Spy, Spy Away

by Diane Henders

  My heart lurched, and I turned away before he could see my reaction. “Be right back.”

  Coat in hand, I pulled on one of Kane’s gloves before squatting beside the serving cart to gingerly tuck the weapon into the coat pocket. Holding the coat at arms’ length, I carried it back to prop it cautiously in the pilot’s seat, making sure the bell end of the bottle pointed away from Kane. He nodded his thanks, and I withdrew again to reconnoitre the exits.

  Beside the serving station, I glanced at the diagram on the over-wing hatch, thankful for all the times I’d booked an exit-row seat on commercial flights for the extra legroom. The flight attendants had given me the briefing often enough. It seemed pretty straightforward.

  I swallowed the tightness in my throat. It wouldn’t be a real emergency. Germain would land us safely and we’d just be faking it. Pretending to be terrified.

  I was doing a great job of that already.

  I made my way into the bedroom at the back of the plane, taking an uncertain step sideways as the plane yawed.

  The rear exit door looked more complicated. The big lever made sense, but there seemed to be another release lever beside it to disengage a locking system. I frowned at it. It didn’t look like rocket science, but who knew?

  The plane dipped suddenly, my stomach soaring in space for an instant before catching up to my body, and I hurried forward again. The floor vibrated as though we were driving over a rough road, and another tricky little yaw made me sidestep to compensate.

  “I have a whole new respect for flight attendants,” I said to Kane as I arrived at the cockpit. “They walk around during this kind of turbulence just like they were on solid ground.”

  He nodded, his lips twisting in a mirthless smile as he stared out the windshield. Germain’s voice crackled over the radio, exchanging a stream of incomprehensible jargon with the air traffic controller. I caught the words ‘smoke in the cabin’.

  “That’s my cue.” My pulse sped up to vibrate in my throat. “Okay, I’m going to go and turn on the element. I’ll take the fire extinguisher and strap into one of the seats in the sitting room so I can supervise my smoke.” I didn’t sound quite so calm anymore. My voice trembled, and Kane reached back to squeeze my hand. I noticed a tremor in his grip, too.

  “See you on the ground,” he said confidently.

  “You bet.”

  Back at the serving station, I tackled one of the little bags of snacks, tugging at the slippery plastic with shaking hands. The packet split abruptly, spraying snacks all over the counter and carpet.

  “Shit!” I dropped to my knees to gather them before stopping to thud my forehead against my hand. Just get another bag, stupid.

  “Everything okay?” Kane’s strained voice drifted from up front.

  “Fine. Just dropped my snacks.”

  I grabbed another bag and tried again, successfully containing the goodies this time to pour them into my foil ring. Then I hefted a fire extinguisher out of its bracket and turned the element on high before I could chicken out.

  Sliding into the seat, I fumbled the seat belt closed one-handed, unwilling to tear my gaze from the cooktop or relinquish the fire extinguisher.

  A few curls of smoke rose, and the disgusting smell of scorched carbohydrate drifted to my nose. The plane began to buck and vibrate in earnest, and I eased out a long breath.

  I’d ridden flights into Calgary’s wild chinook winds lots of times. Nothing unusual. It just meant we were getting closer to the ground. Closer to safety, I corrected myself firmly.

  The bottles in the serving cart clanked and tinkled and the bulkhead above the serving station flexed, creaking. I sent a silent prayer toward the front of the plane. Surely the weapon would be okay. It shouldn’t go off even if it was bumped…

  The smoke thickened, and I yanked my attention back to the element. The snacks were blackening. Good. Just a little longer and then I’d turn the element off.

  Another heart-stopping drop and lurch made the serving cart bounce, the bottles crashing together on its bottom shelf. In the next yaw it rolled partway across the floor, and I realized with chagrin that Thomas would have undoubtedly secured it for landing if he’d still been alive.

  The smash of breaking glass jerked my attention back to the cooktop. As if in slow motion, the shards of the fallen brandy bottle breached my aluminium foil, shoving it over the edge of the counter in a wave of brandy. The alcohol leaped up in bluish flame and the snacks ignited like matches.

