Hellhound laid a hand over my clenched fist. “Never mind. Let it go, darlin’. Ya know I never wanna know more than I hafta. Just tell me what ya need me to do.”
I ground my teeth for a few seconds before deciding he was right. No sense wasting time bitching about it. “Okay. I’m going to tell you as much as I can without going into specifics. Carl, stop me if you have to.”
I organized my thoughts for a few moments. “I’m carrying a very valuable piece of technology. It’s inside my wristwatch at the moment. I can use that technology in ways nobody else can. If it falls into the wrong hands, the results could be disastrous. Think national security disastrous. By myself, I’m no use to anybody. With the technology, I can…”
“Stop. That’s enough,” Germain interrupted. He turned to Hellhound. “Nobody can know that Aydan is carrying this technology, or even that it exists. And nobody can know she’s the only one who can use it. If you breathe a word, you’re signing her death warrant.”
Hellhound’s face hardened, and he nodded once.
I really didn’t want any reminders about how dangerous this was. I sighed and continued.
“In order to use this device, I need to go into a trance-like state. When I’m in that state, I don’t know what’s going on around me. When I come out, if I do it correctly, I have some pain and it takes me a minute or so before I can function again.”
I rubbed my aching temples. “That’s the best-case scenario. Worst-case, I’m pulled out of the trance-like state by an external stimulus of some sort. If that happens, I’m completely incapacitated, for several minutes. I can’t see or hear. I scream and thrash around. I can’t stop it, and I can’t control it. If that happened, you’d have to take the watch off my wrist and escape. That technology is the top priority.”
“An’ leave ya there? That ain’t gonna happen,” Hellhound growled.
“It has to happen,” Germain countered. “There’s nothing you can do. You can’t carry her. You can’t even hold her, she fights so hard.”
“And another thing,” I added. “If the watch comes off my wrist while I’m in the n… trance, that’ll trigger the worst-case reaction, too.”
Hellhound glowered. “So you’re tellin’ me ya go into this trance, an’ there’s no way to get ya out without half killin’ ya.”
“No, not exactly.” I held up Spider’s invention. “This is a signalling device. If I’m in the n… Jesus! Trance, if I’m in the trance, you can hold this device up against the wristwatch and push the button. That signals me that I have to get out, um, I mean, wake up. It still takes me a few seconds before I can do much, but at least it’s manageable.”
Hellhound turned his scowl to Spider’s invention as he took it carefully from my hand. “So there’s no other way? This signallin’ thing’s the only way to get ya out safely?”
“Yeah. So the plan is, we take a ride. We find a nice comfy patch of grass in the ditch. And we kick back for a while. You watch, I… do my thing. I come out, we hop on our bikes and head back here.”
“Good plan,” Germain said. “If you’re not back in an hour, I’ll go to Plan B unless I hear from you otherwise. I hope this works.”
“Me, too.”
Chapter 21
I scribbled out the descriptions for Germain before heading outside. There was no visible leakage when I examined the motorcycle’s front forks. I shrugged as I straightened, trying to hide the way my heart thumped painfully at the thought of getting on the bike again.
Hellhound caught my eye. “Fuck it, it’s a rental.”
I forced a laugh, trying to relieve the tension while we donned our jackets and helmets.
Clutching the handgrips with aching fingers, I led the way past Harchman’s place once, watching for any evidence of guards or dogs. All seemed quiet. We pulled a U-turn several miles down the road and idled back to a spot I thought would work.
We rode the bikes down into the shallow ditch and dismounted. As I pulled off my helmet, Hellhound stopped me.
“Maybe ya should keep that on.”
“It’s too damn hot. I’ll suffocate if I’m not moving. Besides, who keeps their helmet on when they’re relaxing by the side of the road?”
He gave me a twisted smile. “Darlin’, ya looked like the best wet dream I ever had, ridin’ over that hill with your hair flyin’ in the wind. But I don’t mind if I never see it again. I’d rather ya rode safe.”
