Spy, Spy Away

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Spy, Spy Away Page 8

by Diane Henders


  As much as I appreciated his demonstration from a purely aesthetic standpoint, it did nothing to increase my confidence.

  Germain turned to me. “Your turn. Don’t let this show-off rattle you.” He gave Kane a friendly punch on the shoulder. “I’ll take him down a peg or two in the hand-to-hand combat qualification.”

  “In your dreams,” Kane retorted, grinning.

  I faced the obstacle course with trepidation. The distance was negligible compared to my usual runs, but with that time limit, I wouldn’t have much breath to spare for jumping and climbing. I’d have to pace myself…

  “Start whenever you’re ready,” Germain said.

  “Call my lap times.” I sucked in a deep breath and began at an easy run.

  I stayed on pace for the first couple of laps, but my inadequate sleep and incomplete breakfast sapped my strength. By the last lap, I was drenched in sweat, my heart hammering my ribs.

  “Go, go! You’re doing fine!”

  Kane and Germain shouted encouragement from the sidelines, but I knew I was already lagging.

  “Push-pull! Go for it! Come on, Aydan!”

  I staggered over to the apparatus, sucking air. Seventy pounds was well within my usual capability, but my body shook uncontrollably and nausea climbed the back of my throat.

  “Come on, Aydan, go, go!”

  I heaved on the apparatus, my sweat slicking the handgrips. One. Two. Three…

  My temples pounded with the thunder of my heart, my strength trickling away like the sweat from my body.

  “Come on, Aydan!”

  Four…

  I knew I’d failed when my cheering section fell silent.

  Five…

  Dammit, I’d do this if it fucking killed me…

  Six.

  I collapsed to the mat, heaving for breath.

  “Good try, Aydan. You almost made it. You’ll get it next time.”

  Still gasping, I squinted up at Germain. “What… about… the carry?”

  “You don’t have to do it. The test is over.”

  “Gonna… do it.”

  “Okay. Two minutes rest, and then the weight carry.” Germain’s voice held the sympathy reserved for certain failure.

  I nodded, sprawled panting and trembling on the floor. Sweat poured off me. Two minutes of rest. I would do this, dammit. I’d already failed, but I’d damn well give it my best.

  “Time.” Germain’s prompt came far too soon.

  I stumbled to my feet and staggered over to the sack. “How much… time… do I have?” My voice was a raw croak, my breathing still ragged.

  “It’s not timed. You get three tries.”

  “Fine.”

  I squatted and gripped the sack. My trembling legs strained, barely straightening under the weight. With the sack hugged awkwardly to my chest, I managed to stagger a couple of steps before it slipped from my grasp and thudded to the floor.

  Resisting the urge to lie down beside it and cry, I hunched over, elbows on knees, gasping for air. My head pounded as if it would explode, the metallic taste in the back of my throat nearly gagging me.

  Do it.

  I grabbed the sack again.

  Lift.

  Walk, dammit.

  When it fell from my shaking arms after a single step, I knew I was done.

  “Fuck… you… bastard…” I grated.

  I hauled on the sack again, my lips drawing back in a snarl of rage.

  The floor jumped up and smacked me.

  Drenched in sweat and embarrassment, I sprawled on the hard floor, my body heaving with my struggle to suck in more air.

  “Aydan!”

  The floor vibrated under the thunder of running footsteps, and a moment later Kane knelt beside me, his face creased with worry.

  “’M… okay,” I gasped.

  Germain appeared on my other side a moment later. “Just lie still. Ambulance is on the way.”

  “Not… ‘nother… fuggin… ‘mbulance…” I couldn’t seem to catch my breath. I struggled to sit up, but failed when two sets of hands restrained me.

  Failed.

  Fuck.

  I forced my mouth back under control. “Just need… orange juice,” I enunciated carefully between gasps. “Be fine… in a… few minutes. Try again.”

  Kane and Germain exchanged a glance. “I think you’d better get checked…” Germain began.

  “Especially since you passed out yesterday,” Kane added.

  “Just give me the goddamn orange juice!” My humiliation burst out in a shout that made both men start.