  Chapter 49

  “Shit!”

  I tried to spring up from my seat, forgetting my seatbelt. I swore again, whipping the fire extinguisher into position and yanking the pin.

  The wavefront of burning alcohol raced down the front of the serving station to the carpet, igniting the snacks I hadn’t cleaned up earlier.

  “Shit!” I pointed the nozzle at the base of the flames and clamped down on the lever. The plane bounced again, spoiling my aim. Burning brandy and flaming snacks splashed and scattered, setting dozens of tiny bonfires in the carpet.

  “SHIT-SHIT-SHIT!” I yanked the seatbelt free and lunged to my feet.

  “What’s wrong?” Kane’s shout sounded from the front of the plane.

  “Fire!”

  The plane’s unpredictable motion fought me. Staggering, I struggled to direct the nozzle, but only half the flames were out when the spray diminished to a trickle. The acrid smell of burning carpet filled the air, smoke collecting on the ceiling already.

  Kane lunged into view on the other side of the flames, fire extinguisher in hand.

  “Breathing mask by the rear fire extinguishers!” he shouted, sweeping the nozzle back and forth. “Put it on and bring them!”

  I turned to race aft but the plane bucked while I was off balance, slamming me to the floor. A cacophony of shattering glass made me twist in time to see the serving cart on its side, blue flames racing from its smashed contents in a deadly wave across the floor to lick at the rosewood panelling.

  “Mask!” Kane shouted. “Get in the bedroom!” A fit of coughing silenced him. Smoke thickened between us and I stared for a frozen instant before scrambling up.

  Choking smoke jolted me into a recollection of basic fire safety. I dropped to hands and knees again to scuttle below the deadly cloud.

  I stood only long enough to rip the plastic case from its bracket beside the fire extinguishers before dropping to the floor again. Coughing, I tore the case open, deciphering the cryptic pictogram instructions with agonizing slowness. Another fit of coughing seized me and I hunched lower, searching for cleaner air and fighting dizziness. I dragged the apparatus over my head, yanking my hair out of the neck seal and jerking the cords.

  Blessedly smoke-free air filled my lungs and my coughing eased, my throat burning. I hauled myself to my knees, bracing against the bounce and roll of the floor. Grabbing the fire extinguishers by feel, I turned to face a wall of black smoke.

  Panic gibbered at the edges of my mind. The neck seal squeezed my throat like threatening hands. My frenzied heartbeat resounded in my ears, almost drowning out the engine noise muffled by my hood.

  I wrestled the panic down.

  Move.

  I crawled unsteadily along the pitching deck, dragging the fire extinguishers and following the wall of the plane by leaning a shoulder against it.

  It seemed like miles in the smoky limbo. Was I going the wrong way?

  I couldn’t be. The wall was still on my right. I hadn’t turned around.

  Kane’s extinguishers must be spent by now.

  He needed me.

  Move faster.

  Orange flickered dully through the pall of smoke. A moment later, my hand landed on a bulky object that yielded under my weight.

  A leg…

  Kane!

  I dropped the fire extinguishers to haul desperately on his leg before realizing the flames were too close.

  Where his head would be.

  Sobbing screams tore my throat. I s
lammed my hands to the floor, scrabbling frantically for the fallen fire extinguishers.

  Too slow, too slow…

  At last, my hand struck a smooth cylinder. I fumbled it into position by feel and blasted at the orange glow until the nozzle’s stream dropped off. The flames faltered, then recovered.

  I jerked at his foot again, sweat and tears pouring down my face. He was too heavy…

  His shoe came off in my hand and I pitched backward. The impact slammed reality into my brain.

  The flames were nearly down to his waist.

  I was too late.

  Mindless wails of horror and grief filled my hood. The pitch of the deck increased.

  Final descent.

  The heat was increasing, flames creeping closer.

  Kane would want me to save myself.

  And Spider was counting on me.

  I flung out arms and legs in the smoke-filled darkness and made contact with the wall again. Jamming my shoulder against it for guidance, I hauled myself to hands and knees to crawl uphill toward the bedroom, still hugging Kane’s shoe. Tears choked me, the breathing mask so terrifyingly confining I could barely keep from tearing it off.

