be you again.”

  She flinched but nodded.

  I knew exactly what was going through her mind and how much it hurt.

  16

  Bond, Jack Bond

  “You know the one good thing about the EU is their lack of border patrols.” Jack chuckled to himself as he drove us in the car Luce had stolen in Paris.

  “I don't think this was the intended purpose of the union.” Luce opened her window and let the breeze blow over us. “But you’re right, this is awesome.”

  We had made it two countries over but had gone in wild zigzagging patterns. I was tired and ready to kill someone. But sitting was better than anything for my feet so I suffered in silence and lost all feeling in my butt as Jack zoomed along the Autobahn.

  I moaned and stretched, earning a comment from Janice, “You have ADHD, don't you?”

  “What? No.”

  She nodded. “You do. I bet you can’t ever sit still and you change your mind constantly, and you hate choosing anything and being stuck with it.”

  I scoffed. “You can’t tell that by a stretch and a yawn. And no, I don’t.”

  Jack and Luce sniggered in the front seat like assholes, but I refused to admit there was any possibility my being antsy was anything other than a lack of constant peace and daily yoga classes.

  “I have it. That's how I recognize the symptoms.”

  “Awesome.” I wasn’t certain where this was going, but I was becoming less patient as the conversation continued.

  “My dad has it as well. It’s genetic. My research was actually moving into the neurotransmitters of the brain, working toward regulating the output of dopamine pathways. This would have eventually lead into depression, with serotonin levels being regulated.” Her eyes glazed over. “It was going to be revolutionary.”

  My heart, which was no longer in survival-Evie mode, twinged a little for her. This was her baby. She was thirty-one years old, single, living alone in a shitty apartment, and in a foreign country, and that research was all of her accomplishments. It was her life.

  That made me hurt for her. Not badly enough to believe we should free her and let the whole world suffer as a result.

  “So when you gave your research to Dr. Drusack—”

  “Oh, I never gave him the research, just a container of drone-like nanorobots, simply programmed to follow one task.” She shook her head. “He doesn’t know how to make them or anything like that. And the program I gave him that was initiated with him giving them one single command is corrupted. Once it was set to run with whatever he asked them to do, the program ended. It was a one-time use.”

  Jack glanced back in the rearview mirror. “So he came to you and asked for some nanorobots and you just gave them to him?”

  “I did,” she said. “I thought that he was going to help me branch out with my research. He has published far greater studies than I ever will and the research is protected. I never imagined he would use it for anything like that. In fact, he told me he wouldn't. He’s a scientist. All scientists want to preserve life on the earth; it’s never about killing innocent people for us.”

  Luce gave me a sideways glance. I knew what she wanted me to do, but I didn't want to. It wasn’t ours to share. If she managed to get away from us, Janice could tell others of the Burrow. I shook my head subtly. “Loose lips sink ships,” I muttered.

  Janice agreed, “Indeed.”

  “So he asked for a specific number of nanorobots?”

  “Yes. He said he needed five hundred for testing. He was going to do five groups of fifty and we had to account for mishaps and malfunctions. You always provide for double the amount needed in testing. He said he’d be a few months with it. I planned to publish long before then. I’d already filed my patents to protect the rights.”

  “How did he program each of them to detonate bombs in various locations if the bots had only one program?”

  Jack answered Luce’s question for Janice, “He programmed the bots to detonate the bombs. They each would have been synced. Or he scheduled them to be delivered at the exact same time.”

  Janice agreed, “That's right. If he had the bots take their hosts to the hospitals as delivery people, he could’ve run the one program on all the bots and detonated five hundred bombs.”

  “So now he’s out of bots, and even if he still has a few, he’s unable to program the ones he has left?”

  She shrugged. “He might have saved a few, but you’re right, the program has run its course. The bots he has are useless if he can’t find the codes to program them.”

  “Evie will kill him long before he gets to that stage.” Jack continued driving.

  My insides were cramping and my breathing was painful, but I didn't have time to be injured. Jack was right. I would kill him.

  I pulled the disgusting socks off and unwound the bandages. Seeing the cuts and scrapes and swelling of my feet was defeating. They appeared worse.

  “Good God, you are fairly extreme.” Janice leaned in to get a better look.

  Luce laughed. “She is the most extreme. If a job needs to get done, this is your woman.”

  I scoffed. “No. I have a terribly strong sense of survival, that's all. I hate pain, but I hate being caught or losing more. Highly competitive maybe, but extreme—no.”

  “Being extreme is another ADHD symptom. They have proven the trait has overcome Darwin’s theory of survival of the fittest because people with ADHD are predisposed to being better hunters. They are more likely to do extreme things and hyperfocus with activities they enjoy. And women are instinctively attracted to extreme men; we are drawn to them and therefore carry the genetic disability through to the next generation.”

  “Well, sign me up then. I need some hyperfocus.”

  Janice chuckled. “Oh, I think you might be the president of the club.”

  Luce laughed. “It’s all fairly accurate, you know.”

  I pulled my hand out of Servario’s baggy trousers and acted surprised by the middle finger I found in there for her.