  Kane scowled down at me. “Go and get it yourself.”

  Germain shot him a worried look. “I don’t think that’s a good idea-”

  “Fine!” I tried to jerk upright and managed a twitch that raised my head and shoulders a couple of inches off the floor and made the room whirl around me. I collapsed back into two pairs of waiting hands and clamped my eyes shut, willing the nausea away.

  “Smartass…” I muttered. “Hate it… when you’re right…”

  “What in heaven’s name possessed you to do your qualification less than twenty-four hours after sedation and with no breakfast?” Dr. Roth fixed me with a gimlet eye.

  I picked at the edge of the tape holding my IV line. “Sorry,” I mumbled. “I thought the sedation would be gone. And the breakfast thing was an accident. I guess I just wasn’t thinking.”

  “Aydan, I don’t want you to apologize.” She squeezed my hand, and I looked up to read the concern in her eyes. “I know your job description doesn’t include words like ‘careful’ and ‘safe’, but I just hate to see you push yourself like this.”

  I shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. “I’ll be smarter next time.”

  She sighed. “All right. I’ll get Linda to take out your IV and do your discharge. Your bloodwork is fine, and I can’t find anything wrong with you other than an excess of optimism and a severe deficiency in judgement. We’ll do another glucose-tolerance test later, but I’m fairly sure it’ll come back as normal as the last one we did. Just remember to eat frequent small meals, lots of whole grains…” She trailed off as I nodded. “I know you know all these things. Next time, pay attention to them.”

  “I will. Thanks. Sorry to bother you again.”

  “It’s all right. That’s what I’m here for.”

  Chapter 10

  When I pulled aside the curtain of the emergency-room cubicle, Spider rose from the waiting chair to walk beside me, smiling. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

  “Thanks. And thanks for bringing my clothes.” I hefted the bag containing my sweat-clammy gym gear. “I wouldn’t have wanted to wear this stuff back to the office. Sorry you had to go to all this trouble for me, though.”

  “I don’t mind.” We stepped out into the cold sunlight and he shot me a conspiratorial glance as we crunched across the snow of the parking lot. “It was a good excuse to see Linda.” A flush rose on his cheeks. “I’m… I’m going to give her a ring for Christmas.”

  I halted to stare up at him, happiness bubbling up into a grin. “Seriously?” At his pink-faced nod, I flung my arms around him. “Oh, Spider, congratulations!” I gave him a squeeze before releasing him. “That’s so great! I’m so happy for you!”

  “Don’t congratulate me yet.” He eyed me anxiously. “What if she says no?”

  “She won’t. She’s crazy about you.”

  “Don’t tell anybody, okay? I want it to be a surprise.”

  “Of course I won’t.” I let out a giggle of pure joy. “Oh, this makes my day!” I sobered as we resumed our walk to his car, remembering exactly what my day had been like so far. “Shit, Spider, I failed my qualification. What do you think Stemp will do?”

  “I don’t know.” He frowned at his feet. “He told me to send you straight to his office when we get back.”

  “Shit.”

  “Kraus is dead.”

  I stiffened, staring at Stemp’s impassive features. “What
?”

  “Kraus died of a heart attack last night. Apparently the strain of the last few days was too much for him.”

  I sagged into his guest chair, my mind whirling. Those were the last words I had expected to hear when I’d trailed reluctantly into Stemp’s office a few moments ago.

  Shock congealed into suspicion. “Were you by any chance interrogating him in the sim at the time?”

  “No. He died several hours later.”

  I eyed his inscrutable face and decided not to ask awkward questions. I had other priorities. My heart thudded rapidly in my chest and I drew a deep breath, holding my voice steady. “What did you discover in your interrogation?”

  “You were correct. He had been inside your mind. He had accessed all your memories.”

  My breath stopped. Stemp’s face receded slowly and a faint buzzing filled my ears.

  “And…?” I barely managed to squeeze the word out through stiff lips.

  “And he told no one.”

  “He… what...? Are you sure?”

  “My interrogation was very… thorough. The lie detector corroborated his statements.”

