The Barista’s Guide to Espionage

by Dave Sinclair

  Tapping her foot she willed the glacial doors to go faster.

  “Eva.”

  Her head snapped around. Before her was a broken human being. He stumbled towards her, a shell of a man. He hardly resembled the hero of the Battle of Trafalgar, the crusading extortionist of governments or the man who had once been her entire world. With five metres to go, Eva lifted her gun. Evenly she said, “This carriage is taken, Harry. Find another one.”

  Harry was horrified. “You can’t leave me here.”

  “It seems I can.” The door continued to close.

  Appalled, Harry’s eyes pleaded. “What can you possibly get from leaving me here?”

  Eva lowered her gun. “Closure.”

  His jaw dropped. Eva could have pressed the door release button. She could have. But didn’t.

  An expression of horror flashed across Harry’s face. She’d gotten her wish. She was over Harry Lancing. The doors finally hissed shut.

  A roar of inundating water surged forward and engulfed the statue-like Harry. The water was only waist-high, but it was enough to lose his footing. He stumbled and was swept away by the surge. The last Eva saw of him he was struck on the back by a server rack and went under the water. He didn’t surface again.

  Despite his evil transformation, Eva couldn’t bring herself to wish harm to come to Harry. She wasn’t heartless. She searched the desolation before her and couldn’t find him. She asked herself, who the hell are you? Is this who you are now?

  With a clench of her eyes, Eva tried to focus on what came next but the bile in the back of her throat told her it wasn’t that easy. Had she killed the man who had once meant everything to her?

  As the train gained momentum, Eva’s attention was drawn to a flash of light on one of the upper walkways. A bloodied figure ran as two uniformed guards fired machine guns at him. He returned fire. The son of a bitch was still alive. Wounded and limping, but alive. And in a firefight. Of course he was. He always managed to find someone to piss off.

  Annoyingly, Bishop was still immaculate in the tux. The stupid bastard was meant to be on the surface. He’d just made Eva’s job a hell of a lot harder.

  She pounded her fists on the train carriage’s glass. With every ounce of strength left, she screamed, “I’m coming for you!”

  He didn’t hear her. The train darkened as it entered the tunnel and descended. Eva collapsed on the floor. It was all too much. Everything happened too fast. There was nothing left in her bloodstream but adrenaline.

  Deep breaths were sucked in as she stared at the ceiling. The overhead lights flickered past as the transparent egg glided along the monorail. She was exhausted in every way possible, in fact she may have even created some new ones to add to the list. All Eva wanted was to close her eyes, for a moment, and wake up in her own bed. If only she could sleep for a week, wake up and call Nancy and Paul for brunch. Take a walk. Read a book. Be human.

  Eva sensed herself drifting off to sleep. Her eyes flashed open. She’d said if she was lucky she would be through the tunnel before it flooded.

  She wasn’t lucky.

  The awful sound reached her before she saw it. When the water finally came, it was terrifying. Behind her was nothing but a churning, violent, all-encompassing wall of fury. The flooding waters came at her at an incredible rate. As fast as the train was, there was no way she’d outrun it. It was too fast. Too powerful.

  There was nothing Eva could do but brace for impact. The sea water was going to smash into her and it was going to be ugly. Grasping two handrails, she planted her feet like a surfer. This was going to hurt.

  The wave hit and the train carriage lurched forward viciously. With a petrifying metallic rip the rear of the train shot upwards. The carriage shook as if it were a tennis ball in the mouth of a dog. After a final shredding noise the train was no longer attached to the monorail.

  Unshackled by rail, the surging water propelled the egg-shaped carriage like a bullet from a gun. Eva lost all sense of balance. She had no idea which way was up. For a moment she blacked out. When she opened her eyes she wished she was still unconscious. At the peak of the wave, she saw ahead. Approaching fast was a solid, definitely conclusive wall, signifying the end of the tunnel.

  The torrent of the water started to slow as the tunnel rose to the main house, but it wouldn’t be enough. The train carriage was going to crash into the end of the tunnel. As best she could, Eva braced for impact.

