Once Burned, Twice Spy

by Diane Henders

  “Thanks, Spider.” I gave him a one-armed hug and let him off the hook with a subject change as we turned toward the stairs. “Do you know what our meeting is about?”

  He shot a wary glance at a pair of civilians waiting in the lobby. “Yes.”

  We climbed the stairs in silence and my heart rate accelerated well beyond the demands of the modest exertion.

  When we reached the top, I tried again. “Am I getting a new mission?” My voice cracked on the last word and I swallowed.

  Spider hurried down the hallway, avoiding my gaze and evading my question. “Aren’t you looking forward to another mission? I figured you’d be bored after a month of doing decryptions day and night and having constant headaches from the network.”

  I trotted beside him. “I was… am, I mean. Sort of. But…”

  He paused, looking down at me worriedly. “Are you okay? Aren’t you mission-ready?”

  “Well, yeah, of course… but…” I glanced up and down the empty hallway and lowered my voice. “Don’t tell anybody, but… I just… That last mission with Holt… it shook me. I thought I was better than that, you know?”

  Spider frowned. “What do you mean? Your mission was successful. The terrorist attack never happened so that was a big win; and it wasn’t your fault that your informant switched sides and killed your arms buyer. Any mission where none of the good guys die is a successful one.”

  “I know, but…” I sighed. “Holt’s so… I just…”

  Screw it. Now wasn’t the time for a heart-to-heart.

  I shrugged and finished, “Nothing I did on that mission went right. Just bad luck, I guess.”

  I didn’t utter the words that pounded inside my brain.

  I had screwed everything up and Holt had to rescue me.

  I wasn’t good enough.

  “And I bet Holt kept needling you about it every chance he got. He’s a jerk,” Spider said hotly. “You’re a ’way better agent than him, and a ’way better person. Don’t let him get you down.”

  I sighed again and turned to trudge toward the meeting room. “Thanks, Spider. I just hope I don’t get him for a partner again.”

  “Not this time.” He gestured me ahead of him to the doorway.

  I stepped forward only to halt at the sight of the two forbidding figures seated at the meeting table. My mouth dropped open and I blurted the first thought that flashed into my mind.

  “Oh shit, who do we have to kill?”

  Chapter 2

  Hellhound’s chair creaked as he stood, his homely face creasing in a grin that flashed white teeth through his beard. “Hey, darlin’.” He opened muscular tattooed arms, and my own face split in a wide smile as I stepped into his hug.

  “Arnie! It’s so good to see you!” I cuddled close and hugged him in return.

  Successfully resisting the mischievous urge to slide my hands lower and give him a more personal squeeze, I stepped back. Better not go there in public. Given the slightest encouragement he’d melt my mind with his legendary kisses despite the presence of the other two.

  Or because of it. He did love to stir the pot.

  My lips twitched with wicked amusement, and I brought my inappropriate thoughts to heel by continuing, “But you’re scaring me. Are you here in… um… an official capacity?”

  “Yep. But don’t worry, darlin’, I’m a weapons specialist today. We ain’t killin’ anybody. ’Least, not as far’s I know.” He turned to the other man at the table. “Chow, ya ain’t plannin’ to knock off some poor schmuck at the conference, are ya?”

  Dr. Chow scowled with half his face. The other half remained immobile as usual, the fire-ravaged scar tissue and prosthetic eye a horrifying reminder of his former military service.

  “Maybe,” he growled. “Depends on who pisses me off.” He shot a sour look at Hellhound’s bulky arm still draped around my shoulders. “I can tell you right now, if you pull any lovey-dovey shit in front of me I’ll kill you both.”

  “Oh, come on, Reggie,” I wheedled. “Don’t be jealous. You know you’ll always be my favourite Head of Weapons Research.”

  The undamaged side of his mouth turned up and he shot an evil glance at Hellhound as he replied, “I know. Admit it, Kelly, you just can’t get enough of my left nut.”

  I clasped my hands in an expression of rapture and breathed, “Your nuts are all I ever think about.”

  Spider turned beet red and Hellhound let out a bellow of laughter just as Director Charles Stemp strode into the room and closed the door behind him.

