This time it only rang once.
“Dermott.”
“It’s Arlene. Is he…” My voice choked off.
Oh, please…
“He’s out of surgery and stable. The bullet broke a rib, but that deflected it enough that it missed everything vital. We’re airlifting him back here to debrief. Get back as soon as you can.”
My mind refused to process anything beyond the first sentence. “He’s going to be okay…?”
Beside me, Hellhound drew in a sharp breath.
“Yeah, that’s what I just said. When can you get back?”
I nodded at Hellhound and he slumped against my car, the white lines of strain easing from his face. I squeezed his hand and dragged my attention back to Dermott.
“I have one more loose end to tie up. Probably about an hour, and then two hours to drive back.”
I hung up and wrapped my arms around Hellhound to hide my face in his chest. He held me tightly, rocking me in his embrace, and we stood that way for long moments until at last I regained my composure and straightened.
“One more.”
Hellhound grinned. “Let’s do it, darlin’.”
I wriggled out my car window for the last time, suppressing a whimper when I had to raise my aching arm. Guilt gnawed at me as I walked down the ramp and out of the trailer, leaving ten captives plus Barnett and his stench behind. Poor Barnett. In about twenty minutes his trank was going to wear off, and he’d probably struggle all the way to Silverside.
I stiffened my spine. Dammit, I’d seen what he did to Hibbert. If there was such a thing as karma, this was it. All I did was tie him up and pull out a few leg hairs, and he’d done the rest to himself.
My rationalizations didn’t help much, and I swallowed nausea as Dave locked the trailer doors for the last time.
He turned from his work and gave Hellhound a dark look. “Only letting you ride up front on one condition. If you need to…” He hesitated, shooting a quick glance at me as his ears reddened. “…do anything, you tell me and I’ll stop so you can get out. Got it?”
To my relief, Hellhound laughed. “Yeah. But I think the burritos have worn off. We’re safe.”
“Didn’t smell like it to me,” Dave muttered, and headed for the driver’s door.
Hellhound looked up at the passenger door before turning to me. “Can ya make it up there? Looks like your shoulder’s pretty sore.”
I eyed the high door and suppressed a whimper. “I can make it. It’s only bruised.”
“D’ya want shotgun or d’ya wanna lie down in the sleeper?”
I drew a breath of relief at the memory of Dave’s tidy custom sleeper and the pristine sheets in his bunk. “Sleeper. Thanks.” I reached for the handle beside the door and groaned. “Maybe I could use a boost after all.”
I only registered the first few minutes of the trip. The steady thrum of the big diesel and the quiet rumble of male conversation lulled me into fitful sleep broken by violent nightmares. Hellhound’s gentle touch and voice soothed me back to sleep time and again, and it seemed only moments before he was smoothing the hair back from my forehead and calling my name.
“Time to wake up, darlin’. We’re gettin’ close to Silverside, an’ Dave needs to know where to go.”
“Uh.” I dragged myself upright, wincing. “Right…” I rubbed bleary eyes and tried to shake some coherent thought into my sleep-fogged brain. “Um, the hospital. Secure entrance. Barnett’s ankles will need to be cleaned up. And I can call Dermott from there and get instructions about where he wants our…” I bit off my words when I realized Dave was listening avidly. “…um, cargo,” I finished.
“Where’s the secure entrance?” Dave asked.
“Around back. It just looks like a blank door, so I’ll give you directions.”
Dave had just pulled to a stop outside the door when it opened and a scrubs-clad man hurried out to stand frowning up at the huge truck. He gesticulated, and Dave rolled down his window.
“You can’t park here,” the orderly snapped. “Loading dock is around the side.”
I leaned across Dave to speak out the window. “No, we have a delivery for this entrance.”
Maybe he recognized me from my previous misadventures, or maybe I’d simply hit on the correct code words. In any case, his frown vanished, to be replaced with furrows of concern.
“Where?” he demanded.
“In the back. Hang on…” I retreated into the cab. “Dave, stay here. I’ll let you know when we’re done unloading. Arnie, I’ll need your help with the doors and ramps. We’ll have to unload my car first.”
Hellhound nodded and swung down from the cab, reaching up to help me as I winced my way down after him.
