Once Burned, Twice Spy

by Diane Henders

  “Can Kane outfox him? Outrun him?”

  “If it was just him and Holt, probably. But if Holt’s got a team…”

  Skidmark frowned. “If Kane’s as good as you say, he won’t lead them to you. When and where is our rendezvous?”

  I sighed. “Well, if he figured out my message, he should be at a coffee shop where we met a couple of years ago; at four-twenty-seven this afternoon; and he should know he’s being watched so he’ll make sure he’s not followed.”

  “Four-twenty-seven?” Skidmark eyed me. “That’s a pretty specific time.”

  “It’s the engine displacement of my ’66 Corvette. I purposely misspelled ’Vette, so I hope he got it.”

  “He’ll get it if he has a brain,” Skidmark muttered, then added, “Nice wheels, girlie. You’re lucky it’s winter, or I’d have taken a joyride in that ’Vette instead of your Legacy.”

  I laughed. “Lucky for you it’s winter. If you touched my baby, I’d probably have to kill you.”

  He wheezed laughter. “It’d be worth it.”

  When I pulled into the parking lot of the strip mall that housed our meeting place, Skidmark jabbed a nicotine-stained finger at the far side of the lot. “Park over there by the garbage dumpsters.”

  “Like I have a choice,” I groused. “It’s the only friggin’ spot available. What’s wrong with these people? Don’t they have homes?”

  Skidmark grunted. “Yep. Homes crammed full of shit they don’t need; and they’re busy buying up a bunch more shit for other people who don’t need any more shit; and those same people are buying them a big pile of useless shit in return. Merry goddamn Christmas.”

  I parked and turned to him, widening my eyes as if in wonder. “Wow. Can I call you Santa Claus?”

  He snorted, then gripped my arm as I reached for the door handle. “You stay here, girlie. I’ll do the rendezvous.”

  I bit off my instinctive argument and considered for a moment. He was right, of course.

  I sighed. “Okay. Thanks. Here…” I pulled out a burner phone and programmed the number of my current burner into its speed dial. “When you get to the coffee shop, phone me and leave the connection open. That way I’ll know what’s going on.”

  He gave me a ferocious scowl. “What’s going on is just me making contact and getting out. If anything else happens, you drive the hell out of this parking lot without looking back, you hear me? Even if they catch me talking to Kane, they won’t connect me with you as long as you don’t come charging in there.”

  “I know. I’ll just wait here.”

  He studied me, eyes shrewd beneath his tangled brows. “Give me your word.”

  I hissed out a breath. “Okay. Fine. I give you my word.”

  He scowled. “You’ve got your fingers crossed inside your mittens, don’t you?”

  “No.” I crossed them harder.

  He raised a skeptical eyebrow and got out of the car. I popped the trunk so he could swap parkas again, and a few moments later the trunk slammed and I watched in the rearview mirror while he trudged across the parking lot.

  When he arrived at the coffee shop he detoured to the garbage can and spent a few leisurely minutes digging through it. He drew out some unidentifiable piece of garbage, studied it for a moment, and then put it in the same pocket as the burner phone I’d given him. A moment later my phone rang.

  I shuddered as I accepted the call and put it on speaker. If he gave me back that phone, I’d bleach it.

  The speaker hissed and rumbled as the phone shifted in his pocket. He mooched toward the door and disappeared inside.

  A moment later, a muffled version of his slurred voice drifted to my ears. “Pretty lady. The Earth Spirit names you Bellavista Dreamwalker. Your planet is blue Venus.” A moment later he spoke again. “Good sir. The Earth Spirit names you Stonemountain Warrior. Your planet is orange Mars.” A wheezy chuckle. “Well, hello, little lady. The Earth Spirit names you Meadowsweet Stardancer, and your planet is purple Pluto.”

  A child’s giggle pierced the speaker, followed by a high voice that carried with unfortunate clarity. “Mummy, that man’s stinky.”

  The maternal response was blurred as Skidmark apparently moved away. He anointed a few other people, with responses varying from silence to uncomfortable giggles to ‘get lost’. Then he announced, “Good sir. The Earth Spirit names you Sunstar Desert Hawk, and your planet is gold Saturn.”