  Bedroom.

  Close the door. Basic fire safety.

  My face almost on the carpet, I followed the dim glow of the floor-level emergency lighting to the exit door. Helpless sobs convulsed me while I huddled beside it, clinging to the shoe as if it could somehow save me.

  The plane shook like a rat in a terrier’s jaws.

  A terrifying bang. The floor leaped under me.

  Another impact, then a third, the unmistakeable feel of landing gear slamming onto the runway.

  The engines screamed. The hard braking shuffled me across the floor toward growing heat.

  I flung out my arms and legs, bracing against the deceleration, digging useless fingers at the too-short carpet. The shoe slipped from my grasp.

  All I had left of him.

  Beyond rational thought, I grabbed for it with both hands. Momentum took me.

  A short tumble.

  A hard blow to my side.

  Pushed against the hot wall as if by brutal hands.

  Long seconds later, the force decreased enough for me to roll away. The floor stopped bouncing and the engine noise subsided.

  Wheezing hysterical sobs, I clawed my way back to the unseen seam of the exit hatch.

  Hauled myself up, my frantic hands racing over the wall panel. The lock release had to be here somewhere. I’d seen it earlier…

  Darker. Getting darker.

  Dizziness weakened my knees.

  My hand smashed down on the release lever at last. Shoved it into place.

  My shaking legs barely carried me to the door. I hauled on the big lever with the last of my strength.

  The hatch swung open. Icy air against my hands.

  An inflatable slide unfurled, bouncing with macabre gaiety like a midway ride in hell. My knees gave way and I pitched down the steep slope to slam into heartless tarmac.

  Get up. Get away from the plane.

  My body refused to move.

  Lights flashed and voices shouted.

  A horrible flying sensation and a bumpy ride recalled the too-fresh terror of the plane. I clung to Kane’s shoe, my only anchor in the incomprehensible chaos.

  More lights. More shouting. A hard yank on my hair when the breathing mask was pulled off.

  Someone tried to take the shoe and I fought with what little strength I had left. When it was wrenched from my grasp the wail of a lost soul filled the air, a cry so inhuman I didn’t even realize it was coming from my own lips until a mask clamped over my nose and mouth and muffled it.

  I closed my eyes and went limp, letting the black cancer consume my soul.

  I had killed Kane. As I’d known I would.

  The flames flared again behind my eyelids, the indistinct silhouette of his burning body wavering through the smoke. The monstrous guilt strangled me.

  Time blurred. Faces and voices came and went, delivering barrages of meaningless words and pointless questions.

  Sometimes I spoke empty words back to them; other times not.

  At last the commotion abated and the bright lights went away. Someone brought the shoe back and I clasped it against the place where my heart had been.

  Quiet enfolded me.

  I sank into its barren embrace.

  “Hey, darlin’.”

  Hellhound’s soft rasp roused me, but I kept my eyes shut.

  “Aydan.” Gentle fingertips caressed the hair away from my forehead. “Talk to me, darlin’.”

  How could he bear to look at the woman who had murdered his brother?

  A slight tug between my hands. “Hey, Aydan, what’s with the shoe?”

  My eyes flew open, my hands clenching on the hard leather. Hellhound’s bruised features hovered above me, his black-on-black fatigues stark against the pale emergency-room curtains behind him.

  His rigid face softened enough to attempt a smile. “That’s better, darlin’. Ya had me worried. Doc says you’re okay, just banged up a bit. How ya feelin’?”

  How could he even ask that? I closed my eyes, willing myself to die.

  “Hey.” Another tug.

  I opened my eyes again, clinging fiercely to the shoe.

  “Hey, Aydan.” He leaned down to brush a feather-light kiss onto my forehead. “Talk to me, darlin’. Tell me about the shoe, okay?”

  Unable to meet his eyes, I stared down at the sooty object.

  And saw it clearly for the first time. Slow realization penetrated my brain.

  It was too small.

  And Kane had been wearing boots.