  They both laughed. I wished I could laugh, but I was stuck on the fact that my father was part of something evil. He knew I was helping the Burrow and he had to know the Burrow was misusing its assets. I wondered if my mom knew as well. Servario clearly knew. He had warned us about Janice because the Burrow wanted her. They had sent him to get her. Obviously. The problem was his membership to the Organization. They wanted Janice too. So he sent us to retrieve her for the Burrow and sent himself and hired the most inept group of bad guys I had ever seen to be his team. He had set himself up for a failed abduction.

  And we were the good guys, bringing the poor helpless doctor to the Burrow before the world could force misdeeds from her. Except she wasn't helpless, and we weren’t helping anyone but the few who believed the New World Order wasn't such a bad plan.

  It was so cliché. The people at the top of the food chain always did see the masses as a burden. Population culling wasn’t invented by these people. It was an old idea, maybe started by the Nazis. Maybe even before the Nazis. I didn't know. But I knew we had to stop it.

  Jack pulled off the Autobahn, taking an exit to a smaller highway. He drove into countryside like I had never seen. It was green—so green it seemed photoshopped. The houses were small and white with red rooftops and black wooden beams. It was a valley with what appeared to be high mountains, but I had seen the Rockies in British Columbia, so I knew how big mountains could get.

  It was breathtaking though to see the bright-green and village-style communities against the dark forest that surrounded us. The bark on the trees was black like it had been burnt, but it grew that way.

  We drove along a river to a much larger town, more like a small city but very European looking.

  “This is Gernsbach.”

  “Are we in the Black Forest?” Janice as
ked as if familiar with the area.

  “Yeah.” Jack seemed to know this place as well.

  “Drusack has a house near here. You’re aware of that I’m sure. Some place with the word ‘bad’ in it. I thought it was weird, but he said ‘bad’ means bath in German.”

  “Bad Herrenalb, and yes, I am aware of it.” Jack laughed confidently.

  “You are?” Luce didn't look convinced.

  “I am.” He winked at her. “The moment Evie is better, she and you can sneak over there, kill him, and destroy whatever he has going on. There’s an airport ten minutes from my house. Fitz and your mom can meet us there with the jet if we get into trouble. We’ll flee the area the moment Drusack is dead and the bots are destroyed.”

  “Thanks for telling us the plan.” Luce hit him in the arm. I realized then something was different between them. I had missed it before. The chemistry between them had faded or just died altogether.

  “I formed it as we drove here. It’s not perfect and the equipment I have at the house is basic. We might even have to take a shopping trip. We don't want anyone to know we’re here.”

  “You own a house here?” Luce looked lost and a bit hostile.

  “Yes.” He didn't seem to get the tone she was giving. “I told you I bought some real estate when I was nineteen. It was investments I made with the money from selling my websites. Just some dot-com money.”

  Janice snorted and I sat back, completely baffled by the young man.

  “And no one knows you own it?”

  “No. I actually created a whole new identity for myself once. Had it for tax avoidances,” Jack said.

  “You mean evasion?” I asked sardonically.

  He winked at me in the rearview mirror. “Semantics. I mean, I used it to hide money and when I joined CI, I used it to be someone else when I needed to be. His name is Walter Eirew and he’s a French photographer, a playboy, and a trust fund philanthropist. Born in France and holds houses in several remote parts of Europe.”

  “So the polar opposite of you?”

  “Right. Who expects the nerd in the basement to be a man of mystery and wealth? Have you seen my paychecks? They’re pathetic.” He cracked a cheeky grin, something that told me the man we usually saw was the act and the other personality might actually be him.

  “Anyone else feel we’re being led to our deaths or the worst betrayal ever?” Luce sneered at him.

  Good old Jack was back instantly, “I—uhm think we should talk about this later.” He had tried to impress her and he had failed miserably. “At the house.”

  The drive to the house was spectacular. He left the town and headed into the hills until we reached an entrance with a brick wall. Jack punched in a code and the massive black gate opened for us. He drove in, pausing to watch it close and lock again.

  I had to admit Luce had a point. I was a bit nervous about the fact that he hadn’t let us in on the real him, or the fake or other him. I had a bad feeing about the mansion as we crested the hill and it came into view. It was the sort of house a bad guy kept. A lair if you will.

  Maybe it was a bat cave where he honestly lived a quiet superhero-style life, but it might also be that he lived a dangerous one where he’d double-crossed us.

  There was no way to be certain until we went inside. He parked in front of the circle driveway and immediately an elderly man came hurrying out. He was dressed in a suit and acted shocked or worried. He got Jack’s door first. “Sir, we didn't know you were coming.” The man was English and butler-like.

  Jack stepped out, waving it off. “I decided to take a trip. Ve have been to a rave in Warsaw and are exhausted.” Jack’s accent was perfect Parisian French. I almost shit my pants. “Ve vont be staying long. My friend got quite drunk and high and hurt her feet. Zey must be tended to. She must take ze waters.”

  “Oh, of course she must. The house as always is ready for you.” The man smiled nervously. “I will have the rooms readied for the ladies.” He glanced at the trunk of the Mercedes. “No bags?”

  “Non. Ve flew in. I stole zis car, burn it.”