“Me, too,” I assured him. “But I don’t think we’ll end up leaving here in a hurry. We’re too exposed. By the time we know we have to move, there won’t be time to get away. If we have to move that fast, I won’t be going with you.”
“I ain’t gonna leave ya,” he said seriously.
“Arnie, it’s not a discussion. If the shit hits the fan, take the watch and run like hell. And if you can’t escape, take it and throw it away where it can’t be found.”
His jaw set. “I can do that.”
I had a feeling I hadn’t won that argument, but I didn’t see what else I could do. I sighed. “Okay. You know the drill, right? If you need me to wake up, put the signalling device against my watch and press the button. Anything else happens, take the watch and run.”
“Got it.”
I lowered myself to the ground. “Let’s hope this works. Let’s hope I’m close enough.”
He sprawled on his back beside me, one elbow crooked behind his head. His other arm pulled me close. “Good luck, darlin’.”
I laid my head on his chest, listening to the steady, reassuring beat of his heart. Insects hummed in the hot grass, and I wished we were nothing more than we appeared. Two people out for a pleasant day’s biking, a rest and a cuddle by the side of the road, and then maybe a nice meal and a cold beer. And maybe a hot night.
I closed my eyes and drifted into the void.
I checked each room, finding all the first ones vacant. Thank goodness, Harchman had apparently concluded his fantasy and left. As I approached the firewall, I steeled myself for what I might find in the next branch.
Reluctantly, I peered into the room where I’d discovered the prisoner. It was clean and vacant. Nice thing about virtual torture, no messy cleanup afterward. I swallowed queasiness, trying to harden myself with the black humour.
Moving slowly to the next room, I hesitated, still swallowing hard. I already knew I didn’t want to look inside. Raised male voices and the sounds of heavy impact seeped through the door. Each impact was accompanied by a hoarse grunt. I was afraid I knew that voice.
I had to look.
I peeked in. My meal tried to escape and I jerked back into the corridor, gulping air and swallowing sour bile.
These men seemed to enjoy destroying their victims’ faces. The raw meat from the neck up could have been anybody, but I could easily identify Kane’s short dark hair and massive upper body.
Unlike the others, he was suspended by his wrists from the ceiling. They had apparently finished with his face and gone on to other pursuits. I tried not to think about the wounds on the rest of his body, but my memory persisted in showing me the nightmare image whole.
Without conscious thought, I propelled my insubstantial self through the wall and into the room. Inside, the smell of burned human flesh made me gag helplessly. One of the men was yelling questions at Kane, so the sound was masked. The thud of the iron bar hitting Kane’s ribs galvanized me into action.
Frantic to make them stop, I was halfway across the room before reason reasserted itself. It was a simulation. If I attacked them now, Harchman would know there was somebody else in the sim. They would redouble security. We couldn’t afford it.
Surely they would have to stop soon. They wouldn’t kill him until they got the information they wanted, would they?
There was an alarming amount of blood. Kane’s breath was stertorous, each inhalation a rattling groan. He couldn’t last much longer. They’d have to stop.
Another wave of nausea clenched my gut. Even though it was a sim, I
knew Kane was feeling every injury as if it was real. I couldn’t let him suffer like this.
I floated above his head. Sending my voice right next to his ear, I whispered, barely breathing.
“John. It’s Aydan. You’re in a sim. If you understand, move your right hand.”
He tensed and groaned again. The clenched fist of his right hand opened slowly before squeezing closed again.
“Who are you working for? Where have you hidden the fob?” Another savage blow landed. Kane’s body jerked, an agonized grunt wrenching from him. The side of his battered chest was already caved in and misshapen. Shattered ribs for sure, and probably a collapsed lung…
I gulped down nausea and whispered again. “John, I’m going to take away your pain now. You’ll feel me touch your head. Then you’ll feel a sensation like cool water running through your body. You’ll still look wounded, but the pain will be completely gone.”
