Once Burned, Twice Spy

by Diane Henders

  And Nora could have shot herself up with ketamine later… but no; why would she do that?

  Or maybe Ian and Grandin were working together.

  I ran the scenario through my mind. Maybe Ian had told Grandin I was coming to his room. Grandin could have stationed Dirk in the lobby to follow me as I left; Nora could have dumped the metal powder in my parka pocket…

  Struck by a thought, I sat up straight.

  Hell, Nora could have planted the metal powder on me while she was hugging me after dropping her ‘Dani-dear’ bombshell. I had been so paralyzed with shock, she could have stuffed cabbages in my pockets and I’d never have noticed.

  And then after I had left, Grandin could have found Ian unconscious and seized the opportunity to shoot Nora with the ketamine dart and accuse me of doing it…

  My heart thumped faster.

  That had to be it. The reports said Nora swore I hadn’t shot her; but since she didn’t know who had, I was on the hook for it.

  Dammit, Holt had better be investigating Grandin as well as hunting me…

  Unable to sit still any longer, I rang the bell and wove to the front of the bus.

  I was still at least a mile away from my motel, but I welcomed the cold walk. Incipient panic pushed me almost to a jog, as though I could outrun my own brain.

  Could I trust myself? I didn’t think I’d had enough time to accomplish anything except what I actually remembered doing…

  Oh, God, what if I’d been programmed to steal information when I was in the internet, and deliver it who knew where? Maybe I really was the dangerous criminal the Department had made me out to be.

  Dammit, I needed Skidmark now.

  But even though I trusted him, I couldn’t tell him everything. The network generator and key were so secret that even Holt didn’t know about them. If I told Skidmark, it could very well be considered treason. Canada had abolished capital punishment so I wouldn’t be hanged; but imprisonment would be worse.

  Far worse.

  Claustrophobia clutched my throat and I cast about frantically for other options.

  Kane already knew all about the brainwave-driven network. And no matter how thoroughly programmed I was, he could neutralize me without even breaking a sweat.

  But I shouldn’t involve him. Fatherhood was his top priority, and rightfully so. Endangering him wasn’t fair to him or to Daniel.

  And he was technically a civilian, so disclosing any of this to him might end in a treason charge, too…

  My boots pounded the pavement, shivery weakness stealing through my limbs. Part fear and part hunger.

  …a high-performance machine…

  I shook the thought out of my head, but that only left room for one thought that repeated itself over and over.

  I needed Kane.

  I couldn’t involve him.

  I was so fucked.

  Chapter 31

  Striding up to my motel, I tried to look relaxed and casual while checking every corner, rooftop, and passing vehicle for concealed enemies.

  I saw none, but my back still crawled as I walked to my car and got in. A quick glance at my bug detector reassured me that nobody had stuck a locator device on the car while I was away. Pulling out of the parking lot, I drove a complicated evasive pattern for nearly twenty minutes without spotting any evidence of a tail.

  Somehow that wasn’t as reassuring as it should have been. Was I safe? Or only foolishly oblivious?

  At last I parked the car at a small strip mall a half-block away from the motel. I could still get to it with a short dash, but it wasn’t dangerously exposed in front of my motel room if my cover got blown.

  Dragging my complaining belly out of the car, I trudged back to the small family restaurant that occupied the same lot as the motel. After a lunch that probably would have tasted better if I hadn’t been tensed to flee at the slightest threat, I paid the bill with cash and went into the washroom.

  As I had hoped, its plumbing was of the same vintage as the motel’s. I lifted the lid off the toilet tank and dropped the small bag of metal powder inside. It sank like a stone, and I replaced the lid with a breath of relief.

  If I needed it I could retrieve it; and judging by the ancient mineral deposits caked inside the tank, nobody else was likely to look inside.

  …Unless I’d been programmed to put the bag right here in this toilet tank so someone else could pick it up…

  I stifled a whimper and hurried out to wash my hands, as though soap and water could cleanse them of sins I didn’t know they’d committed.

