Spy, Spy Away

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Spy, Spy Away Page 31

by Diane Henders


  He rose and left me staring blindly at the rosewood wall panelling.

  The rosewood offered no epiphanies even after several minutes of intense contemplation, and I shook myself back to the present when Thomas appeared at my elbow.

  “May I offer you a drink?” His blond good looks and sparkling smile were balm to my eyes, and the thought of a drink was pure heaven.

  “Yes, please. Beer, if you’ve got it.”

  “Of course, we have several.” He reeled off a list, but the names bombarded my aching brain meaninglessly.

  “Thank you, that last one sounds good,” I mumbled when the words stopped.

  A few minutes later, icy bubbles tickled my tongue and I let out a heartfelt sigh. After a few delicious swallows, my brain ground into gear again.

  Parr had believed me. Or was pretending to believe me, anyway. So I’d likely survive the trip.

  I toasted that thought with a deep swallow of beer, and suppressed a belch while I considered the possibilities. I’d been too rattled to try to extract any information about the secret weapon from Parr this time, but I’d have other chances if the ‘retainer’ meant what I thought it did. And Stemp and Dermott were going to pee their pants in sheer delight over that.

  My thoughts wandered to the memory of Kane and Yana locked in an embrace. I hoped my presence wouldn’t spoil Kane’s wedding day.

  But why should it? We were friends, after all. Two detours into bed didn’t count for anything. I had told him not to read any meaning into them, and he obviously hadn’t.

  So that was okay.

  I tipped up the bottle and gulped its soothing contents.

  By the time we touched down in Vegas a couple of beers later, fatigue and alcohol made rising from the soft leather seat a herculean task. I made it to my feet without actually swearing out loud, and managed to return Eleanor Parr’s gracious farewell with a fair approximation of good manners.

  The limo was an exercise in nauseated misery while we wallowed through the lights and traffic of the late-night Strip. When I finally reached my room after navigating the check-in queue and the interminable hallway, I trudged inside to fall face-first onto the bed.

  When my complaining bladder woke me, the lights of the Strip still glared through the open draperies and the illuminated clock read two-fourteen. I hauled myself upright, easing the kink out of my neck and trying to convince myself that somebody else couldn’t possibly have been eating shit with my mouth.

  After a trip to the bathroom to scrub away the vile taste and rid myself of the processed beer, I staggered over to close the draperies and set the alarm. I was about to fall into bed again when I remembered Dermott would expect a report.

  Damn.

  At least it was an easy decision to choose the new, painless network key. I plugged the network generator into the laptop and hesitated before setting the computer on the opposite side of the king-sized bed. Stretching out on my back on the other side, I briefly reflected that if for some reason I ended up comatose, at least I’d be comfortable.

  Then I closed my eyes and slipped into the network.

  Fearfully recalling my disorientation the last time I’d gone into the Sirius servers, I seeded tiny snippets of data all over the Venetian’s network and along the data paths I followed through the internet. I’d lose most of them when the connections shifted as they always did, but if there were enough of them, I might find a few.

  Please God, let me find a few.

  Because there was nobody to call me home.

  Too frightened to even consider that, I drove myself down the currents of data.

  Sirius was well-concealed, as usual. By the time I found it at last, I had backtracked so many times and left so many data flags, my anxiety felt like jolts of electricity in my attenuated consciousness. Gathering my data bits, I quivered in the data flow for a moment before flinging myself at the server.

  Chaos seized me, fear exploding my tumbled packets like a grenade. Hurling bits of myself to safety, I gradually gathered my scattered consciousness. Ignoring the disorientation, I focused on the Sirius server.

  I was getting better at this. I wouldn’t panic.

  I launched myself at the server again.

  And again.

  And at last I was in.

  Suppressing a sob of relief, I hurried down the blessedly familiar virtual corridors to file my report. The network was deserted at that hour and I hovered like a desolate ghost, wishing for the warmth of Spider’s laughter or Germain’s sturdy muscular presence.