  The man’s eyes widened, but he nodded and got into the driver’s seat as we all climbed out. Jack turned and walked into the house, very much like he belonged here in the creepy castle on the hillside. He suited the life of the young French aristocrat. It was odd.

  He turned back to us all, winking. “Este will show you to your rooms.” He turned and in perfect French told the woman to take us to our rooms and ensure they are satisfactory.

  The girl curtseyed and hurried to the grand staircase.

  His house made Servario’s many houses seem plain. It was the same sort of theme—marble and fancy with gilded stuff everywhere, but here, there was grandeur. Clearly, the house had been a Bavarian castle at one point.

  The three of us followed the girl, me barefoot and injured, Janice still awkward and scared, and Luce pissed off in a dark and chilling way.

  Jack hurried down the hall away from us. He didn't look back and he wasn't unsure. It was strange. I almost missed the other Jack.

  My eyes went to the sky, checking the ceiling for cameras and other security systems by which we might have been scrutinized.

  At the first room we were shown by the mousy brunette maid, Luce stormed in and slammed the door behind her.

  The hall shook a bit.

  “Sorry.” I winced and offered an explanation, “She’s tired and cranky.”

  The girl cocked an eyebrow so I said it again but in French, explaining cranky. Her lips widened into a smile. “Cranky.” She laughed, clearly never having heard that word before. “I like cranky.” Her accent was thick like English might have been reserved for television watching only.

  She showed me the next room. I eyeballed Janice. “Don't try anything.”

  She smiled, but I couldn't miss the tears in her eyes mixing with the exhaustion. “Where would I go? I have no money, no passport, and everyone wants me either dead or in a cell.” She sauntered into the room and closed the door slowly. The lock clicked the moment it closed.

  “Fucking diva,” I whispered and followed Este to the last bedroom door. Inside was a magnificent bedroom. Something I was becoming accustomed to. The smirking arms dealer was the only thing missing from the space.

  I dragged my tired ass into the room, went straight for the en suite, and started pouring a deep tub in the large corner bath. I added salts and bubbles from the basket on the counter. I had been awake for a horrendously long time and was ready for some sleep.

  The room was a little dusty, but that was about the only thing wrong with it. The king bed was made military tight and the window was clean and cracked slightly so the crisp mountain air could filter in.

  I sighed and stared at the scene, wondering if anyone else was humming The Sound of Music. A door slammed and I contemplated hurrying out to the hallway to stop whatever bad things were going on, but I didn't care. Come hell or high water, I was taking that fucking bath and sleeping. Fuck everyone.

  17

  Bad Evie

  The bath had been a type of ecstasy but the bed was a whole other ball of wax. I moaned as I slipped into the soft sheets, so high in thread count they were nearly silk. My feet ached, my back throbbed, and my ribs burned. Everything hurt, but the moment my head hit the pillow I was out.

  Dreams plagued me, fueled by worry and separation from my kids. Every thought was survival and betrayal and getting fucked on another pool table with no orgasm.

  I woke tired and uncertain of how long I had actually slept when I noticed it was sunny again. The light shone through the blinds that someone had closed for me, but I could see the bright day in the outline of them.

  “Did you sleep well?” a man’s voice asked softly from the corner. I blinked, curious if I was still dreaming or if somehow a man was actually in my bedroom. “I imagine it was hard to sleep, knowing so many things were going wrong all at once. Did you worry about your kids?”

  My eyes popped
open and my heart thumped. Coop sat in the far corner, staring at me as a silhouette.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, annoyed and groggy. “Where are my kids?”

  “They’re downstairs, totally fine. And I am watching you sleep. Waiting for you to wake so I can kill you.”

  “Well, get it over with. My head hurts and my entire body is on fire.”

  “It’s probably left over from letting him touch you.” His tone was mocking, but there was a measure of hurt in there.

  “Oh God, can we not do this? I am in agony. I’m pretty sure Servario and my dad and the fucking Burrow have screwed us over, yet again. I trust no one. We rolled up and Jack started his rendition of Louis the Hundredth, and Luce is ready to kill him. All I could think the entire time was holy shit, he’s betrayed us too. And you know what I did with that paranoia? I went to sleep. I had a bath and went to sleep. I didn't even care. So if you want to judge me for doing my job and hate on me for doing a good job, then go ahead, but take that other shit out of this room. This is my room. Este gave it to me.” I coughed and winced from the pain in my broken ribs. “It’s a drama-free space.”

  Coop got up and walked to the drapes, pulling them back and letting the midday sun in. I had slept for a whole day. I sighed, seeing him in his jeans and tee shirt, all cute and muscled. He was exactly what I didn't need in that moment of weakness and self-pity. I was confused after recalling Servario’s confession to me about changing the world, and I didn't need to add Coop to that. Especially not after the ridiculous “I like you” scene.

  He sat on the bed, as far from me as he could get, and lifted one of his large fingers at me. “You screwed up. Admit it.”

  “No, I didn't. Have you talked with Jack yet? Or Luce?”

  He bit his lip.

  “Right, well let me fill you in on something: we are being screwed with, brutally. The Burrow is the one who bombed Saudi Arabia.”