Licensed to Spy

by Barbara Davies

  “Sorry,” managed Ash, feeling like a stranded fish gasping for air. But as she raised herself onto her hands and knees, she inhaled a lungful of brick-dust …

  The coughing fit passed, and Ash wiped the tears from her eyes and could breathe again. The shower of debris had stopped. She lifted her head and surveyed the scene. The steps up to her flat remained intact. But what had once been its front door and wall was now a gaping hole.

  Chapter 8

  JEMMA AWOKE TO find herself wrapped around Ash. It was getting to be a habit, she mused, smoothing her fingers over warm skin. A very nice habit. For several minutes, she revelled in the presence and solidity of her partner, inhaling her familiar scent and the faint musk of sex.

  They had made love twice by candlelight—the first time a fevered, almost desperate coupling that served to reassure Jemma they were still alive, the second a more slow and tender affair. Afterwards, exhausted emotionally and physically, she’d had energy only to blow out the candles before closing heavy eyelids and sleeping like a log.

  Yawning, she gathered her courage to face another day. How did that Chinese curse go? “May you live in interesting times.” Recent events had certainly been interesting. In fact she would very much welcome a period of uninteresting from now on.

  Within her arms, Ash stirred. Jemma pressed a kiss between her shoulder blades, released her, and rolled back to her side of the bed.

  Thud.

  The drop wasn’t much, a matter of twenty inches or so, and a familiar, nasty rug broke her fall. But the unexpectedness of it stole Jemma’s breath away. Idiot.

  The duvet rustled, and Ash’s tousled head blocked Jemma’s view of the sloping ceiling. “What are you doing on the floor?”

  “Um. Forgot I wasn’t at your place.”

  Ash scratched her nose. “Ah.” She reached out a hand and Jemma used it to pull herself to her feet. “Your bed is a bit smaller than mine.” She made room for Jemma to sit and draped an arm round her.

  Jemma enjoyed the feel of Ash’s nakedness against her—even if Ash had wanted a sleep-shirt, one of Jemma’s would have been too small. “A bit? I don’t think my landlady could have got a double bed in here if she tried.”

  Ash’s gaze flicked round the cramped room which, being on the top floor, was too hot in summer and too cold in winter. Jemma imagined it through Ash’s eyes and winced. Candlelight had hidden a multitude of sins. Now, daylight revealed the rickety furniture, faded wallpaper, and the stain in the corner where the roof had once leaked. And beneath the acrid scent of melted candlewax she could smell the ever-present odour from the Chinese takeaway two doors down.

  “Cosy,” said Ash.

  “Cheap,” countered Jemma.

  “Hey.” Ash gave her shoulder a squeeze. “I grew up in worse, remember? At least you don’t have to share the bathroom.”

  “Shower room.”

  Ash frowned her to silence. “You’ve got a proper kitchen too. As affordable places in London go, this isn’t bad at all.”

  Relief washed over Jemma. “Thanks. I’m hoping I can afford somewhere nicer soon.”

  “You could always move in with me.”

  Jemma’s heart pounded. Was Ash being serious?

  “ … except that my place was just blown up by a bomb.”

  She was only joking. Jemma hid her disappointment. “That is a slight disadvantage.”

  Jemma had accompanied Ash while she surveyed the aftermath of the blast, her eyes cold, her expression grim. The hall was a ruin and so was the high-ceilinged sitting room that overlooked Albert Terrace. Brick dust and flakes of plaster coated what had once been furniture and possessions, most now unsalvageable.

  “At least the kitchen and bedroom were unscathed,” she offered by way of consolation.

  “I suppose that’s something. Still, I’d better find myself a hotel room.”

  Jemma blinked. “I know it’s cramped, but wouldn’t it make more sense for you to stay here?” She tried to gauge Ash’s reaction. Was that nervousness in the eyes gazing back at her, tension in the set of the shoulders? “Just until your place is habitable.”

  The clarification made all the difference. Ash smiled. “Okay. Thanks.”

  Ash brushed her lips against Jemma’s cheek, then nibbled an earlobe, and a pleasant tingle travelled down Jemma’s spine. She turned her head and met Ash’s mouth with her own, then lost herself in the pleasurable sensation.