  Or Kane…

  I shook off that thought.

  I could have created constructs of them in the sim, but it seemed creepy to do that, and anyway, the embarrassing data records would be there for all to see in the morning if I did.

  I dropped my file into the repository and slipped out into the internet again without making myself visible.

  The trip back to the Venetian’s network was equal parts terror and tedium. Terror when the data connections shifted like desert sand, leaving me lost in a trackless wasteland. Tedium while I slowly retrieved every one of my data flags, mindlessly searching and gathering until at last the portal appeared in the distance.

  Several minutes later, I heaved a lungless sigh of relief and stepped through.

  The alarm blared like the trumpets of Judgement Day.

  “Jesus Christ!” I levitated several inches off the bed, my heart trying to batter its way out of my chest. Eyes still glued shut, I flailed ineffectually in the direction of the horrible noise and made solid contact with a backhand. The resulting crash generated blessed silence, and I fell back on the pillow, panting.

  After a few minutes I managed to pat my heart back into my chest and pry my eyes open. The laptop sat black and silent on the opposite side of the bed. I didn’t remember waking up after leaving the network, so either I’d been in a coma until the alarm went off or I’d fallen asleep right after regaining consciousness.

  I made a mental note to ask Jack about that. Maybe I only regained consciousness if somebody shook me or there was a loud noise. That was a scary thought. If I hadn’t set the alarm, would I still be passed out on the bed, not waking until the hotel staff barged in?

  I pushed away my surge of fear. Never mind. I was awake now.

  I headed for the shower, still quivering.

  By ten o’clock I was back in the room, decked out once again in clothes I never would have chosen and hovering nervously in front of the mirror. I had thrown myself on the mercy of one of the Venetian’s exclusive shops, and regretted it. This outfit lacked the winter coat and boots that I’d purchased in Calgary, but made up for them with an extra decimal place on the bill. I hoped Parr wouldn’t freak out.

  Sighing, I packed my suitcase and hesitated over the laptop. Parr’s jet didn’t leave until three o’clock, and I couldn’t see schlepping my bag and laptop case with me for the next several hours. But I didn’t dare leave the USB network generator with the laptop. The bell desk was undoubtedly secure, but…

  No.

  I hesitated for a moment before extracting the secured phone from my waist pouch to make room for the USB device. Then I dropped the phone and waist pouch into the capacious handbag I’d purchased, and hurried for the door.

  The trip to the chapel was uneventful, but my heart pounded as though I’d been running beside the taxi instead of riding in it. When I stepped out of the cab at a quarter to eleven, the parking lot was empty and the doors of the small chapel were closed.

  I eyed the building uncertainly. This was definitely the right place. Maybe they’d arrived early and the service was already in progress?

  I drifted toward the chapel but trailed to a halt. What was I going to do, stick my face up against the window and gawk inside? That’d be a nice wedding memory for Kane.

  I tried the door instead, and found it locked. That was a relief. Sort of. Either they hadn’t arrived yet, or they’d come early and already left.

  “Miss O
rlov?”

  The voice from behind made me start guiltily, and I turned to face the slim young man who was eyeing me questioningly.

  “Um, no, I’m a guest.”

  “Oh. Well, they should be here shortly,” he reassured me. “Why don’t you wait in the pergola? I’ll let you know when the ceremony is about to start.”

  I was several steps along the path and almost behind the building when the hushing of tires on pavement made me turn to see a black limo pulling up.

  Frozen, I watched while Kane emerged and rounded the car to offer his hand to Yana. When they stood together on the sidewalk like the bride and groom figurines from a particularly high-class wedding cake, I swallowed the lump in my throat.