  By then I had used up enough time to head for Market Mall; and once again I drove a circuitous route. No vehicles seemed to be following me and no helicopters hovered overhead, so at last I made for the mall.

  The parking lot was crammed with cars. Even its farthest reaches were fully occupied, and I circled time and again looking for a parking spot. Cursing the idiots who delayed their Christmas shopping until the last minute, I conveniently ignored the fact that if I hadn’t been running for my life I’d have been one of them.

  But my invective was only half-hearted. At least the crowds would keep me, and my car, safely anonymous.

  If only I could find a goddamn parking spot…

  At last I spotted an SUV pulling out, and I wheeled into its vacated space at ten minutes to two. Feeling as though I had a target painted on my back, I power-walked across the parking lot and into the mall, then forced my stride slower to match the pace of the throng inside.

  My heart thumped harder than necessary as I approached the popcorn stand. Skidmark lounged against the wall nearby, munching handfuls of popcorn from the bag he clutched to his chest. With his ancient parka and the stained rucksack at his feet, he looked exactly like an old vagrant. The fragments of popcorn clinging to his tangle of moustache and beard only heightened the impression.

  His head was hanging nearly low enough to touch his popcorn bag, concealing his keen eyes under shaggy brows. The well-dressed crowd detoured squeamishly around him, leaving a bubble of space that made him far too noticeable.

  Dammit. If I went over to speak to him, I’d be conspicuous.

  I wandered closer, pausing as if to admire an evening gown in one of the store windows. Then I headed for the popcorn stand as though I’d decided on a snack. As I went by Skidmark, I let my step hitch as I shot him a glance, twitching my lip as though I’d just gotten a whiff of something unpleasant.

  Hell, I had. The range of his miasma was clearly outlined by the unoccupied space around him.

  I moved hurriedly out of olfactory range and stepped up to buy my popcorn. My back crawled. Would he accost me like a panhandler? If he did, should I make a show of offering him some spare change, or blow him off? Either way, we’d attract attention.

  He didn’t move.

  I accepted my bag of caramel-coated deliciousness and wandered away, nibbling.

  Hadn’t he noticed me? Maybe my disguise was too good.

  Tucking my popcorn bag under my arm, I went into the nearest glass-fronted store. I browsed slowly through the displays, gradually accomplishing a U-turn so I could look back through the glass as I lifted a sequined top from the rack and held it up as if to gauge its size.

  Skidmark was now leaning against the wall only a few yards away. As I glanced over, he dug a pinkie into his ear and excavated vigorously, then withdrew his finger and studied its burden with interest. When he wiped it on his parka and then delved back into his popcorn bag with the same hand, I had to stifle a snort of laughter in the crook of my elbow.

  “Bless you,” said a cheery voice behind me.

  My heart nearly leaped from my chest as I spun to face a perky saleschild.

  Good Lord, were they hiring ten-year-olds now? A glance at her bountiful boobs convinced me that she actually had hit puberty; or maybe she knew a plastic surgeon with an open mind and defective judgement.

  “Th-thank you,” I stammered.

  “Would you like to try that on?
” She nodded at the sequins clenched in my fist.

  “Um… no, it’s… not for me.”

  The girl looked relieved. Clearly Teresa Diaz was not a good candidate for sequins.

  “It’s for my daughter,” I added. “But…” I held up the garment again, eyeing it critically. “It’s too low-cut. Women should be modest.” I let my frown coast over her generously-displayed cleavage.

  “Oh.” She didn’t quite twitch, but her smile became fixed. “Maybe a nice crew-neck sweater…”

  “No, I don’t think so.” I handed her the sequined top as though it harboured some particularly sordid contagion. “I think I’m in the wrong store.”

  She gave me another plastic smile. “Well, if you see anything you’d like, just let me know. My name is Jessica, and I’ll be happy to help.”

  “Thank you,” I said, and left, pitying the poor kid. What a shitty job. Even though I might be hunted down and killed at any moment, I still wouldn’t want to trade places with her.

  I wandered through another couple of stores, tension aching in my shoulders. Surely by now I had wasted enough time ‘shopping’ and I could leave without arousing suspicion.

