by Nic Saint
Frank once again strained his neck to glance at Izzy. “We don’t usually get shot at, you know. Only very rarely so, in fact. Isn’t that right, Matt?”
“Yeah. We’re more a cloak and dagger type of operation. Except for today and yesterday, I can count the number of times I’ve had to take out my gun on the fingers of one hand.”
He sank back in his seat. He’d only known Yvonne Assenheimer two days, and already he’d been kicked, shot and pummeled more times than in the entire year before. The woman clearly loved living on the edge. And the strange thing? He kinda liked the surge of adrenaline she’d brought to his life. He hadn’t lied. Their work was more analyst than field agent. Surveillance. Collecting data. Drawing conclusions. The real action was farmed out to a team of field agents. The tactical guys, who acted upon the intelligence they’d gathered. For some reason, he had the distinct impression that ASS would quickly prove to be too boring for Yvonne and Izzy. Oh, hell. He needed an aspirin. Or two.
Frank’s voice intruded upon his reverie. “Why weren’t you two at ASS? Did you tell them to meet you down at the alley, Matt?”
“I didn’t.”
“It’s the address we got. We thought the alley was the entrance to the ASS compound.”
Matt frowned. Weird. “Who gave you that address?”
“You did, remember?”
“I remember giving you a note yesterday. I’m pretty sure it held the right directions.”
“Yes, but then you sent us that email.”
Alarmed, Matt looked up. “Email? I never sent you any email.”
“You wrote that plans had changed, and to meet you downtown.”
She held out her smartphone, and quickly brought up her email app. He blankly stared at the email, then tapped the screen to check the sender’s information. His email address. His jaw set. “I didn’t send this.”
“Then who did?”
He exchanged a glance of alarm with Frank. “Someone who wanted the op to go south.”
Chapter 13
“I think it’s a conspiracy.”
Izzy had it all worked out in her head. Someone—possibly this Fatik fellow, or perhaps this Grant guy—had infiltrated the ASS and was sabotaging the investigation from within.
Yvonne stared at her, wide-eyed, over a cup of coffee. “You think so?”
Izzy didn’t have to think long. “I know so.” She gestured at the small cafeteria Matt had led them to while he checked up on the email mystery. “This place? Has been compromised.”
“Compromised.” Yvonne shook her long blond tresses. “Listening to you, Iz, I’d swear you’ve been doing this spy stuff for ages.”
Izzy shrugged. “Spend enough time watching spy shows, and you pick up a couple of things.”
“That’s what I get from watching soap operas. I don’t know anything about espionage.”
“Just follow my lead, hon. I know all there is to know. Like…” She leaned closer, and dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I just know this place is bugged! I bet there’s cameras and listening devices everywhere!” And to demonstrate the fact, she let her eyes roam the cafeteria, as if looking for hidden cameras and other bugging devices.
“You think so?” Yvonne stared down at her cup of coffee, as if half expecting a complete camera crew to appear.
“Every move we make, every word we say, it’s all being recorded for later analysis.”
“But why? Why do they want to know what we have to say?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
“Um. No?”
“We’re the femme fatales of the operation, V. And femme fatales always know.”
“Know? Know what?”
Izzy threw up her arms. “Everything! Very soon now, Hottie Matt will spill his most intimate secrets to you, and Hottie Frank will do the same with me. And before we know it—or even want it—we’ll know more about this place than anyone alive.” She jabbed a finger at the robust coffee machine. “And they know this. That’s why they’re following us.”
Yvonne squinted at the coffee machine. “I don’t know about Hottie Matt, but that Frank guy? He couldn’t keep his eyes off you all through the drive over here.”
“I know. I caught him watching me through the rear-view mirror.”
“He’s kinda cute, isn’t he?”
“I like him. If he would ask me out on a date, I wouldn’t think twice. What about you and Hottie Matt?”
Yvonne grimaced. “I don’t think he likes me very much. Men don’t like it when women kick their ass.”
“Some men do.”
“I don’t think he’s that type of man. And besides, I’m pretty sure he thinks I’m ugly.” She slumped a bit in her seat.