Thumping came from Barnett’s corner of the trailer, and I sighed. “Can you go in and trank him again while I talk to the orderly?”
“Yeah. Let’s get your car out, an’ then I’ll go take care of him.”
I hurried around the truck, and the orderly rapped out, “Status of the injuries?”
“Just some rope burns that need to be disinfected and dressed. We’ll bring him out. Can I borrow a couple of masks and some gloves and maybe a couple of those disposable paper suits?”
The orderly’s eyes widened. “Biohazard? Wait here!”
He darted back through the door before I could stop him, and I sighed and turned toward the back of the trailer.
The stench hit me as soon as the trailer doors opened, and I spared a moment of sympathy for the captives with their mouths taped shut, forced to breathe that reek through their noses for the last couple of hours.
Then again, considering the crimes they’d committed, they probably deserved it.
I drove down the ramps for what I sincerely hoped was the last time and parked a few car-lengths away. Hellhound hurried into the trailer and vanished behind the tarp curtain.
I was just getting out of the driver’s seat when a crew of aliens in space suits rushed out of the hospital. Two guided a stretcher while three more began to set up what looked like an inflatable tent.
“Shit! No, no!” I scurried over to tug on the nearest alien’s sleeve. “It’s not a biohazard, he’s just got shit all over him. He stinks, that’s all. He just needs to be hosed off.”
“Oh.” The alien muttered into his headset before reaching up to turn off his respirator and remove the bubble head of his suit. Around him the others did the same, casting baleful looks at me.
“Sorry,” I mumbled. “Um, could you please bring out the tarp he’s sitting in, too? I don’t want to get shit all over the inside of the trailer.”
The orderly let out a ‘hmmph’ and stalked up the ramps, followed by his brethren pushing the stretcher. Hellhound beckoned them in, and a few minutes later they all emerged with Sharkface cocooned unconscious inside his malodorous tarp.
They whisked him through the door and Hellhound leaned down to inspect his jeans with distaste. “Fuck, now I stink like shit, too. Didn’t dare use the gun on him with the docs comin’ in right afterwards. He was thrashin’ around so much he got some on me when I stuck the dart in his neck.”
“Let’s close up the trailer and then you can go in and get washed off,” I suggested. “I’m going to tell Dave to just idle in the parking lot for now, and I have to go in and call Dermott. Meet you at the nurses’ desk.”
When I rounded the corner a few minutes later, Spider’s fiancée Linda hurried out from the nurses’ station. “Aydan! Thank God you’re all right!” She gave me a quick hug. “Spider was so worried! I’ll tell him you’re here; he’s just sitting with John.”
“Wait, Linda.” I caught her arm as she turned to rush away. “I do want to see Spider and John, but first I have to talk to Dermott. Can I use your secured line to call him?”
She dimpled. “No need. He’s with John, too. Go on in, it’s the second room on the left.”
“Thanks. If you see Arnie, could you tell him where I am?”
She nodd
ed and I turned toward the room, drawing a deep breath. God, I didn’t want to face Dermott. But I had to see Kane and prove to myself that he was really alive.
I hesitated outside the door, heart thumping. This was it.
Would Dermott throw me in jail for aiding Stemp? Or for torturing Barnett? Or hell, for some other crime I hadn’t even realized I’d committed?
Would he free my captives because I’d skipped some legal technicality that I would have known about if I was a real agent? Or worse, would he charge me with kidnapping and coercing confessions from them?
I groaned and leaned my forehead against the cool metal door frame. Maybe I should just run out to my car and drive far, far away…
I recoiled as Dermott himself strode through the door. He jerked to a halt, his ruddy features only inches away.
“Fuck!” he exclaimed. “What took you? Get in here.”
Chapter 46
Pulse pounding, I followed Dermott into the large hospital room, my gaze searching out Kane’s battered face on the pillow. Deep lines of pain carved his features sharp against his greyish pallor, but his eyes blazed above his smile.
“Oh, Aydan, you did it! I knew you would! You’re amazing!” Spider lunged out of his chair to fling lanky arms around me, nearly hugging the breath out of me. “Oh, thank God!” He wiped his eyes unabashed, and I hugged him in return.