  One of his eyebrows lifted a fraction at the sight of Reggie’s and Hellhound’s unwholesome grins, and I hurriedly advised, “Don’t ask.”

  Stemp returned his usual expressionless gaze. “I had no intention of doing so,” he replied without inflection. “Let’s begin.”

  Hellhound dropped into his chair again, making it squeak in protest. I hurried around the table to take a seat next to Reggie, with my back to the wall. Spider slid in across from me, his blush fading but curiosity sparkling in the gaze he bounced between Hellhound, Reggie, and me.

  “Agent Kelly,” Stemp said to me. “Apologies for the short notice, but we require an agent to accompany Dr. Chow and his team to Calgary for a conference today and tomorrow.”

  My heart sank. Damn. I’d have to make that shitty drive after all.

  “I told you I wanted her in the first place,” Reggie interrupted. “And the U.S. had already requested her, so it was pretty much a sure thing. You could have told her last week.”

  Stemp betrayed no emotion, his voice as dispassionate as ever. “Noted. However, my objections to using Kelly still stand. I’m wary of such specific interest from the other countries…”

  “Countries?” Reggie emphasized the plural. “Who else requested her?”

  “The United Kingdom,” Stemp replied. “I don’t like it; and what’s more, her cover as Arlene Widdenback the arms dealer is still active and I don’t want anyone to make that connection with you.”

  “Nobody’s going to recognize me,” Reggie countered. “And the other countries are our allies, remember?”

  “Your reasoning is fresh in my mind, as is our status with Five Eyes,” Stemp replied crisply.

  My pulse ticked up. Five Eyes? Was Ian Rand behind the U.K.’s request for my presence? But surely an individual MI6 agent wouldn’t have that much pull…

  My stomach dropped. Shit. He’d broken his promise and reported me to his chain of command. Fear chilled my blood. Had he betrayed Moonbeam and Karma and Skidmark, too?

  “So, um…” My voice came out slightly hoarse. “Do they… did the U.K. and U.S. give any reason why they wanted me, specifically? They shouldn’t even know I’m an agent, should they?”

  “The United States knows,” Stemp replied. “Your clearances were registered with the Department of Homeland Security when you passed through their airports on your missions; although I had hoped they wouldn’t disseminate that information throughout all their intelligence agencies.”

  “But I’ve never been to the U.K., so they wouldn’t have any record of me unless Agent Rand told them. He promised he wouldn’t, but…” I trailed off.

  Ian hadn’t actually promised me that. Moonbeam and Karma and Skidmark had assured me of his word, but I couldn’t reveal their deep cover even to Charles Stemp, the Director of Clandestine Operations. And I especially couldn’t reveal it to Charles Stemp, their son.

  “The United Kingdom’s request did not originate from Agent Rand’s intel,” Stemp said. “Nora Taylor, their head of Weapons Research, merely asked to meet with you while she was here.”

  I frowned. “I don’t know any Nora Taylor.”

  “She said as much. But she knows of you.” Stemp’s gaze sharpened. “She is Dr. Sam Kraus’s widow and the sole beneficiary of his estate.”

  Spider’s eyes widened. “Sam was married? And Ms. Taylor owns the civilian research branch of Sirius Dynamics now?”

  “She would, if it ha
dn’t been seized as the proceeds of crime after Kraus’s arrest,” Stemp replied. “However, she has not been informed of that. As far as she knows the estate is currently tied up with probate red tape, and she has been working with us to unravel the complexities of the holdings. She wants to meet with Agent Kelly to reminisce about Kraus.”

  My bullshit-detectors sprang to quivering attention. “How did she get my name? Why would she know I knew Sam?”

  “When Kraus was fleeing his murderous compatriots after…” Stemp glanced at Hellhound and Reggie, obviously filtering out classified information. “…your trip to Georgia, he called his wife to tell her he feared for his life and that he might have to go into hiding for an unspecified period of time. He told her you were helping him.”

  Conflicted memories twisted my guts and wrung my heart. I had helped Sam, all right. Straight into Stemp’s custody, and subsequently into a death that probably wasn’t from natural causes.

  “Does she know we arrested Sam?”