  Kane’s powerful shoulders and taut midriff were displayed to advantage in a perfectly-tailored dark suit and crisp white shirt, the distinguished silver at his temples frosting his dark hair. Yana’s elegant white gown accented a perfect hourglass figure, and a short veil sparkled like snowflakes against the satin blackness of her chic coiffure. Diamonds glittered at her throat and earlobes as she gazed up at Kane.

  Completely wrapped up in her, he leaned down to whisper in her ear. She responded with a sultry chuckle, her hand gliding over his chest.

  Feeling like a voyeur, I backed away, but the movement caught Kane’s attention. He straightened, his brows snapping together. In a few long strides, he closed the distance between us.

  “What are you doing here?” he demanded sotto voce.

  “I…”

  “Don’t spoil this for me.” Muscles rippled in his jaw and he gave me an imploring look. “Please.”

  I tried, but I knew I hadn’t hidden my stab of hurt. “Of course I won’t.” My words came out stiffly despite my best efforts. “You should know I wouldn’t.”

  Yana hurried over, casting an anxious glance from Kane to me, and I pulled myself together to offer the best smile I could manufacture. “Hi, Yana, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Arlene Widdenback, and Nick Parr asked me to come and offer best wishes from him and his wife, and on behalf of the company.” I dared a glance at Kane, but he was still frowning.

  “Congratulations to both of you,” I added. “I hope I’m not intruding…”

  “But of course not,” she responded, a trace of accent giving her warm contralto an exotic appeal. “You are a friend of John’s, too, yes?”

  I nodded without looking at Kane. Maybe not so much anymore.

  “Then you are most welcome.” She embraced me lightly, air-kissing me on both cheeks. “Thank you for coming.”

  It would have been better if she had angrily dismissed me. I huddled in the back corner of the chapel, hoping Kane could pretend I wasn’t there during the short ceremony.

  The words were simple and meaningful, and the minister managed to sound utterly sincere despite my certainty that he said the same words every hour on the hour, three hundred and sixty-five days a year, for an endless parade of couples.

  Kane said his vows in a strong, clear voice, his full attention focused on his bride, and she reprised the vows warmly, touching a delicate fingertip to her brimming eyes.

  Then the deed was done and the minister pronounced them man and wife as though nothing greater had ever happened in the world.

  And for them it hadn’t. Their happiness glowed like the Vegas sun.

  While they shared a lingering kiss, I slipped out the chapel doors and around the corner to fumble in my bag for my phone.

  I had just dialled the cab company when Yana hurried around the corner, towing Kane by the hand. “You are leaving so soon? Will you instead join us for lunch?”

  A glance at Kane’s stony face was all it took.

  I turned back to Yana. “Thank you, but I can’t. I have another appointment. But congratulations. It was a lovely ceremony, and I hope you’ll have many years of happiness together.”

  She made some politely disappointed noises and air-kissed me again, and after a moment’s hesitation, I offered Kane my hand. He took it with a brief, gentle squeeze, but his expression was remote.

  I was glad when they turned back to their limo, leaving me standing alone outside the chapel.

  Chapter 40

  My remaining time passed too slowly. I ate lunch and bought a book, but it didn’t hold my interest. The constant noise and flow of human traffic abraded my already-raw nerves, and after tolerating it for as long as I could, I phoned the limo service and asked them to pick me up early.

  At the hotel bell desk, a cheerful attendant retrieved my bag and turned to the next customer.

  “Wait.” I flagged him down again. “Where’s my laptop?”

  “Oh, sorry, did we miss something?” He peered at the tag on my suitcase. “No, this says one item.”

  “I had two items. This and a laptop.”

  “Oh…” He eyed me suspiciously. “Can you describe the laptop?”

  Tension ratcheted up in my shoulders. “It was in a plain black case…” Yeah, like every other laptop on the planet. I racked my tired brain, but I couldn’t remember what brand it was. The attendant was still waiting, his face registering equal parts cynicism and impatience.