  I held my breath. Kane was there.

  But had he been able to evade Holt’s surveillance?

  Kane’s unmistakeable baritone rumbled through the speaker. “That’s interesting, but you’re making people uncomfortable in here. How would it be if I buy you a coffee and we go outside?”

  Skidmark’s wheezy rasp took on a wheedling note. “Good sir, you are gold indeed. It’s cold outside for an old man’s bones, and a coffee would ease the chill.”

  “Well, come on then. Let’s get you a coffee.” Kane’s tone was indulgent, and I imagined the rest of the patrons eyeing him with gratitude for handling the awkward situation.

  While they waited for the coffee, Skidmark accosted a couple more people. Kane made gentle attempts to quell him, completely believable in his role as self-appointed rescuer.

  A few minutes later they emerged together. Kane held the door for Skidmark, who shuffled out with both hands wrapped around his paper cup as though desperate for the warmth.

  I realized with a pang that he probably was. He couldn’t move fast enough to stay warm. I cranked the heater up higher and watched the performance in my rearview mirror.

  “There you go,” Kane said kindly. “You know where the homeless shelter is, don’t you?”

  “Don’t need it, good sir. I have a home, but thankee anyway.”

  “Well, you’d better go home,” Kane advised. “It’s too cold to be outside.”

  “That it is, that it is. May the Earth Spirit guide and protect you, good sir.” Skidmark nodded and shuffled away.

  Kane stood at the doorway for a few moments, watching as though making sure Skidmark didn’t double back to harass the coffee shop patrons again. But I was pretty sure he was triangulating the path to a gold Saturn.

  When Skidmark was about halfway across the parking lot, Kane went back inside.

  I kept an eye on the coffee shop, but Kane hadn’t come out again by the time Skidmark opened the passenger door and collapsed gasping into the seat.

  Worry chilled my heart as I tried to study him and watch the rearview mirror at the same time. “Are you okay?” I asked as he hunched forward, wheezing frighteningly fast.

  “Fine.” But his panting didn’t slow. “Damn… cold… thin air,” he gasped between breaths. “All right… in a… minute…”

  It was more than minute. By the time his respiration finally slowed to its usual slightly accelerated tempo, I was on the verge of taking him to the hospital. In the enclosed space the reek of his parka was nearly overpowering, but I didn’t have the heart to send him outside again to change it.

  He opened the passenger door, letting in a merciful breath of fresh air while he hawked and spat into the parking lot, then settled back in the seat with a groan. “Forgot to take that damn bronchodilator this afternoon.” He extracted a puffer from his pocket and sucked in a dose, then coughed feebly. “Damn.”

  “Do you need to-” I began, but Skidmark cut me off with a sharp gesture.

  “He’s on the move,” he croaked. “Get ready to drive.”

  Sure enough, Kane had emerged from the coffee shop and was crossing the parking lot in the opposite direction. When he got into a rusted brown half-ton, I let out a breath of relief.

  “That’s not his truck,” I told Skidmark. “So he got the message about being followed.”

  “Yeah. Let’s hope he shook the tail,” he replied grimly. “Let’s go.”

  I pulled out and drove toward the exit, gratified to see the brown half-ton drop in behind me a few vehicles back.

  “He’s
good,” I assured Skidmark.

  “Better than the guys who are following him?”

  “Yeah. I’d stake my life on it.”

  Skidmark grunted. “You probably are. Where are we headed?”

  After a moment of thought I said, “Nose Hill Park. It’s usually abandoned when it’s this cold; we’ll have a good view around us so nobody can sneak up; and it’s got good road access if we have to run.”

  “Sounds good. The only running I’m going to do is in this car.” He sounded a little less breathless. The inhaler must have been working.

  Skidmark and I both kept a sharp eye out for followers while I drove, but saw none. I knew Kane would be doing the same, and I gave silent thanks for both men. As long as we weren’t being tracked electronically, we were probably in the clear. For now.