  “No; as far as she knows he vanished after that last phone call and was subsequently discovered dead a couple of months later. Kraus never mentioned a spouse to us, and since Ms. Taylor is a British citizen and their marriage took place in the United Kingdom, we didn’t discover their relationship until after Kraus’s estate went to probate. At that time we chose not to provide any details other than his death from a heart attack.”

  “Do you think she knows anything about Sam’s… other activities?” I asked.

  “When we realized Ms. Taylor was a high-level manager in MI5 with a correspondingly high security clearance, we chose not to inform her of any details while MI5 conducted a confidential internal investigation on our behalf. They cleared her of any suspicion, and she has since been promoted to their Head of Weapons Research.”

  “And do you think they did a thorough investigation?” I asked.

  Stemp lifted a shoulder in one of his infinitesimal shrugs. “We have no choice but to provisionally accept their findings. But if she was involved in Kraus’s illegal operations she would certainly have a vested interest in finding out how much you know.”

  I gulped. “And she’s involved in Sirius’s civilian operations now. How… isn’t that a giant security breach waiting to happen?”

  “The management company that Kraus engaged years ago to run the civilian branch is continuing as before, so Ms. Taylor is not directly involved. Of necessity, the chain of command informed her of our intelligence operations here, but she has no jurisdiction or clearances. Our status is secure.”

  “Well, that must be a relief to the chain of command,” Reggie drawled. “Business as usual; and Taylor has a huge security clearance. They must be absolutely creaming themselves.”

  Stemp’s tone remained as clinical as ever; but I knew him well enough to identify the annoyance simmering under that cool façade. “Yes, the chain of command prefers to foster cordial relations with Ms. Taylor for the time being; and they see this as an opportunity to please both her and the United States. On the strength of Ms. Taylor’s security clearance, they divulged Kelly’s agent status to her and ordered me to assign Kelly to this conference, despite my advice to the contrary.”

  Stemp transferred his attention back to me. “Dr. Chow and his team will be presenting our ultrasound weapon prototypes in a conference with the other Five Eyes countries at the Calgary facility tomorrow. There is also a meet-and-greet this evening at twenty-one hundred hours. You and Helmand will provide security. You will also make yourself available for conversations with Ms. Taylor, and, if possible, determine whether she was aware of Kraus’s activities. Webb will coordinate your operation from here.”

  Stemp fixed Reggie and Hellhound in his flat reptilian gaze. “Kelly is in charge. You will obey her orders immediately, without question, and to the letter.”

  I gulped as the magnitude of the mission dawned on me.

  Oh, God, investigating Nora Taylor would have been more than enough for me to handle. But I was also going to be solely responsible for safeguarding a classified death ray and Canada’s most brilliant weapon developers. If they fell into enemy hands…

  My mind skittered with fear. Stemp’s reservations about this mission had reawakened all my insecurities. He would have preferred to assign a top agent like Holt; not Aydan Kelly, former bookkeeper…

  I straightened my spine. Shut up. I could do this. And anyway, Stemp hadn’t said he was worried about my abilities; only about my identity.

  Focus on what you can control.

  “How many people on your team?” I asked Reggie. My voice came out sounding calmer and more professional than I felt.

  “Just Melinda, Murray, and me.”

  Plus Hellhound and myself made five. Plus our assorted luggage and deadly weapons.

  “So we’ll need two vehicles,” I said. “Um… why don’t we just fly down? Can’t we use one of the military helicopters?”

  “See, that’s what I said!” Reggie seconded with a triumphant glance at Stemp. “Kelly’s in charge, right? If she thinks we should fly…”

  “That would be the optimum solution,” Stemp agreed. “And I already pitched it to the chain of command. However, they say they can’t justify the expense.”

  “But…” I began, then shut up. It was pointless to argue that they’d authorized helicopters for me before. I wasn’t their unique and precious decryption asset anymore; I was an agent with so much dangerous classified knowledge that it was a miracle they still allowed me outside the secured facility at all.

  Claustrophobia shortened my breath. Don’t think about being locked up. Just do the job.

  “Okay,” I said instead. “I don’t want to take my own car, though. No point in attracting anybody who might be watching for Arlene Widdenback. Arnie, did you drive here?”