  After being cornered by yet another overly-helpful salesperson, I gave up. Enough. I was out of here.

  My feet tried to dash for the exit, but I schooled them to a leisurely stroll. Once outside I picked up my pace to a brisk stride, but stopped as a thought struck me.

  Skidmark wouldn’t be able to keep up. His breathing had been laboured just from walking indoors at the restaurant.

  I paused at the curb and looked both ways as he emerged from the mall doors behind me, rucksack on his shoulder. After I crossed the busy laneway I walked toward my parking spot, but he lagged farther and farther behind.

  Dammit, if I got into my car now, he’d never find me.

  I trailed to a halt, gazing around the parking lot as if in confusion. Don’t mind me; I’m just a ditzy dame who’s forgotten where she parked…

  I started back the way I’d come, then turned away again as Skidmark approached.

  Using up as much time as I could, I wove back and forth between rows as though looking for my car while he plodded closer. When I was sure he’d be able to see which car I was getting into, I raised my key fob and pressed the horn button, giving thanks that I’d gotten an SL2 instead of the base model SL1 that had power-nothing.

  My Saturn obligingly blinked its lights and honked its horn, and I straightened as though in relief and made a beeline for it.

  I slid into the driver’s seat and waited.

  And waited.

  Where the hell was Skidmark?

  Craning my neck to peer in the rearview mirror, I spotted him standing motionless in the next row: head down, hands in front, and legs widespread while incriminating steam rose from the yellow-stained snow at his feet.

  I burst into laughter.

  When he opened the passenger’s door a few minutes later, I was still chuckling. “Jesus, Skidmark,” I sputtered as he leaned over and brushed the popcorn crumbs out of his beard. “You’re fucking disgusting. How can I find you utterly repulsive and like you at the same time?”

  “You love me for my mind, girlie,” he wheezed. “’Cause you know how smart ol’ Skidmark is. Nobody’s ever gonna figure some filthy old druggie is up to anything besides looking for his next fix.” He straightened his parka as though it was a fine tuxedo, his gold tooth glinting in a grin. “I suppose you want me to take this masterpiece off?”

  “God, yes.” I popped the trunk. “Put it in the trunk and put on my spare parka. It’s in the big black backpack.”

  When he slid into the passenger’s seat and closed the door behind him a couple of minutes later, I drew an untainted breath of relief. “Okay, let’s get the hell out of here.”

  “Can’t be too soon for me.” Skidmark shuddered as I reversed the car out of the spot and made for the exit. “Why would anybody go into a place like that? Crammed in there like sardines. I could hardly breathe, and it was nothing to do with my lungs.”

  “Same here,” I agreed.

  He shot me a look. “Nice disguise, by the way. I almost missed you, but I recognized your walk.”

  “Shit.” I slumped. “I should have thought of that.”

  “Hey, don’t beat yourself up. I’ve been playing this game for a long time. Besides, the whole point was for me to recognize you, right?”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  “So what’s the plan?” he asked as I pulled onto the street.

  I sighed. “I don’t have one yet. I need to speak to my contact again, but she’ll be under heavy guard. Maybe I can use you as a diversion and take her somewhere alone…”

  “No, I need to watch you.”

  “I know, but if you’re there she’ll probably clam up; and even if she doesn’t, I’ll be in deep shit if anybody finds out you overheard the classified stuff we need to talk about.”

  “Well, you can’t go in alone. What if you attack her?” He didn’t add ‘again’, but it hovered between us nevertheless.

  “If I attack her it’ll be because she deserves it,” I growled. As Skidmark raised a quizzical eyebrow, I sighed and subsided in the seat. “I think. Maybe.” I sighed again. “Shit.”

  “Do your boys know about the classified stuff?”

  “John does. Arnie doesn’t.”

  “Then you need Kane.”

  I thumped a fist on the steering wheel. “I know I need Kane; but I can’t have him, so forget it.”

  A short pause made me glance over, intercepting Skidmark’s too-perceptive gaze. “We still talking about the mission here?” he inquired mildly.