  The collision was terrible. Screeching metal, sparks and teeth-chattering shudders vanished instantly when the whole structure crushed into the rock wall. Grinding metal soon gave way to razor-sharp glass flying in every direction. The sudden stop nearly pulled her arms out of their sockets but could have been worse. The receding water made the impact less catastrophic. The final few metres were slowed by the lack of water, only momentum propelled the carriage forward. The crash was still painful but in the aftermath everything was still attached.

  Unhooking herself from the straps, Eva spat blood. Her vision blurred. At first she thought it was sweat, but then realised it was more blood. A cut on her head had trickled into her eye. Various lacerations scarred her body. But she was alive. That was enough.

  Allowing herself the luxury of a moment to gather her wits, she surveyed the situation. She watched the water retreat down the tunnel, but it would be back soon enough. The train carriage was the right way up but cracked and destroyed.

  She had to evacuate the tunnel before the surging water returned. Eva collected her weapons and kicked out the door. It shattered on the monorail track. The closest station was fifty metres away. Eva staggered out and limped towards it.

  The rumble of the rushing water was deafening. It was coming back. Too soon. Too bloody soon. Ignoring the pain, she broke into a run. She had no idea if she’d make the station in time. She’d come this far, she’d be damned if she’d give up now.

  The rumble soon morphed into an ear-splitting wall of noise. So sluggish was Eva’s progress it was like she was running underwater. She urged herself on because if she didn’t make it, that’s exactly what she would be doing.

  Slowly, far too slowly she neared the train station. The cacophony grew in intensity, but she couldn’t see the gushing sea water. Yet. She ran on.

  Finally managing to reach her goal, Eva leaped onto the station as the wall of water came into view. It was close but she’d beaten it. There was no time to celebrate. Legs on fire, she darted through the exit and up the incline.

  As her lungs screamed in protest, Eva sped on. A fleeting glimpse behind showed the water reach the end of the passageway but encroach no further.

  Completely spent, her legs buckled and she fell. For an eternity her crumpled form did nothing but breathe. Lovely, plentiful air filled her lungs. The smooth cold surface of the passageway soothed her aching body. She could have stayed there for years. If only she had that luxury.

  Her tortured arms reluctantly pushed her broken body up. Every muscle screamed for respite but was ignored.

  Eva whispered, “Fuck weakness.” A call back to the Battle of Trafalgar. A different time. A different life.

  For all she knew, Bishop may have been dead but there was no way in hell she’d leave him behind if there was a chance. They’d saved each other’s lives numerous times, Eva wasn’t about to break the chain. If he was alive in the ruined facility she would find a way to get him out. She had to. That was what drove her forward. That was why she couldn’t fail.

  Hobbling forward, Eva fought every ache her body tormented her with. She had no time for pain. Wheezing, she slapped the release of the secret door to the cleaning storeroom. It seemed so long ago she’d been there, but in reality it was mere hours. She made her way across the room and opened the door a crack. No human activity.

  Ambling into the hallway, Eva realised there was daylight. Bishop’s watch said she had a little less than half an hour to find a boat and get off the island before it blew. Then all she had to figure out was a wa
y to save Bishop. Simple.

  “Hey!”

  Eva heard the voice, but didn’t turn. She ran. The only person she wanted to hear from was Bishop and he was trapped in a flooded underground cavern.

  Plus he probably wouldn’t be shooting at her.

  The door frame splintered with bullets as she leapt through to the outside world. She ducked and sprinted towards the jungle. The gunman must have been far down the hall for her not to have seen him. She’d be well out of sight of the house by the time he reached the door. Eva sped on just in case.

  The island sounded deceptively peaceful. She knew better. Between her and the pier were armed men who wanted to do her harm.

  She had a mission, two Sig Sauers and a kickass umbrella. Eva vaulted into the underbrush and disappeared into the jungle.

  “Which brings us, gentlemen, to where we came in.”

  Cole and Decker stared at her.

  Eva stared back.

  Her story was done. It seemed nobody knew what to do next.