  “Yeah, I’ve got the Forester.”

  “Reggie, your car has hand controls, doesn’t it?” I asked.

  “Yes,” he said, belligerence edging the word. “So what?”

  “So if we take your car it means you have to drive, because I’ve never used hand controls before and I don’t want to take a chance using unfamiliar controls in poor road conditions,” I said in the most matter-of-fact tone I could muster.

  “I’ve already requisitioned a Hummer from the motor pool,” Stemp said. “Kelly will drive.”

  Reggie’s face hardened, but he said nothing.

  “Webb will arrange your hotel reservations,” Stemp went on. “I suggest you leave as soon as possible. This storm is weakening and the roads have been plowed; however the forecast indicates that another front may hit later this evening.”

  I barely managed to contain my sigh. “Okay. I’ll need to pick up some things from my house on the way by, but we can leave whenever everybody’s ready.”

  “Melinda and Murray can be ready with the weapons in half an hour,” Reggie said. “But it’ll take me a couple of hours to powder my nose.”

  He spoke the last sentence with bitterness, and I eyed him uncertainly. If it was a joke, nobody seemed to be laughing.

  I abandoned speculation as Hellhound spoke. “Okay, that’ll gimme time to grab some lunch an’ gear up at Stores. Meet in the lobby at fifteen-thirty?”

  “Make it fifteen hundred,” Reggie corrected. “I’ll rush it a bit. No big deal if I have to finish up in the car. I’m not driving.” Bitterness still darkened his tone.

  “Sounds good,” Hellhound agreed easily. “It’ll be better if we can drive mostly in daylight. It’ll be damn near pitch dark by the time we get there anyway, with this cloud cover.”

  Stemp nodded and stood. “Very well. Check-ins every hour on the hour while you’re in transit. Dismissed.” He strode out.

  Spider turned to us. “I’ll book your hotel and email you the reservation information. Four adjoining rooms? Or…” A flush rose on his cheeks as he glanced at Arnie and me. “…three…?”

  “Three,” Hellhound said. “I ain’t stayin’ at the hotel. I’m g
onna stay at the secured facility an’ guard the weapons.”

  I briefly considered pointing out that the bunker of Calgary’s facility was probably one of safest places in the country, but Arnie knew damn well how secure it was. If he said he needed to guard the weapons, it wasn’t my place to argue.

  “Okay,” Spider began, but I interrupted.

  “Um, Spider… can we make it two adjoining rooms?” I glanced at Reggie. “If Reggie doesn’t mind bunking with me?”

  Spider blushed scarlet as his gaze pingponged between Reggie, Arnie, and me.

  I hastened to explain, “If I’m responsible for protecting everybody and something goes wrong, I don’t want to have to decide which room to run to first. Get a suite with a separate bedroom if you can, and Reggie can have the bedroom. Murray and Melinda can have the adjoining room and I’ll-”

  “I want a separate room,” Reggie interrupted.

  “But…”

  “I. Want. A. Separate. Room,” he repeated slowly and clearly, his voice rock-hard. “If you have to decide which way to run, run to Murray and Melinda first.”

  “But, Reggie, you’re the Head of-”

  “I don’t give a shit!” he snapped. “Three adjoining rooms, Webb.” He rose and limped toward the door.

  Worry rose, and I blurted, “Reggie, are you okay? Did you hurt your leg?”

  He turned, his good eye raking me as his hand clenched. “Got a little abrasion on one of my stumps.” The word came out with vicious emphasis. “I’m fine.” He limped out, his shoulders rigid. Even the scar-twisted forefinger and thumb on his pincer-hand were curled as though to form a fist despite his missing fingers.

  “Hell, that guy’s as sweet an’ cuddly as a fuckin’ alligator,” Hellhound observed. He grinned at me. “An’ he’s fuckin’ crazy. No guy in his right mind would turn down a chance to hit the sheets with ya, darlin’.”

  “I wasn’t offering that,” I protested. “I just think it’d be easier to protect everybody if they’re closer together. Ideally we’d all be in the same room.” I shuddered. “Except that Murray and Melinda would probably use it as an opportunity to show off their kinky sex life, and that’s more than I want to know.”