Glancing over his shoulder, I froze. The hospital noises receded, leaving only the sound of my blood draining into my socks while I stared at the silent figure I’d just noticed in the corner of the room. My mouth fell open, but nothing came out.
Then my heart restarted with a tremendous thud and I gasped a breath that tasted of glorious vindication.
“You… it’s you,” I stammered. My smile widened until my ears ached. “You’re here! You’re…” I glanced at Dermott’s dour expression before returning my grin to Stemp. “Welcome back!”
Stemp rose, smiling the smile that warmed his amber eyes and made him look like a human being instead of a reptilian robot. “Thank you. I’m pleased to be back.”
I returned my attention to Kane, drinking in the glorious sight of his living, breathing form.
“Thank God you’re all right,” he murmured. He cast a rueful glance at his semi-reclined state against the pillows. “Excuse me for not getting up to greet you.”
Mindful of Stemp’s and Dermott’s presence, I managed not to smother him with kisses but my smile was wide enough to hurt my face. “Thank God you’re all right!” I hurried forward to squeeze his hand. “You scared the shit out of me.” My voice wobbled at the end and I concealed it in a cough.
A tap at the door made me swing around to see Hellhound sidle into the room, his gaze anxiously searching out the figure in the bed. Then a grin split his face and he strode forward to grip Kane’s forearm in a warrior’s armclasp. “Fuck, ya goddamn asshole, ya scared the shit outta me! Don’t fuckin’ do that!”
Kane grinned and inclined his chin toward Hellhound’s bruised features. “I owed you a scare. Payback’s a bitch.”
Hellhound barked laughter. “No shit.”
“Since we’re all here…” Stemp’s composed voice cut through the conversation. “…and since Kane will need to rest soon, let’s debrief. This room is secure. Dermott, if you please?” He nodded toward the door and Dermott swung it shut.
I sank into one of the chairs, my knees suddenly weak. What if this was my last moment of freedom? My guts clenched and I beat back claustrophobic terror. I could probably still make a run for it. Only Dermott was between me and the door…
“Kane, please begin while you have the strength,” Stemp said. “If it becomes too much for you, please say so and we’ll resume at another time.”
“I’m fine.” Kane hitched himself higher on the pillow, his face taut with pain.
Hellhound leaned over to support him with one powerful arm while he expertly plumped the pillow with the other, then eased Kane back into position.
The hard lines around Kane’s mouth softened into a smile. “You haven’t lost your touch.”
Hellhound returned a twisted smile. “Wasn’t that fuckin’ long ago. Told ya then I didn’t wanna hafta do it for ya again.”
“If not for Aydan, you wouldn’t have to.” Kane met my eyes. “Thank you for taking that bullet for me.”
Heat flooded my face. “Um, you’re welcome… I mean, um… not that you’re welcome to shoot me, but… shit, you know what I mean. I’m glad you’re okay. Well, kind of okay…” I pressed my lips together to silence my babbling, and studied my toes.
“Kane? If you please.” Stemp’s dry tone did nothing to ease the fire in my cheeks.
“You’re all up to date as of my last report?” Kane asked.
Thankful for the shift in attention, I looked up in time to see nods all around.
Stemp raised an eyebrow. “Helmand, too?”
“I briefed him,” I said. “He’s been involved from the start.”
“Very well. Kane, continue.”
Kane eased in a breath, wincing. “As I mentioned in my last report, I didn’t trust Dawn White. I was posing as an arms dealer when I had dealings with her seven years ago and I knew she had contacts in the arms game, but it turned out she was working for Volslav all along. When Volslav didn’t receive the weapon from Yana a couple of weeks ago, they traced our flight and obtained a passenger manifest. Dawn recognized my name and assumed I had acquired the weapon, so she contacted me using our old code. I resumed my cover…”
He paused, his gaze fixed on the corner of the ceiling. “…along with the relationship we’d had seven years ago,” he went on without looking at me. “As promised, her expert identified the origin of the weapon. After the meeting, Dawn told me about Volslav and indicated there was an opportunity to sell the prototype to them. In my cover as an arms dealer, I couldn’t refuse, and in any case, I hoped to gain valuable intel from meeting with Volslav.”