  “So…” I tried to take another deep breath, forgetting I hadn’t released the first one yet. “What did you find out?” My voice came out thin and high-pitched.

  He held me with his unsettling amber gaze before responding. “Without knowing exactly what you know, I couldn’t press for specifics. The lie detector only evaluates yes or no statements. I simply confirmed that he hadn’t leaked information of any sort.”

  Kane was safe. Thank God.

  I let out the breath I’d been holding for hours, trying not to blow the papers off his desk. Only one worry left. “Did you ask about… Bulgaria?”

  Stemp’s eyes narrowed. “Yes. I was quite insistent about that. He specifically denied sharing that information with anyone at any time. The lie detector confirmed it.”

  “Thank God.” I slumped back in my chair. “Thank God. I was just sick when I thought…”

  His face softened. “Thank you for your concern. Unwarranted, fortunately.”

  I nodded mutely, too drained to respond. Sam, dead. A twisted mixture of relief and sorrow swamped my heart. I still believed he had meant well. Foolish, idealistic, selfish and thoughtless, but ultimately altruistic. May his soul find mercy. And Stemp’s soul, too, for the murder I had no doubt he’d recently committed. God forgive me for tacitly accepting that.

  Stemp’s voice interrupted my uncomfortable reflections. “So you failed the physical qualification.”

  I jerked my chin up. “I told you I would.”

  “Residual sedation and low blood sugar due to fasting, the doctor’s report says.” The corner of his mouth twitched. “I must say I’m impressed with your creativity. Tell me, were you faking unconsciousness yesterday just so you could arrange to be sedated?”

  I scowled. “No.”

  “That’s unfortunate.” He held me for a moment in his dispassionate gaze. “If I reschedule your qualification in a few weeks, do you think you might pass it then?”

  “Probably,” I muttered. “If I step up my workouts between now and then, and as long as I eat properly that day.”

  “And may I assume you’ll fail the firearms qualification today as well? Considering that unlike my regular agents, I can’t confiscate your weapon pending successful completion of the test?”

  “I’ll do my best. But yeah, I’ll probably fail.”

  “So I should reschedule that test in several weeks, too, to allow you a plausible amount of practice time in the training range.”

  “A reasonable amount of practice time.”

  “Of course.” The humorous twitch tugged at his mouth again. “Very well. Your dedication to your cover is impressive, if inconvenient. Go and fail your test.”

  Yeah, I failed.

  The test might have been fun under different circumstances. My years of trap shooting made reacting to moving targets an enjoyable challenge, but I was jumpy and disoriented in the darkness and flashing lights. And I had never needed to evaluate the appropriateness of my targets before.

  Slinking shamefacedly out of the practice range, I avoided Germain’s gaze after blowing away several innocent bystanders as well as all the bad guys in the simulation.

  “Nice clean shots,” he mumbled. “Sorry, Aydan. You were just nervous, that’s all. You’ll pass next time.”

  I sighed. “Thanks, Carl, but I sucked. When can I get back into the range to practice?”

  “Any time it’s not in use. The schedule is available through the network.” He changed the subject with obvious relief and turned with me toward the door. “Let’s get going. Stemp’s expecting you.”

  When we stepped into the time-delay chamber I drew a deep, shaky breath, mentally counting down the time delay. I twitched when Germain spoke. “That was some nice shooting.”

  “Yeah, except for the part where I killed the innocent civilians.”

  “You must practice a lot.”

  I spent a moment fervently wishing he’d shut up before realizing he was trying to distract me from my claustrophobia.

  I forced my face into a smile. “Yeah, I shoot a lot at home…” The lock released and I sprang into the lobby, sucking in a frantic breath of freedom.

  Germain eyed me with concern. “You’d better sit down for a minute. You’re shaking like a leaf.”

  “I’m okay.” I drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. “It’s just that damn coffin-chamber. It always freaks me out.”

  “All right, if you’re sure.”

  I shot a glance at him as he strode beside me toward the stairs to the second floor. “You don’t need to escort me. I’m fine.”