“Nonsense. I’ve seen him look at you. I’m sure he thinks you’re hot.”
“No, he doesn’t. He thinks I’m fat. All the guys think I’m fat. Because I am fat,” she added in a demonstration of irrefutable logic.
“How many times do I have to tell you, V. You’re not fat. You’re big-boned. If I had bones like you, you wouldn’t call me fat, would you?”
Yvonne shrugged. “I guess not.”
“Well, then? Hottie Matt likes you and Hottie Frank likes me,” she said adamantly. “We’re ASS femme fatales, that’s what we are. Now all we need to find out is who’s trying to sabotage us.”
“I think I’m the one trying to sabotage this operation.” Yvonne shook her head sadly. “I keep messing up. First I beat up Hottie Matt yesterday, and now I beat up that civil servant person and that creepy bike messenger?”
Izzy could see her friend was suffering, and she reached out a hand and gave her arm a tight squeeze. “You saved our lives, V. You didn’t mess up. If it hadn’t been for you, that creepy bike messenger guy would have shot us stone cold dead.”
“I don’t think so,” Yvonne countered. “Hottie Matt would have sprung up from his hiding place and kicked that creep’s butt. He was just biding his time until he was close enough.” She nodded. “Yep. Hottie Matt would have saved us if I hadn’t gone and screwed things up.”
Izzy patted her friend’s arm. “Don’t say such things. It makes me feel sad when you talk like that.”
“It makes me feel sad when I talk like that.”
“Then don’t,” Izzy suggested reasonably. “You know it’s not true. You saved our lives and that’s how it is. Nothing you say can make me change my mind about that. You’re a real hero, V, and I’m proud to be your friend.”
“Aww, that’s nice of you to say, Iz.”
“It’s the truth.”
“Aww.”
“It is.” She suddenly raised her voice. “Good thing we caught that spy, huh?”
“Huh?”
Izzy gestured at the coffee machine, which she felt was the most likely suspect to conceal a camera.
Yvonne quickly caught on. “Oh. Oh! Oh, yes. Good thing we caught that nasty spy!”
“We caught him all right. Red-handed!” She quickly rose to her feet, and moved over to the coffee machine, giving Yvonne a conspiratorial wink.
“We caught him with his hands down the cookie jar!” bellowed Yvonne, also extracting her bulk from the chair and toddling over to the coffee machine.
“I’m gonna give you a big clue now, V.”
“A big clue?”
“Yeah. The biggest clue. So you listen carefully now, huh?”
“Uh-huh.”
She quickly mouthed ‘one-two-three’, then both women suddenly pounced on the coffee machine.
“Gotcha!” screeched Izzy.
“Busted!” boomed Yvonne.
Izzy slapped the top of the machine, while Yvonne wriggled its snout. Nothing happened.
“It’s inside the machine!” yelled Izzy, her cheeks glowing red.
“Stand back!” growled Yvonne, and yanked a small cannon from her pocket.
Izzy squealed. “You go, girl!”
Yvonne raised the pea-shooter to eye level and took direct aim at
the coffee machine. “Take this, you scum!”
“What’s going—”
Izzy turned to see who’d joined him just when Yvonne fired the first round. There was a sound like a minor gas explosion, and the next moment, the coffee maker erupted into a geyser of coffee spraying in every direction.
“Hey! What do you think you’re doing!”
“Oh, hi, Hottie Matt, I mean Agent Matt. We’re just—Eeeek!”
Yvonne had taken aim, and directed another shot at the coffeemaker, then kept on squeezing the trigger, sending round after round tearing through the machine. Smoke funneled out of the appliance, and water sprayed all over as Yvonne blasted away, the gunshots thundering through the cafeteria.
Finally, the noise died away, and Yvonne lowered the gun tentatively, still squinting at the machine, daring it to retaliate.
“What the hell!” cried Matt, holding an empty mug in his hand.
“We caught the machine spying on us, Agent Matt,” squeaked Izzy, a little breathless.
“Spying? You caught the coffee machine spying on you?”