God forgive me the lie. It was a sim. If he believed, it should happen.
I reached slowly and carefully toward his head, trying to judge the distance. When my fingertips touched his hair, his entire body went suddenly limp, dangling lifelessly from his chained wrists.
Panic lanced through my heart. Had I killed him? I fumbled down his neck, searching for a pulse. Thank God, I felt the rapid beat. I withdrew quickly, making his blood vanish from my invisible fingers.
One of the torturers grunted. “Shit. He passed out.”
The other man shrugged. “Whatever. Time for a smoke anyway. Come back later.” They turned and went through the portal.
Just another day at the office for them. I should have killed them where they stood.
I threw my whisper again. “John, I’m going to move in front of you so we can talk. Keep your head down. Try not to react if I touch you, because I can’t see what I’m doing. If you understand, take a deep breath.”
His crushed chest rose and fell with a bubbling sound, blood drooling from what was left of his lips. I floated around in front of him, trying not to look at the appalling damage. At close range, the burns were horrific, and the smell of them made my stomach roil. I manoeuvred carefully, instinctively trying to avoid touching him even though I knew he wouldn’t feel the pain.
“I’m in front of you now,” I breathed. “You can whisper to me, and I’ll hear.”
“’Hanks.”
I glanced down as I puzzled over that. I clamped down hard on control when I realized the white bits scattered on the blood-covered floor were his teeth. His face was so destroyed he could barely form words.
“You’re welcome.”
“Aydan, ge’ ou’. ‘oo dangerous.”
“I’m not staying. I just need to know where your physical body is. We’re coming to get you.”
“Gues’ house. Gues’ room. ‘oo doors down on righ’. Guards.”
“How many?”
“’Oo. ‘ha I saw. One ou’side room. One a’ gues’ house door.”
“Plus the two that were here?”
“Ya.”
“Have you seen Harchman?”
“No.”
“Are you tied to the ceiling like this in the guest room?”
“No. ‘ied ‘oo a shair. ‘Ha’s how I knew i’ was a sim. ‘hey screwed up.”
“Hold on. I’m going to go take a look. I’ll be right back.”
I floated through the wall again and found the nearest portal. I wasn’t sure if this would work or not. I willed a transparent window and floated a safe distance away, peering through my viewport.
I was looking out at the highway. Hellhound lay comfortably stretched out at the side of the ditch, one knee drawn up, one arm behind his head. His other arm cradled my head on his chest. Despite his relaxed posture, his eyes scanned alertly.
Shit.
I drifted back. “When I look through a portal, I can only see where I came from. I can’t see where you came from.”
“S’okay. Shair’s no’ ‘ha’ s’rong. I ‘hink I could ge’ free. Bu’ I couldn’ leave ‘he sim.”
“I have an idea. You need to be invisible now. I’ll create a construct that looks exactly like you. I need you to imagine that you’re invisible and insubstantial. Just float up above your own head. If it works, come and float about three feet in front of your body. Remember I’m here in front of you, so leave me some space.”
“’Kay. Gonna do i’ now.”
I watched, holding his image in my mind. Nothing happened.
Shit, shit, shit! Now what?
I jerked and bit off a shriek when something thudded into my back. I whirled and made contact with something I couldn’t see. A large hand closed on my shoulder, and then I was wrapped in Kane’s invisible arms.
I felt his breath on my cheek. “That’s an ugly mess, isn’t it?” he whispered, his speech no longer impaired by the maimed face.
I tightened trembling arms around him. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry! I should have told you how to do the invisibility before we left. You didn’t have to suffer like that.”
“I had to anyway. I couldn’t take a chance on letting them know I knew I was in a sim. Thanks for the pain relief. How did you do that?”
“I didn’t. You did.”
There was a moment of silence. “Damn. I didn’t think of that.” I felt him shrug. “You said you had a plan.”
“Not really, yet. This was just supposed to be recon. But I just had a thought. Those two were in the guest room with you when you went into the sim, right?”