  By the time we approached the park, the sky was already darkening. In the failing light the vehicles around us faded to amorphous gray shapes behind too-bright headlights, and I peered at them until my eyes ached. Would I even be able to recognize a tail in the darkness?

  We pulled to a stop in the deserted parking lot, and a moment later a dark half-ton pulled in behind us. It parked a couple of slots away, and I drew a breath of relief when Kane’s familiar broad-shouldered form got out and strode over.

  I opened the door and pulled out my bug detector, activating it to display the steady green light while Skidmark looked on with interest.

  “Good,” Kane said. “May I borrow it?”

  I handed it over and watched while he hurried back to his truck. As he completed a circuit around it his steps slowed, and I whooshed out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.

  He returned at an easier pace, sliding into the back seat with his usual powerful athleticism despite the cramped quarters.

  “All clear,” he said as he handed the device back to me. “What’s happening?”

  I swallowed a small twinge of hurt at his brusqueness, but hell, we might only have minutes to spare. No point in wasting time with pleasantries.

  Or with a hug or kiss.

  Arnie wouldn’t consider a hug and kiss a waste of time…

  “Take these,” I said, matching Kane’s impersonal tone as I handed the network key and generator over the seat to him. “Don’t let me have them back unless you’re sure I need them. And don’t let me do anything unless I can convince you that it’s the best course of action. Use deadly force to stop me if necessary.”

  “What? Aydan, what’s happening?” he demanded. But he pocketed the two small devices without question.

  Relieved of my burdens, I sagged in the driver’s seat. “Sam might have embedded secret programming in my mind. My mother, who was supposed to have died in a fiery car crash thirty years ago but instead faked her death and ran off with Sam, resurfaced last night to warn me about it; and MI6, the CIA, the FBI, the Department, the RCMP, and the Calgary police are all hunting me because they think I’ve gone rogue. And…” My voice wobbled despite my attempt to keep it level. “I might have.”

  Chapter 33

  A short shocked silence greeted my revelations. Fortunately it gave me a chance to gather my thoughts. Dammit, Kane and Hellhound didn’t know Skidmark was an agent. They still thought he was a wasted old stoner.

  I added, “Skidmark is helping me but I can’t tell him anything about, um… anything.”

  I added a stern psychic message: Don’t mention that Stemp is the Director.

  Apparently Kane got the message. “Skidmark, it’s nice to see you again,” he said cautiously. “Are you here visiting for Christmas?”

  “Yeah.” Skidmark gave a slow-motion shrug, his words blurring into his stoned-old-man routine. “With Moonbeam and Karma. It’s not cool, man. Our kid’s got a major stick up his ass.” He gave me a heavy-eyed look and added plaintively, “If I’d known Storm wouldn’t let me toke up, I’d have stayed in Silverside.”

  “No marijuana,” I said sternly. “No smoking at all.”

  “Bummer,” he mumbled, and poked morosely in his parka pocket as if hoping to find a forgotten doobie.

  Kane shot him an appraising look before returning his attention to me. “How much does he know?”

  “I had to tell him I’m an agent. That’s all,” I lied, trying to hide my discomfort. Dammit, I didn’t want to lie to Kane, but Skidmark’s cover wasn’t mine to divulge.

  “And you believed her?” Kane demanded of Skidmark.

  Skidmark yawned. “Son, I believe in pink elephants. See ’em all the time. If Storm’s a spy, it’s cool with me.” He let one eyelid droop in a conspiratorial wink and added, “I did a bit of cloak-and-dagger stuff myself back in the day. Used it to dodge out of getting sent to ’Nam.”

  Kane’s lips tightened.

  I longed to blurt the truth of Skidmark’s dangerous tours of duty in Vietnam and subsequent decades of dedicated service, but my promise to maintain his cover kept me silent.

  “All right,” Kane said shortly. “Give me the details.”

  I sighed. “My mother is using the name Nora Taylor. She’s staying at the Palliser downtown, and she’ll be under constant surveillance. She says she can tell me what the programming is and how to overcome it, so I need to talk to her as soon as possible.”

  Kane frowned. “We’ll come back to that. You said you might have gone rogue. What did you mean?”