  It was Ash who broke the kiss. “By the way, I was wondering. How thick are your walls?” She bounced up and down, causing the metal bedframe to emit a loud squeak.

  Until that moment, Jemma hadn’t realised quite how loud it was, and the thought of the people in the flat next door hearing last night’s activities made her go hot all over. “God.” She hid her face in her hands and prayed she wouldn’t encounter them on the landing.

  With a chuckle, Ash reached for her again, but Jemma was no longer in the mood. Ash arched an eyebrow at her. “Not even if I find a can of 3-in-one and oil the bed first?” At Jemma’s look, she gave a rueful smile and changed the subject. “What about breakfast then?”

  Jemma’s stomach gurgled approval. “Now that’s a good idea. I think there are some cornflakes.” She paused. “I’ll have to pop out to the shops for milk though.” Or I could ask my neighbour if she has a spare pint. Memory of the bed’s squeaking returned. Maybe not.

  “No rush.” Ash yawned and stretched, displaying the curve of her breasts to perfection. She followed the direction of Jemma’s gaze with a smile but without comment. “No point my going over to my place until Forensics have finished anyway.”

  HQ had promised to send the lab boys round there with their fine-tooth combs. Ash had told Jemma what they would probably find. C4 explosive. And a pressure release mechanism, triggered by the opening of the front door. If she hadn’t heard it … Jemma clamped down on that thought.

  She went to the wardrobe and, on the second attempt, managed to get the warped door open. She selected a sweatshirt and clean pair of jeans, then glanced in the mirror at Ash. “What are you going to do?”

  Ash’s brow creased before smoothing. “About the flat? Make sure it’s safe, and if it isn’t, get it shored up. Then get quotes from three different builders, I suppose.”

  Jemma bit her lip. Her flat hadn’t been blown up, yet she felt angry, on edge. She turned and glared at Ash. “You’re taking it very calmly.”

  For a moment Ash was silent. “As a matter of fact, I’m bloody furious, if you must know.” Her tone was sombre. “If Abdusamad were to walk through that door, I’d take him apart, piece by piece, and the louder he screamed the better. First my car; now my flat. Not to mention Janus.”

  The blue eyes had gone ice cold, and Jemma hoped she never had that look turned on her. “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay.”

  A thought struck Jemma. “Do you think he had anything to do with Corky and Jeff?”

  Ash shrugged. “Maybe. God knows he has reason to hate me and the people I work for. And Corky and Jeff are … were friends of mine.”

  Jemma’s fear and frustration boiled over. “We’re on high alert. Why hasn’t anyone spotted him, for God’s sake?”

  “I was wondering about that too.” Ash pursed her lips. “After I’ve set the wheels in motion with the builders, I’ll drop by HQ. Maybe Thompson will let me get involved in the surveillance operation, tighten its focus.”

  “I’ll come with you.”

  “I thought it was your reunion.”

  Jemma blinked. She had forgotten all about it. “Oh well, it doesn’t matter. I’ll cancel—”

  Ash held her gaze. “Look, I know you’re worried about me, but I’ll be fine. Go. Meet your friends. In our job, you never know when it’ll be the last time you see them.” Her tone was light but her sentiment was serious.

  Jemma sighed. It was true that she wanted to keep an eye on Ash. More than that, if she could have her way, she would lock Ash in this very room until Abdu
samad was dead or in custody. It was also true that she had promised Natalie and Gary she’d go to the reunion. Plus, she had never been on the London Eye, and she had already paid for her ticket.

  “All right,” she said at last. “But only if you’re sure I can’t help you out with anything this morning.”

  “I’m sure,” said Ash. “Just promise me one thing.”

  “What?”

  “Although I’m pretty sure I’m the one Abdusamad’s gunning for, you were with me in the Mercedes, the caves, and yesterday at the flat. So there’s a slight, very slight possibility … “ She trailed off, her expression grave.

  Jemma’s throat went dry, and she swallowed. “That I’m his target?” She had been so concerned about Ash, she had overlooked that possibility.

  “Yes.” Ash rose, went to Jemma, and captured her hands. “So please, love,” she looked deep into Jemma’s eyes, “be very very careful.”