  A tremor seized my hands, spreading through my body like stone-dropped ripples in a pond. I stared up at Hellhound, afraid to ask, afraid to know. My grip tightened on the shoe until my knuckles popped, searing pain through my hand.

  “J-John…?” It came out as a bare whisper. “Is… he…?”

  “He’s fine, darlin’, got a bit of a bang on the head, but he’s fine.” He touched my bone-white knuckles. “Ya wanna tell me about the shoe now?”

  Tears flooded my eyes to cascade down my cheeks.

  Hellhound gathered me close. “It’s okay, darlin’, it’s okay…” He muttered gentle nonsense, stroking my hair while I wept in his arms with Thomas’s shoe crushed between us.

  Chapter 50

  “I said safely generate some smoke, not burn down the whole fucking plane! What the hell was that?” Dermott glowered across his desk.

  I studied my hands, clenched in my lap. “Sorry. I should have put the brandy bottle back in the cart and secured the cart. And I should have realized how flammable those cheese snacks were.”

  “Didn’t you see that video on the internet a couple of years back?” Dermott demanded. “You can use those fucking things for campfire starters, for shit’s sake!”

  I slid lower in the chair. “I know that now.”

  “It wasn’t Aydan’s fault.” Kane’s firm baritone restored some strength to my spine. “She couldn’t have known about the snacks, and I didn’t think to secure the cart, either. And I’m the one who took the brandy bottle out.”

  I shot him a grateful glance, giving silent thanks once more that his concussion hadn’t been as severe as Hellhound’s. The bandage on his forehead gave him a rakish appearance, especially when he grinned like that.

  In fact, everybody except Dermott was grinning, but I thought he was having a hard time holding onto his scowl.

  I was right. A moment later, his lips quirked up, too. “That was some nice cover, though,” he said. “I’ll hardly have to tweak the accident report at all. There wasn’t much left of the bodies for the medical examiner to look at, and you made the flight crew look like heroes when you said they gave you the breathing masks.”

  “Thank God you knew about those,” I said to Kane.

  “I didn’t.” He shot a grin at Germain. “As soon as you yelled ‘f
ire’, Germain connected over the tablet and told me about them.”

  “Thank you!” I sent an admiring gaze Germain’s way before realizing Jack was already doing that. And doing it a lot more attractively than I could.

  Germain smiled. “I’m glad you got to them in time. In an aircraft, the smoke is usually more deadly than the actual fire.”

  “How did you get out, though?” I asked Kane. “I thought the whole plane was on fire. The bedroom door was hot to the touch.”

  “I closed myself into the cockpit and went out the window as soon as we were down.”

  “Thank God you’re both okay,” Spider blurted. “Thank God.”

  I grinned. “I’ll second that motion.”

  Dermott eyed Jack. “You’ve got the weapon locked up in the secured area? Started any testing yet?”

  “Bare preliminaries.” She returned his gaze coolly. “I’ve only had it for twelve hours. But it’s secure, and I’ll do a thorough analysis next week.”

  “Twelve hours?” I shot a frown at Kane. “We were still in the hospital twelve hours ago. How did you…?”

  “I didn’t.” He smiled. “I handed it off to Hellhound and he brought it.”

  The light dawned. “That’s why he was at the hospital so soon after we got there. And wearing fatigues…”

  Dermott nodded. “We inserted him at the airport as soon as we knew when you’d be landing. Even if you hadn’t made it out of the plane, he would have been first on the scene to look for the weapon.”

  “But he shouldn’t have been on active service,” I protested. “It’s only been a week since his head injury. The doctor said at least two weeks…”

  Dermott shrugged. “We only had an hour to get somebody in there. He was the only weapons specialist available on such short notice. You do what you have to do.”

  I digested that for a moment.

  “So, um…” I eyed Kane’s bland expression for a moment before turning back to Dermott. “How high a security clearance does Arnie have, anyway?”

  Dermott returned a deadpan stare that would have done Stemp proud. “That’s strictly need to know, Kelly. And you don’t need to know. You got the network keys and portable generator secured?”