  “So,” Eva plastered on her best shit-eating grin. “How about that pee break?”

  During the last part of her story, Cole had returned with a bedpan that was tantalisingly close in the corner.

  Decker folded his arms. “So, the spy is still there? On the second island?”

  “That’s what I’ve said all along. I still don’t understand why you won’t send someone ashore or why you two are so arse-licking informal. He could be drowning for all you know. He set the bombs that saved the world from Horatio Lancing, he deserves some level of appreciation and, oh, I don’t know, rescuing.”

  Neither of the two Navy men moved. Not for the first time Eva wondered what was really going on. The two of them were far too casual. The lines of questioning seemed to go down paths that the US Navy would never be interested in. She had seen no other Navy personnel since coming on board. Plus she had never once detected the ship manoeuvre which she took as extremely odd, even for a large aircraft carrier.

  Decker straightened his pen to be in line with his note paper on the table. “I’m afraid that’s not your call, Ms Destruction. I know it’s hard to believe but it is actually the President of the United States of America and not your good self who decides if we are to engage in hostile action on foreign soil. So far we only have your word and,” he casually flicked through Eva’s large Interpol file, “that is, shall we say, of debatable credibility.”

  She’d grown to despise Decker. He struck her as the type of arsehole who claimed to prefer instant coffee over the real stuff. She could never trust anyone like that.

  Proud of herself for not growling, she said, “So, after everything I’ve told you you’re not going to save him?”

  “I’m not entirely sure there is anyone to save.”

  By the end of the day Eva was sure her teeth would be ground down to nubs. How could he not believe her? All he had to do was send out a party to search the island. All the evidence would be right there. In pieces, but there nonetheless.

  Eva took a deep breath. New strategy. “Can I at least go to the toilet?” She nodded to the bedpan for emphasis.

  Decker’s eyes narrowed. “No funny business?”

  “I’ll be like a high school comedy review. Absolutely no funny business.”

  Decker’s terse nod to Cole signalled his first mistake in some time. Cole proceeded to cut the white cable ties that had locked her body in place for far too long. The release was bliss. She was a butterfly freed from a stifling cocoon.

  Muscles tensed and released. The bruises and cuts still smarted. Eva rolled her neck, feeling blood finally circulating. Unsteadily she rose. For a moment the room spun, but it was fleeting. Gathering herself, she managed to walk towards the corner of the room and pick up the bedpan.

  She turned to see Decker standing before her. Cole was seated behind the desk, but no less observant.

  “Ah, guys, some privacy?”

  Decker fingered the pistol in his holster. “I think not.”

  “Perve.” She approached Decker. “You’re afraid of a girl? You have a ship of armed guys but you can’t let a woman urinate by herself? Do you have some sort of fetish disorder? What do you really think I’m going to do?”

  After a shake of his head, Decker ran his hand over her Interpol file. “I think your file indicates that you–”

  The base of Eva’s palm drove Decker’s hand onto the table. Her free hand grasped the back of his head and slammed it into the table. The loud metallic clang echoed around the room. The Navy Commander slumped to the floor out cold.

  Cole bolted out of his chair and ran at her. Eva picked up the bedpan and connected with the side of his head. Cole staggered backwards. He was stunned but not unconscious like his commanding officer. Still a threat.

  An angry Cole readied himself for another attack, but she had other ideas. She leaned down and pulled out Decker’s pistol. The naval officer raised his hands.

  Eva brandished the gun. “Back the hell up or I’ll kick you in your fucking soul.”

  Cole did as he was told.

  “The handcuffs,” Eva nodded to the devices that had held her in place during the first portion of her incarceration. “Put them on Decker, then you.” They were welded to the table and would do the job. The gun ensured there would be no argument.

  Did she really expect to be able to take on a whole naval vessel? Eva knew what she was doing was insane. She did it anyway. If nobody else would save Bishop, she’d do it her bloody self.

  Confident the officers were secure, her attention was drawn to the next, not insignificant, part of her ‘plan’. She’d spent too much time in the room, she could spend no more regardless of what she was about to face. A brief moment to steel herself was all she allowed.