  JEMMA CHANGED TUBE trains at Bank and emerged at Waterloo. As she looked for signposts to the London Eye, it proved to be unnecessary. The gigantic Space Age Ferris wheel loomed over this part of the Thames’s south bank, and she had simply to head across the road towards it.

  At County Hall, right next to it, she felt smug as she sauntered past the queues of people who hadn’t pre-booked, swiped her credit card through the slot of one of the five ticket machines, and took the ticket it extruded. Two times were printed on it—checking in time was half an hour before her flight.

  “Hey, JJ,” came a man’s hail.

  She looked up, and was pleased to see two familiar figures hurrying towards her. “Hey, Gary. Nat.”

  After hugs all round, they headed outside to the Jubilee Gardens where they had agreed to meet the others. The morning was sunny and clear—the views from the Eye should be excellent.

  “There’s Asterix and Obelix,” chortled Natalie, pointing.

  Their former classmates did indeed resemble the comic book characters, thought Jemma, amused. It must be the moustaches and the muscles straining Tim’s jacket—he had obviously been weight training. “Shush. They’ll hear you.” She smiled and waved. “Hi, Tim. Jamie.”

  “Hi, JJ. Want some?” Jamie gestured at the half-eaten hotdog he had bought from one of the overpriced street vendors.

  She grimaced. “No thanks. I ate before I came.”

  They hugged (or in the case of the men, slapped each other on the back), before beginning what would no doubt be the first of many catch up sessions. Four classmates would be unable to join the reunion, Jemma learned with some disappointment. Joan was working as liaison in Germany; Brendan was backpacking in Marrakech; Lennie was in Paris, helping with embassy surveillance; as for Mia, her mother’s funeral was today.

  “Poor Mia,” said Natalie. “But at least that means she can’t play any more practical jokes on us.”

  “Thank God for small mercies,” agreed Jemma, who would never forget being on the receiving end of a bucket of water balanced on top of a door.

  A man with a jet-black beard joined them. There was something familiar about him, but Jemma couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

  “Hi, Rob,” said Jamie, and Jemma did a double take.

  “Since when did you grow a beard?”

  He stroked his chin whiskers and preened. “Like it?” Torn between honesty and tact, she opened her mouth and closed it again. Everyone burst out laughing, and he frowned. “Well my girlfriend thinks it’s neat.”

  Gary and Natalie exchanged glances and mouthed “neat.” Jemma was about to rib Rob about finally getting a girlfriend (he had tried to date every woman in class), when she saw more familiar faces heading towards them. Three of them she was glad to see, but the fourth …

  Louise Brande was wearing a fashionable red dress, matching jacket, and high heels. When she saw Jemma, she looked as if she’d smelled something nasty. The feeling was mutual.

  “Louise.” Jemma forced a smile. “You came.”

  Louise ignored her and talked to Tim and Jamie. Jemma shrugged and turned her attention to the other new arrivals.

  “Dewi, how’s the nose?” She still felt a twinge of guilt that she was the one who had broken it during a self-defence class.

  “Fine. I’m told it gives my face character,” said the Welshman cheerfully. “That’s some tan you’ve got, JJ.”

  “Got it in Rio.” She tried not to look smug. “Geri, you look wonderful.” Ever since she’d known her, Geri had been trying to lose weight. It looked as if she had finally managed it.

  “Thanks. You look pretty good yourself.”

  “And Rashid. How’s the fencing going?”

  The slim Pakistani gave Jemma shy smile. “Well, thank you for asking. I won another trophy last week.”

  “Congratulations. No wonder I could never get a blade on you.”

  At that, Geri looked up. “What’s all this I hear about you and Blade?”

  “Um. What have you heard?” Jemma hoped she hadn’t gone pink.

  With a glance at the tourists milling around Jubilee Gardens, Geri lowered her voice. “That you’re her new partner, of course. And that you’ve already been on a mission with her to Brazil. What did you think?”

  “Oh.” Jemma gathered her thoughts. “Well, it’s true.”

  “Really?” Geri’s eyes filled with envy. “They partnered Blade with a newbie?”

  Jemma nodded. This time she was sure she had gone pink.

  “Well done, JJ,” said Rashid. “There’s hope for the rest of us.”

  “Don’t expect to get the same treatment,” said a cold voice, and all eyes turned to regard Louise. “Unless you plan on sleeping your way to the top.”