Izzy thought for a moment the man might explode. His face was all red and the veins on his temples were throbbing. But instead of spontaneously self-combusting, he stalked up to Yvonne and quickly wrested the gun from her fingers, then dropped it.
“Ouch!”
He stood blowing his fingers and glaring at Yvonne.
“You shouldn’t do that, Agent Matt,” commented Yvonne, pointing at the gun. “The barrel is hot from all that shooting.”
“I know that!” he growled. “Where did you get this gun?”
“Oh. Agent Frank gave it to me.”
“Frank—Frank gave this to you! Frank gave this to you!”
“He said it was standard issue.”
“He said—he said it was standard issue! He said it was standard issue!”
Izzy took out her own gun and showed it to Agent Matt. “I also got one, Agent Matt, but I haven’t used it yet.”
Matt changed his balance to favor his other leg, and nodded furiously. “You—you also got one! You also got one!”
Izzy thought it weird that Matt kept repeating his sentences. Perhaps he had suffered some form of brain damage from all those blows to the head? She decided not to voice that suspicion just then. The man seemed very upset for some reason.
Yvonne walked over to the coffee machine and gave it a once-over.
“Do you see any spies lurking inside the coffee maker?” yelled Matt.
“I’m not sure.” She gave the entire contraption a pull, and it fell to the floor with a crash. She eyed the tangle of wires and tubes suspiciously. “I’m no expert, though. I think we should have it looked at. By an expert.”
“By an—by an expert! You want to have the coffee machine looked at by an expert!”
“Yeah. Better ship it off to the lab. You do have a lab, don’t you, Matt?”
Izzy nodded vigorously. “And while you’re at it, Agent Matt, I think it would be best if you had this entire place swept for bugs. There must be hundreds of them.”
Yvonne pointed at her friend. “What she said.”
Matt babbled something unintelligible for a moment, then threw his hands in the air, and stalked out.
Izzy directed a critical eye at the man’s back. “He’s acting real strange, V. I’m not sure he didn’t sustain no brain damage.”
Yvonne eyed her blankly. “I’m not sure, either.”
Chapter 14
“I think we’re heading for disaster.”
Matt shook his head dazedly. He’d still not recovered from the coffee machine incident.
“Are you sure the machine didn’t hold the alleged spy equipment?”
Matt slammed his hand down on his desk. “It’s a coffee machine, Frank! Just a regular, dumb coffee machine!”
Frank held up his hands. “Just asking, Matt. I mean, if Yvonne and Izzy think there’s a camera hidden inside it, there must be some truth to the matter.”
“You know? I’m starting to think there’s something really, really wrong here.” Matt sniffed the air. “Something stinks, Frank.”
Frank wiggled his nose and inhaled sharply. “You sure? I don’t smell it.”
Matt ground his teeth. “Speaking figuratively here, Frank. Stay with me on this, all right?”
Frank blinked. “Okay, Matt.”
“Where did this intel come from in the first place?”
Frank’s brow furrowed as he thought about this. “Um. Izzy?” He jumped when Matt slammed the desk again.
“Exactly! So what does that tell us?”
“Um… That even top agents can make mistakes?”
“No! That she’s a nutcase!”
“But, chief,” sputtered Frank. “She’s a highly decorated field agent. Best of the best of the best. And all that.”
Matt steepled his fingers, and jabbed his index fingers into the hollow beneath his chin, a process that sometimes enabled him to think things through. “I wonder, Frank.”
“Wonder? Wonder what, chief?”
“Wonder if all those years out there taking down the scum of the world hasn’t damaged those two beyond repair.”
“Damaged? Damaged how?”
“I’m not discounting the fact that Yvonne and Izzy are top agents. But sometimes even the best can crack under the strain. Could it be—and I’m just spit-balling here so bear with me—but could it be that those two are really damaged goods? And the only reason they’ve been assigned to us is to get rid of them? A graceful golden handshake for two great assets?”
Frank shook his head. “Gee, boss, I really don’t think so. I mean, if you see what Yvonne did this morning—taking down that Fatik singlehandedly. That doesn’t strike me as the work of a woman who’s at the end of her game.”