Kane shifted, his lips tightening with pain. “What I didn’t know was that Dawn had been playing both ends against the middle. She worked openly for Volslav but she had been leaking information to Fuzzy Bunny on the side. She contacted Parr, hoping to gain a reward while still securing her position with Volslav.” He closed his eyes for a moment. “She got her reward from Parr.”
Sickness twisted my belly.
Kane continued, his features an impassive mask, his tone remote. “Dawn told me she had arranged another meeting before our scheduled one with Volslav, but she didn’t say with whom. When Parr’s men pulled their guns, I realized Dawn had sold me out to Fuzzy Bunny. I assumed she was safe with them since she was their informant, and I knew she still needed me for the meeting with Volslav later, so I didn’t expect things to escalate the way they did. I held onto my cover and didn’t fight back when they captured us. When they demanded the weapon, I told them my associate currently had it but I could offer them a deal if they let us go. They didn’t go for it.”
He glanced at Stemp. “By then I knew you had taken the weapon out of the country, so stalling was my only option. And in any case I didn’t want to draw attention to George Harrison, since you were supposed to be dead and Parr had already been asking questions.”
He fell silent and my muscles clenched with morbid suspense even though I knew how the story ended.
After a moment Kane spoke again, his voice raw with pain. “I had played my relationship with Dawn too convincingly. In an attempt to coerce the location of the weapon from me, they tortured her and forced me to watch. I tried to protect her by insisting she meant nothing to me. It didn’t work.”
Nausea wrenched my guts. Kane closed his eyes, his voice fading. “They finished with her and started with me. That’s when you found us.”
After a moment of silence, Stemp spoke. “I suspected that not everyone had believed George Harrison’s faked death originally, so I seeded our personnel list with that name when Kelly supplied it to Parr a couple of weeks ago. When Parr s
tarted asking questions, I knew the cover wouldn’t hold up much longer anyway, so I went to the meeting wearing my George Harrison disguise to see if it drew any interest.”
He glanced over at Kane. “I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to inform you of that before the meeting.”
Kane nodded understanding and Stemp went on, “I recognized Volslav’s arms expert, and I knew he had identified me in my George Harrison cover. I couldn’t risk contact with the Department, so I flew directly to Europe to mitigate the damage to my old informants before contacting Interpol. Some of my informants had new information, and by showing the weapon to a couple of key players I was able to successfully reactivate our original case. As a result, Interpol made a clean sweep of arrests, dealing a crippling blow to Volslav overseas.”
Stemp inclined his head in my direction. “Unfortunately, our concentration on Volslav may have compromised your investigation of Fuzzy Bunny, but we had little choice.”
“Um… about that…” My voice came out hoarse, and I cleared my throat. “Actually, I’ve got a truckload of guys waiting out in the parking lot to testify against Parr. What do you want me to do with them?”
Dermott erupted from his chair. “What?”
“Well, not a truckload, exactly,” I amended. “Ten…”
A tap on the door interrupted me, and Stemp barked, “Come!”
Dr. Roth cracked the door open and poked her head in. “Aydan, that man you brought in… Kevin Barnett?”
Dermott shot me a suspicious look, and I focused on Dr. Roth’s serious expression, my toes curling. “Um, yeah?”
She glanced at the assembled men, and I sighed. “It’s okay, you can say whatever you need to.”
She slipped into the room and closed the door behind her. “Mr. Barnett was quite distraught when he recovered from your tranquilizer. He kept screaming about being tortured…”
Everyone stiffened and the air temperature in the room dropped several degrees.
“…and insisting that his leg was going to rot and fall off as a result of what you did to him,” Dr. Roth continued, apparently oblivious to the tension. “After I cleaned the urine and feces and theatrical makeup off him, I did a thorough examination but I couldn’t find anything wrong with him other than ligature marks on his wrists and ankles and a bruise near his solar plexus. When I told him that, it only seemed to agitate him more. He became hysterical, insisting that the effects of your secret weapon were invisible but his tissue was dying and he would soon lose, in his words, ‘chunks of his leg’.”
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