  “I know, but Stemp asked me to come up with you after your firearms qualification.” Germain gave me a wry twist of his lips. “Your impromptu trip to the hospital threw a bit of a wrench in the works. You’ve only got half an hour left to call Hibbert before noon, so Stemp asked Kane and me to be there while you make your call. That way we’ll be prepared for the briefing at one.”

  Shit, I’d forgotten about that call. I threw out the first conversational gambit that came to mind, hiding the icy clutch of fear in my stomach. “I’m sorry I threw you off schedule.”

  “It’s okay, you didn’t really. We did Kane’s hand-to-hand combat qualification while you were at the hospital.”

  I eyed him cautiously as we mounted the last few steps. He seemed to be favouring his left leg.

  “Did he pass?”

  Germain let out a rueful laugh. “Oh, hell yes. I’d have been shocked if he didn’t. If I’m having a really good day, we’re about evenly matched.” He gained the top step, wincing. “Today wasn’t a really good day.”

  I dredged up a semblance of tact. “Well, he does have a hell of a lot longer reach than you. You must be really good if you can match him at all. I’ll never forget the time I saw him take out three guys at the same time.”

  He grinned. “Thanks, my ego needed to hear that.” He motioned me forward to Stemp’s door. “After you.”

  I drew a deep breath and tapped on the door. At Stemp’s ‘Come’, I swung it open and paused, surveying the room’s occupants suspiciously.

  Kane and Stemp met my gaze with their usual aplomb, but Dr. Rawling looked distinctly perturbed.

  What the hell was he doing here?

  “Um… hi.” I shot a questioning glance at the doctor. “Um…?”

  He uncrossed his arms and indicated the chair beside him, his features rearranging themselves into their usual placidity. “Hello, Aydan. Please sit.” He gave me one of his sympathetic smiles, his kind eyes appraising me.

  I sidled into the room and pulled the chair back toward the wall where I could see everyone without having to swivel my head. Kane and Germain shared an amused glance, and I allowed them a small smile in return. They knew me too well.

  Stemp shot a look at the doctor. “Dr. Rawling, if you intend to have your say, d
o it now. We’re running out of time.”

  Rawling leaned toward me, those damn kind eyes seeing more than they should. “Aydan,” he said gently. “How do you feel about going back to active duty?”

  I shifted in the chair and applied a tremendous effort of will to prevent my gaze from sliding sideways. “Fine.”

  “Aydan. This is a safe place. You’ve told me you trust your colleagues. You can trust them with your true feelings.” His sorrowing-Buddha expression filled me with my usual intense desire to flee screaming. Or burst into the foulest invective I could muster and watch his ears bleed.

  I squirmed again and avoided his gaze, but a glance at Kane and Germain revealed sympathetic expressions on their faces, too.

  Goddamn sympathy!

  Thank goodness Stemp still wore his usual stone-faced façade. I focused on his unprepossessing features with relief. “Fuzzy Bunny is recruiting me. I’m the only one who can do this.” I emulated Kane’s easy shrug. “So, fine.”

  Stemp nodded. “Very well. In that case-”

  “Director Stemp.” Dr. Rawling’s quiet voice overrode him effortlessly. “As I pointed out earlier, Aydan has been making excellent progress, but returning her to stressful situations prematurely is likely to trigger some undesirable reactions.”

  I flashed back guiltily to my childish behaviour of the previous day. Name calling and temper tantrums. Is that why Rawling was here? Had Stemp ratted me out?

  Probably, the bastard. I was working up a good head of indignation when it occurred to me that Kane had accused me of childishness last night, too.

  Shit.

  Dr. Rawling turned back to me suddenly, startling me out of my embarrassed recollection. “Aydan, did you sleep well last night?”

  “Um…” No escape, short of lying outright. “Not… not great. But I had a lot on my mind…”

  “Nightmares?”

  I scuffed a toe at the carpet, wishing I could burrow into its short pile. “A few. But…” I straightened to meet his eyes squarely. “It doesn’t really matter, does it? If we want to take advantage of this, I’m it.” I shot a glance at my watch. Fifteen minutes. “And we’re running out of time. I’m only agreeing to deliver a piece of paper. It’s not like I’m going undercover for the next six months.”

 

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