  “You didn’t, JJ, did you?” Rashid regarded Jemma with dismay.

  It’s not like that. Jemma opened her mouth to defend her relationship with Ash, but Louise pre-empted her.

  “JJ has a thing for Section Heads,” said Louise, in a tone of deep significance. “Why else do you think Remington had to resign?” Puzzled, all Jemma could do was gape at her. “Then they transferred her to Counter Intelligence, and hey presto, Thompson pairs her up with his number one agent.” She arched an eyebrow and held Jemma’s gaze. “Is he good in bed, JJ?”

  I’m supposed to be sleeping with Thompson? Jemma tried to speak but no sound came out. For an agent, even a junior agent, to get her intelligence so wrong was so incompetent it took her breath away.

  “Um, Louise.” Natalie forced her way to the front. “I hate to break this to you, but why would JJ sleep with any male section head? She’s gay.”

  “Gay?” Louise blinked, and for the first time her cast iron certainty wavered.

  Jemma cleared her throat. “Thanks, Nat,” she murmured, before turning a cool gaze on her opponent. “Sorry to spoil your theory, Louise, but it’s true. Always have been. Always will be.” She gave the men staring at her a mock-grimace. “What can I say, except, sorry, guys.”

  For a moment there was an embarrassed silence. Then Tim sniggered, and Rob guffawed, and suddenly everyone was laughing. Louise’s face turned a shade of beetroot that was painful to observe and clashed with her dress.

  “If I was wrong, then of course I apologise,” she said stiffly.

  Call that an apology? But Jemma wasn’t going to allow Louise to ruin this reunion any more than she had already, so she shrugged and murmured, “Thank you.”

  Then she glanced at her watch and at her companions. “It’s checkin time. So are we going to stand around like lemons, or go and join the queue?”

  “BUT TO DESTROY her Mercedes.” Gary looked as if his puppy had been run over.

  “If it’s any consolation,” said Jemma, “she’s driving a Lotus now.”

  “It isn’t. I’d give my right arm to own a SLK 230.”

  Natalie gave the arm in question a consoling pat. “Maybe one day.”

  London Eye staff had checked their bags for explosives, food, and drink (but allowed the brandy miniature in Geri’s pocket—ma
ny visitors must use Dutch courage to overcome their fear of heights) before the reunion party trailed up the ramp. There was a long queue, but it was moving rapidly, as complete flights took only half an hour and the thirty-two oval observation pods could carry up to twenty-five passengers each. In any case, catching up on what everyone had been up to since leaving training school made the time pass.

  Gary and Natalie insisted on learning the full details of Jemma’s recent adventures, of course. And the others soon joined in, except for Louise, though she wasn’t too proud to eavesdrop. All had heard rumours of Abdusamad’s attempts to kill Ash, and were eager to hear more from the horse’s mouth. After swearing them to secrecy, Jemma gave them an abbreviated account, which they punctuated with indrawn breaths and exclamations. When she had said all she intended to, the others returned to their own conversations, leaving Jemma alone with Natalie and Gary.

  “That was bloody close,” said Natalie, concerned about the booby-trapped front door.

  “Tell me about it.” Jemma grimaced. “We’re still in one piece, but Ash’s flat isn’t.”

  “So where is she staying?” asked Gary.

  “At my place.”

  Natalie and Gary exchanged a glance.

  “You don’t mean to tell me you’re making someone like her live somewhere like that,” said Natalie.

  Jemma put her hands on her hips. “What’s wrong with my flat?”

  “What’s right with it, more like,” said Gary with a grin.

  She realised they were winding her up. “Toe rags.”

  In mock anger, she folded her arms, turned her back on them, and regarded the Eye. The gigantic wheel continued to turn while people boarded each observation pod, she saw with some alarm, but the rate of turn was slow and attendants issued instructions and helped where needed. When the last of the current batch of visitors had boarded, the attendants closed the pod doors, and beckoned.

  Jemma found herself standing on the boarding platform in front of an entry gate. If her observations were correct, the next pod should be number thirteen. Should she draw anyone’s attention to this worrying fact? She decided against it. Which was just as well, because when the pod arrived, it had been renumbered 33. Superstitious lot, aren’t we? Even so, she felt a rush of relief.