“Yes.”
“So if you were able to get free with your physical body, you could take them out if they were busy in the network?”
“Yes, but as soon as I disappear from the sim, they’ll know. I don’t think the guest rooms are monitored, but the sim definitely is. The guard at the door would be on me in seconds.”
“What if… shit!”
The two men stepped into the virtual room again. I towed Kane with me up to the ceiling and into a back corner. His construct dangled from its chains, groaning and coughing weakly. As the torture began anew, Kane and I continued our whispered conversation. I blocked out the gruesome activity as best I could, knowing the captors’ own expectations would maintain the construct as long as they suspected nothing.
“I’ll go look through the portal and see where they’re positioned.”
I felt Kane move away. There was muffled thud from the vicinity of the wall, then silence. I kept my back to the action in the room, but I could still hear all too clearly.
Kane’s construct was beginning to sob feebly, driven by the expectations of its torturers. The harrowing sound drove me to the limits of my control. Clinging desperately to composure, I imposed my will over the construct, and it subsided into groaning again.
Something grazed my arm and I jumped, my nerves stretched to breaking. Large, unseen hands closed on my shoulders, and Kane’s invisible forehead thumped into my cheekbone. I felt him readjust, and his lips brushed my ear. “Dammit! This is harder to do than I thought. Did you hear me hit the wall?”
“I did, but they didn’t.”
“Good. They’re still in the guest room with my body. You were saying…” Kane prompted.
“What if I stay here and maintain your construct while you go back into your body and kill them in real life? Do you think you could take the guard, too?”
“With the element of surprise, yes. But if they die in real life, they’ll disappear from the sim.”
“Not if I maintain constructs of them. You could be long gone from the guest house before anybody ever knows anything has happened.”
“That could work,” he murmured. “There’s something strange going on with security. I think I could probably get off the property on foot. But that leaves you here. That’s completely unacceptable.”
“No, that leaves me and Hellhound having a nap in the ditch outside the property. You could meet us there. Once you’re there, I could pull out of the network. By the time the alarm was ra
ised, we’d all be down the road.”
“Risky. But it could work. I need to think it through.”
“Fine. I need to go back and check in with Hellhound. We’re running out of time before Germain fires up Plan B. We’ll have to contact him. Meet you back here in a few minutes.”
I gratefully fled back to my portal. I stepped through very slowly and carefully. Now would be a bad time to be incapacitated.
The usual red-hot knives sliced and diced my brain, and I cried out and jerked my arms protectively over my head. The residual shock and horror of the sim combined with the physical pain to turn my curses into half-sobs, and I fought the tears that burned the backs of my eyes as I writhed.
No time, no time. I forced myself to uncurl, opening blind eyes. When vision returned, I found myself clasped against Hellhound’s warm chest. He muttered rough comfort while he held me and stroked my hair.
I pulled away, wiping my eyes, and drew in a ragged breath. “All clear?”
“Yeah, darlin’, what..?” His face was filled with worry.
“No time,” I interrupted. “I’m going to get Kane out. He should be here in twenty minutes, half an hour tops if all goes well. I need you to call Germain, tell him we’re okay and to give us another half-hour. Kane should be coming through the trees here from the direction of the buildings. Signal me as soon as you see or hear him. He can take the Honda, you can double me back on the Harley. Got it?”
“Got it.” He was reaching for his phone when I dove back into the void.
I folded virtual space and appeared directly outside the room. Trying to ignore the atrocities within, I floated slowly and carefully up to the corner of the ceiling. I muffled a grunt when I collided with Kane.
His arms closed around me, and I quested blindly for his ear. “We’re all set,” I whispered. “We’re beside the road just where it swings around close to the building site. Head straight north from here. You’ll have half an hour, give or take, to get there. I’ll hold the constructs here until Arnie signals me. Then you can take the Honda, and I’ll ride back with him on the Harley.”
The Spy Is Cast Page 15