  She spun the escape wheel handle and wrenched the large bulkhead door open. Pistol in hand she bounded through.

  Tropical birds fluttered away and Eva had to shield her eyes from the bright sunshine. The familiar smell of the sea mixed with the pungent perfume of fresh earth and exotic flowers assaulted her.

  Eva froze in place, her feet planted on the hot sand.

  There were no naval personnel to fight.

  It never was a US Navy boat.

  She’d been on the island all along.

  “Hi.”

  She spun around.

  Harry Lancing stood before her.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  “What the actual fuck?”

  Her ex-lover sported a large bruise on the side of his face but otherwise seemed unscathed from his run-in with a server rack in the underground cavern. Not that Harry’s wellbeing was exactly on Eva’s list of priorities.

  A pistol hung loosely in his hand. Decker’s gun was held tightly in hers. He seemed in no hurry to raise his weapon, but it was there, waiting. A low level stand-off. If it came down to a shootout, Eva had no doubt she’d come out victorious, but she needed answers first.

  “You did this?” she pointed at what until seconds before had been a US Navy cabin. “Those two idiots work for you, don’t they? What did you do, get Leroy and Jed from maintenance to put on a uniform and play along to your script?”

  Harry’s impassive face didn’t move.

  “You were listening to every word in there, weren’t you? Fed them the line of questioning and listened in like a voyeuristic sleazebag.” She waved her arms in the air. “Oh, bloody hell, of course you called yourself the President. An Admiral would never have been enough, would it?”

  The man that had been Harry, Horatio and then Harry again was motionless before Eva’s fury. Hands placed behind his back, he was impassive. Quite a feat since she had destroyed his entire island operation, his dream of European dictatorship in tatters, decades in the making.

  Dressed in a white linen suit and loafers, apart from the bruise, Harry appeared as if he’d walked from the summer catalogue of Multi-Billionaire Leisurewear Monthly. Face neutral, he said, “You left me for dead.”

 
Eva tilted her head. “It’s only fair. You did it to me.”

  Mind playing catch-up, Eva backtracked everything that had happened since she’d been shot and collapsed into the sea. The US Navy had never picked her up, it had been Harry’s goons. They’d patched her up and thrown her in a room that had a passing resemblance to a ship’s cabin.

  The restraints made a lot more sense. The handcuffs, the cable ties. They knew what she was capable of and didn’t want to take any chances. Where they’d sourced the uniforms from was the least of her questions. The most important was blatantly obvious.

  “Why?”

  “Why do I still love you after you’ve destroyed a lifetime’s work? Betrayed me, again. Lied to me. Worked against me with MI6. And, oh, blew up a facility that could have brought order and civility back to the world. You ask why?”

  “I ask why, specifically, you kept me in a room for hours, subjecting me to endless questions about you, of course it’s all about you, and strapped me down to spill my life story. I want to know why, Harry. Why?”

  His expression melted from its hardened state. “I had to know…I had to know if there was any chance for us. I had to know why you came here, without filters. I guess I know now. To spy on me. It was never about love.”

  “It was once…then you went balls-out crazy.”

  “I did? You’re the one who sold her soul to MI6 and screwed their lead pillar of debauchery.”

  “I thought you were listening to every word. Didn’t you hear? I never slept with Bishop.”

  “No, merely frolicked naked in front of him. That’s why I had to find out. There had to be a reason he knew about that private tattoo of yours.”

  Eva was aghast. “That’s what this is all about? Jealousy? The whole fake sailors thing was to find that out? You really have lost it. The man who threatened the world is in turn threatened by one flirty misogynist. You really are just a frightened little boy in the end, aren’t you?”

  Ever since arriving on the island there had been moments when Eva had wondered why she’d been invited in the first place. Was Harry aware of her MI6 connections and wanted to know what they knew? In the end, it was far simpler than that. He really did love her that much. His offer to make her European Minister for Women and rule by his side wasn’t an idle proposal, it was spawned by love. For her.