  “Actually, I think I’m being framed… but… I just… I don’t know for sure. I got shot up with ketamine yesterday, and right after that there was, um… a theft. I’m almost positive I didn’t do it, but the ketamine knocked me out and caused amnesia, so I can’t say for absolutely certain. And later, after I’d talked to Nora the first time, she got shot up with ketamine, too. Everybody thinks I injected myself so I wouldn’t get blamed for the theft, and then injected Nora later for reasons unknown. Oh, and they think I knocked out…”

  I bit off ‘Ian Rand’ at the last instant. Kane had never known Ian’s real name; and Skidmark knew it all too well. And if I mentioned Orion Moonjava, Kane would realize that Skidmark knew more than he should…

  I massaged the headache that had begun to thump between my eyes and substituted, “…another agent… to get to Nora.”

  “Who exactly is ‘everybody’?” Kane inquired.

  “Well, everybody except, um, the Director,” I said, not looking at Skidmark. “I passed a lie detector test after the theft,” I added hurriedly. “So the Director believes I’m innocent; and he’s the one who gave me the, um… items I gave you… and told me to go off-grid and investigate. So as far as anybody knows, I’m only following orders.”

  “Oh.” Kane’s posture eased. “When you said you might have gone rogue, I wondered…”

  I followed his train of thought with rising chagrin. “Oh! No! Shit, no; I’m not asking you to hide me or take sides against the Department. I’m sorry; I should have explained better. I would never put you in that position. I just want you to keep me from doing anything… bad. If I’ve been programmed.”

  Kane’s face relaxed for the first time. “That’s a relief. But if the Director believes you and you’re under orders to stay dark, why are half the law enforcement agencies in the western hemisphere hunting you?”

  I glanced at Skidmark’s sleepy face and alert eyes and told half the truth. “The Director is having some problems with the chain of command. And the, um… theft… involved U.S. property, and they’ve demanded my extradition. Even though I passed the lie detector, they don’t consider the test valid.”

  Because the Department wouldn’t disclose how our classified technology worked. And that technology was my only defense.

  The thought of it made my throat constrict.

  My voice pitched higher as I went on, “The chain of command has already issued a warrant for me, and…”

  Despite my attempts to stay cool, all my bottled-up fear rushed out. “John, our extradition process is a joke! There was this guy, a Canadian citizen, who was accused as a terr
orist and the only evidence against him was a couple of hand-printed sentences on a hotel phone pad. Two out of five handwriting experts said it wasn’t even his writing; and they extradited him anyway. They rubber-stamp nearly every request! And if I get shipped to the States, they’ll never let me go!”

  Kane looked as grim as I felt. “Yes, I remember that case.”

  My heart sank. He hadn’t even offered a token reassurance. He knew I was in deep shit.

  But he didn’t know how deep.

  I drew a shaky breath and enlightened him. “And there’s another complication. If it looks as though my extradition will be approved, I… likely won’t make it out of the country.”

  Kane’s jaw clenched and he gave a short nod. He might not know all of Stemp’s reasons for keeping me in Canada; but he knew about all the other classified knowledge in my brain. ‘Extradition’ would be nothing more than a polite euphemism for ‘execution’.

  “And you said the Department has already issued a warrant for you,” he said tightly. “Who is the agent in charge?”

  “Holt.”

  Kane considered that, drumming his fingertips on his knee. “He’s a good agent, but his weakness is ego. We can use that.”

  “You know this Holt guy?” Skidmark inquired.

  Stirring the pot. He already knew Kane used to be an agent, but he was pressing to see if Kane would admit it.

  Kane eyed him, and I wondered whether Skidmark’s cover was as secure as he thought. Many people might disregard or underestimate a disgusting old man; but Kane was not one of them.

  “Yes,” Kane said without elaborating. He turned back to me. “So what identity are you using?”

  I suddenly remembered my unflattering makeup. Jeez, no wonder he didn’t want to kiss me.

  “I’m Teresa Diaz. The car is legally registered to me, and I have a motel room rented for the rest of the week.” I hesitated. “It’s not a Department identity.”