“Mh… Then how do you explain the coffee machine?”
“I think we need to have it rechecked. If Izzy says there’s a bug inside that thing, I’m sure there is a bug inside that thing.”
Matt rubbed his chin, then heaved a weary sigh. “Very well. I’ll have it shipped to the lab.”
Frank’s face lit up. “Thank you.” He quickly rose to his feet. “You won’t regret it, Matt. I have the greatest confidence in our two new assets. The greatest confidence.”
After Frank had left, Matt still sat staring in front of him with unseeing eyes, replaying the movie of the past events in his head. Yvonne taking out that Fatik guy. Yvonne shooting the hell out of that coffee machine. That woman definitely was a force to be reckoned with. The way she’d tipped over that dumpster. Incredible piece of work. He couldn’t deny experiencing a tremor of excitement when he watched her at work.
Focused, undeterred, unafraid of anyone or anything… He had to admit he liked her. Liked her a lot, in fact. He’d never been one to fall for a colleague. They were here to get the job done, and developing feelings for a fellow agent was simply bad procedure. It distracted you from the work, made you lose focus, and generally turned a great agent into a bumbling fool.
But he couldn’t deny the stirrings of something deep and tender when he watched her shoot the crap out of that coffee machine. The way she fired round after round… A sudden urge to ask her out to the gun range swept over him. He suppressed it. Allowing his heart to interfere with his work was simply too dangerous.
He rose to his feet and shook his hands, in an attempt to rid himself of these unwanted emotions. But no matter how hard he tried to stomp down on his heart’s desires, that still little voice inside kept piping up.
How would she look with safety goggles? Or handling an assault rifle? Or better yet, how would she look with her hands clasped around the cold, hard steel of a mortar shell? Or those strong fingers pulling the pin from a grenade? He shivered with anticipation.
Oh, God. He was in big trouble, wasn’t he?
To escape those unwanted feelings, he plunked down in his chair once again, and stabbed at the space bar to wake up his PC. He’d st
arted typing a report about that morning’s events to Kathleen Harridan but then the coffee machine incident had waylaid him.
He was just opening the file when his phone rang.
“Halloran.”
“Harridan. We need to meet, Matt. Face to face.”
“Time? Place?”
“Fortune Tower. Now.”
She disconnected and Matt sat staring at his phone for a moment. Fortune Tower? National Park? Why would she want to meet there?
He shrugged, knowing better than to question the sanity of his superiors, and switched off his PC. As he was slipping into his jacket, he suddenly got an idea. Why didn’t he ask Yvonne to join him? They could case the park, practice some counter-espionage moves, and he could introduce her to Harridan.
With an annoyed grunt, he quickly dismissed the idea. “Keep this up, Matt, and you’ll be watching Hugh Grant movies next.”
And with a final look around his office, he strode out, slamming the door behind him.
Chapter 15
Yvonne sat nursing her water bottle and staring at the screen. Frank’s voice droned on and on and she was having a hard time staying awake. For the last two hours, they’d been cooped up in the compound’s conference room for their first session of instruction on all things ASS.
“So you see, the technology led us to set up this operation as no one else would see the merits.” The gangly agent swung his pointer at the whiteboard and tapped it smartly on a picture of some blonde babe. “Kathleen Harridan breathed life into this project when no one else would. She is, therefore, a true visionary.”
Visionary or not, Yvonne had a hard time keeping her eyes open. She gave Izzy a light shove, which made her friend’s head bob, almost hitting the table. She was clearly suffering from the same boredom issues as Yvonne.
“Ugh?” she muttered, and licked her lips.
“You think we could still get our old jobs back?”
“Why? You wanna bail out?”
“Come on, Iz. This is soooo boring!”
“Now we come to the technology that lays at the heart of ASS,” Frank intoned, unaware that the attention of his audience was slipping. With a swing of his hand, he tapped a key on his laptop, and a new slide appeared on the whiteboard. It depicted Tom Cruise.