  I sighed and gave up. “I’m sorry, it was a company laptop and I don’t even know what brand it was. I’ll just leave you my contact information and if you’ve got a laptop left over after everybody else has claimed their luggage, give me a call.”

  I handed him my card with the dark suspicion that he’d simply appropriate the laptop at the end of the day, but at that point I really didn’t care. I had the network generator and the network keys with me, and the laptop was just a bare-bones machine with no critical information on it. In a few hours I’d be home and I could make my report in person. I abandoned it to its fate and headed for my limousine.

  Parr’s flight crew allowed me to board early, and I scurried directly into the well-appointed bathroom to change back into my comfortable jeans and hiking boots. Sinking into one of the soft leather seats in the sitting room, I accepted another icy beer and sparkling smile from Thomas.

  God, this was the life. I laid my head back and stretched my legs luxuriously. I was half-dozing when voices roused me.

  Voices I recognized.

  Shit.

  Kane rounded the corner and stopped dead. “What are you doing here?”

  The undisguised dismay in his voice stabbed a place that was already tender. I drew myself up. “Flying home. What are you doing here?”

  “You can’t…”

  Yana slid her arms around him from behind, tucking herself under his arm. “Hello again, Arlene. Hello, Thomas. Do you have any champagne?”

  Thomas gave his usual half-bow and dazzling smile. “Of course, Ms. Orlov…”

  She laughed, a husky, sexy sound that made me think of 1950s movie stars. “It’s Mrs. Kane now. Wish us congratulations!”

  “Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Kane.” His smile widened. “This certainly does call for champagne.”

  “Yes,” she agreed merrily. “Come, darling, we’re blocking the aisle.” She tugged Kane gently aside to allow another man to push past. The man nodded at us and continued through to the rear cabin without speaking, but he nonetheless gave off a friendlier vibe than Kane, who still stood rigid and glowering.

  “Look, I’m sorry,” I said, holding onto my temper with all my might. “Parr told me to be here. This is the only option I have.”

  Kane blew out a breath and nodded at last. Drawing Yana close, he took a seat with his back to me, pulling her down beside him to murmur in her ear.

  “Fine. Asshole,” I muttered, and dragged my book out of my bag to glare sightlessly at it.

  I read the same words over and over without comprehension during takeoff. At last I gave up and started to turn a page every few minutes so it would look as though I was actually reading.

  When the plane levelled off, Yana glanced back at me before whispering something to Kane. His deep chuckle did nothing to ease my irritation.
>
  She rose, and I stared fiercely at my book, watching her in my peripheral vision while she headed for the serving cart Thomas had parked against the wall while he attended to the man in the rear of the plane.

  Yana extracted a tall, slim bottle before moving back to whisper to Kane again, leaning down to kiss him. He made a playful grab for her, and she eluded his hands, giggling and shaking a reproving finger. “You wait here, darling. I have a surprise for you. I’ll be right back.” She gave him a seductive smile and vanished into the forward cabin.

  I stared at Kane’s broad back, wishing I could ask him what the hell his problem was. Thomas returned to his post at the serving station, and I dropped my gaze to glare at my book again, still fuming.

  Okay, fine, so Kane was married to the love of his life now, but there was no need to treat me like an interloper. After all the times I had assured him I didn’t want anything from him, surely he couldn’t think I’d try to break up his marriage out of spite.

  Yana strode around the corner, calling in her melodious contralto. “Oh, Thomas…”

  He looked up with his usual smile. “Yes, Mrs. K-”

  She pointed the bottle at him and he crumpled without a sound.

  Chapter 41

  Time slowed in a massive burst of adrenaline.

  Thomas. Dead for sure. No mistaking that boneless collapse. Urine darkened his immaculate pants already.

  Yana was still coming. The bottle swung toward me.

  Kane launched from his seat.

  I dove for the floor, away from the lethal bottle-thing.

  Kane and Yana struggled at the edge of my vision but as I rolled, the man from the back ran in.

 

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