  “Yes!” I shot him a scowl before returning my attention to the street. “He’s a civilian, and a dad. Off-limits, personally and professionally.”

  “Well, I don’t know about your personal stuff,” Skidmark observed. “But professionally, I’d say you’ve got a duty to call him.”

  “Fuck that,” I snapped. “I’m not going to risk taking Daniel’s father away from him.”

  “So instead you’re gonna take a chance on killing hundreds of other innocent men, women, and children?” Skidmark rasped. “What if you set a bomb somewhere? What if you go on a rampage with an automatic weapon?”

  The thought of the P90 and all its rounds of ammo clenched my guts. My hands quivered on the wheel.

  “Yeah, just think about that for a minute,” Skidmark advised. “And while you’re thinking about that, think about how Kane would feel if he found out you’d murdered innocent people just because you didn’t trust him enough to call him.”

  “It’s nothing to do with trust!” My voice came out too loud, and I drew a short breath and modulated my volume. “He quit the Department. Fatherhood is his top priority. I’m just trying to support that. It’s not fair to call him up and drag him into danger every time I can’t handle my own shit…” Mortifying memories of my partnership with Holt coiled into a corrosive ball in my stomach. “…which is apparently every fucking time a mission comes my way,” I ground out. “And I am fucking sick and tired of screwing up and having to be rescued.”

  Skidmark’s voice softened. “You didn’t screw up, and you’re not asking to be rescued. A good agent stays focused on the results and asks for help when they need it.”

  I held my face expressionless and my shoulders square, concealing the way my heart flinched from the blow. Yet another reason why I just wasn’t good enough.

  “Hey, Storm.” I didn’t glance over, but I could see Skidmark frowning in my peripheral vision. “I know you’re a good agent,” he said. “There’re only two reasons why a good agent wouldn’t ask for help. One’s ego; and I don’t think that’s your problem. The other’s that they’ve been burned so bad they don’t dare take another chance. Girlie, if that’s your problem you’ve gotta let it go. If you don’t it’ll eat you up inside. And if you let it compromise a mission, it’ll kill you. Or somebody you care about.”r />
  “Right. Thanks for the advice,” I said shortly.

  “It’s your duty to talk to Kane,” he persisted. “And he needs to decide for himself whether to get involved. You think you’re doing the right thing for him, but how would you feel if he made that kind of decision for you?”

  “Shut up,” I grated.

  Much to my surprise, he did.

  Chapter 32

  Skidmark and I drove in silence for several minutes while guilt gnawed a burning hollow in my belly.

  “Oh, for Christ’s sake!” I barked at last. “Fine!”

  I cranked the wheel over and parked in the nearest convenience store lot, then took out a burner phone and sent a text to Kane’s number: “Spider web. Vet displacement. Eyes on.”

  I got out of the car and headed for the garbage bin; but jerked to an abrupt halt as a black half-ton barrelled past, nearly running me over.

  “Asshole!” I yelled, and pitched the burner phone into the bed of the pickup.

  My lips twisted into a savage smile as the driver gave me the finger and roared onto the street, fishtailing and revving the engine. He couldn’t have spotted my license plate as he blew by, so my cover was safe.

  And he was going to get a hell of a surprise when Holt traced that burner phone.

  Still grinning, I got back into my car and pulled sedately out of the lot to head in the opposite direction.

  “You look like the cat the swallowed the canary,” Skidmark said. “Why?”

  “I texted Kane. I’m pretty sure Holt will intercept the message and trace it back to that burner phone. And Dickwad there in the black pickup is now carrying that burner phone away to somewhere we aren’t. Holt will put somebody on Kane for sure; but I bet he’ll follow that phone himself. He’ll want to take all the credit for capturing me.” My grin widened. “And he’ll be pissed as hell when he finds out he’s gone on a wild goose chase.”

  “Who’s Holt?”

  “The agent who’s in charge of hunting me. He’s got an ego problem, but he’s good.” My smile drooped. “Shit. Probably too good. He’ll know I’m not dumb enough to keep a burner phone active after sending a text. He’s not going to be fooled. Damn.”