“No feathers reported at the scene of either explosion,” he said. “But the techs couldn’t be sure. They weren’t looking for anything like that. Would you care to explain why you’re asking?”
“I think the motel bomb was delivered using an animatronic flying goose model packed with C4.”
Spider’s face lit up. “Get out! How cool is that? I mean…” He flushed slightly. “I didn’t mean the bombs were cool, I meant the models are cool. I’ve seen some of those mechanical birds in videos. They flap and fly just like the real thing.”
“And they’d be undetectable.” Kane spoke slowly, frowning. “They’d fly too slowly and too low to trigger any radar, and nobody would pay attention to a bird. But their range would be severely limited. They’d have to be deployed very close to their intended target.”
Spider’s fingers had been flying across his keyboard. “Not as close as you might think. Geese can fly thirty to forty miles an hour. If the model is anywhere near accurate, they’d only have to get within ten or twenty miles and let the goose do the rest. The only limitation would be their power source, and with the new battery technology…”
“How lifelike are these things?” Kane asked.
“Not very, up close,” Spider replied. “But at a distance, you probably wouldn’t notice unless you were really looking. And nobody pays attention to birds.”
Stemp’s frown matched Kane’s. “Geese are fairly large. The model could probably carry a couple of pounds of C4. Add a simple electronic detonator and a rudimentary guidance system… It would be an expensive way to deliver a bomb, but it would be virtually undetectable. That amount of explosive has limited tactical potential, but-”
“Geese travel in flocks,” I interrupted.
Everyone turned to stare at me.
“H-how would you stop something like that?” Spider quavered.
Kane and Stemp exchanged a glance. “Air support wouldn’t work,” Kane said. “The targets are too small and too slow-moving. An aircraft would be travelling too fast by comparison. No chance to lock onto the targets.”
Stemp turned a grim smile in my direction. “I understand you enjoy trap-shooting.”
Kane’s eyes widened, and I knew what they were both thinking. “No, I just found out about the geese this morning,” I said quickly. “And I wouldn’t want to use a shotgun on one of those things. You’d have to be too close.”
“I see.” Stemp uttered the two words with no intonation whatsoever, his gaze skewering me.
Kasper bustled in the door, mercifully breaking the eye contact between Stemp and me. “Sorry I’m late,” he grunted. Everyone ignored him.
“I’ll notify the guards at your homes.” Stemp shot a glance between Kane and me. “Inform me when you’re ready to leave the building, and I’ll position sharpshooters.” His penetrating gaze fastened on me again. “Your priorities just changed. Find out as much about these things as you can. Who makes them, how they’re deployed, and most importantly, who deployed them against you.” He turned and strode off down the hall.
“What did I miss?” Kasper demanded.
“Exploding geese,” Spider said slowly. He still looked a little pale.
For the next couple of hours, I jittered inside the network. I already knew most of the information Stemp wanted, but I couldn’t tell him. Yet.
I spent most of my time adding everything I’d discovered to my secret data file and worrying obsessively over whether Kasper would get Irina’s key for me.
And if he did, then what? I had no idea how to infiltrate an enemy base.
When I straightened in the real world holding my throbbing head, Stemp’s flat voice was the first thing that penetrated my misery. “Sandwiches are available in the lunchroom.”
“Uh?” I cracked an eye open.
“You won’t leave the building until end of day,” he elaborated.
“Oh. Right.” I closed my eyes again and tried to relax under Kane’s ministrations.
As I finished my sandwich Kasper gave me a sharp look, and I rose. “Back in a bit,” I said to the room at large, and meandered down the hall toward the ladies’ room.
When I neared the door, Kasper brushed by me on the way to the men’s room and bumped into me. I closed my fingers around the tiny cube he slipped into my hand, and strolled into the washroom.
Back inside the network in the afternoon, I put the finishing touches on my data file, including the details of how I planned to take my network key and use it to infiltrate the Knight’s network. Then I set up another delayed email containing the encryption key and location of my data file, to be sent the following day.
At least if anything went wrong, Stemp would know I hadn’t been a traitor. And maybe, just maybe while he was investigating me, he’d find enough evidence to exonerate Kane. I hoped.
I pulled my quivering data bits together. This would work. I’d get all the information I needed tonight, and then I could tell Stemp everything. Give him the whole package neatly tied up.
Please let it work.
When I stepped out of the virtual portal at the end of the day, my pulse raced with guilty apprehension. I doubled over, groaning, to hide my hands as I fumbled Irina’s key out of my sleeve to replace mine.
Clutching Irina’s key, I thumped my forehead against my knees a few times until Kane’s big warm hands closed around my head. I tried to relax into his massage but my tense muscles refused to respond, and I groaned again in earnest.
“Aydan, are you okay?” Spider’s concerned face hovered in front of my squinted eyes.
“Fine.”
“You’re shaking. Do you need another sandwich?” Kane asked.
“No… Um, actually, yeah, I think I do,” I agreed. “Good idea.” I straightened slowly and held out a trembling hand. “Here’s the key. I’ll go and grab another sandwich before we leave.”
I resisted the urge to hold my breath when his hand closed around the key’s tiny box. There was no way he could know I’d switched them. I was the only person who could use my key. Nobody would know he held a useless copy instead of the irreplaceable mote of technology now hidden in my sleeve.
Calm. Stay calm. I took a slow, deep breath and headed for the lunchroom to collect my sandwich.
Back in the bunker under Kane’s office, I hadn’t realized I was fidgeting until Kane looked up from the computer. “Are you all right?” he asked.
“Fine.” At his disbelieving look, I elaborated on the lie. “Just claustrophobic. I’m having a hard time tonight.”
His face softened. “This must be tough for you.”
He pushed the keyboard away and stood, stretching. I averted my eyes and ignored the breathlessness that accompanied the memory of the last time he’d done that.
“Do you want to play cards?” he asked sympathetically.
I seized on the diversion with gratitude. “Thanks, that would really help.”
While he headed to the lunchroom for the cards, I consulted my watch. I’d hidden the network key inside it, and it took all my willpower to refrain from peeking at it every few seconds for reassurance.
I had a hard time concentrating on Rummy despite its simple rules. After I’d lost a couple of games, I laid the cards down with a sigh and consulted my watch one more time before pushing back my chair to stand and stretch.
My rigid muscles responded unwillingly, and I faked relaxation as best I could. I kept my voice casual. “I have to go out for a little while. Don’t wait up.”
Kane’s gaze sharpened, and he rose, too. “I knew there was more to it than claustrophobia. Where are you going? When will you be back…” He trailed off, frowning at my expression. He took a deep breath. “Forget I asked. How can I help?”
I made my voice confident. “Same as before. Keep Stemp from butting in, and watch my tracker. More than two hours without moving, and I’m in trouble.”
His jaw clenched. “Can you tell me at least a little more?”
“No. Sorry.
” I headed for the bunkroom before I could change my mind.
I had just picked up my jacket when Kane’s broad shoulders blotted out the light from the hallway. He advanced slowly, his gaze searching my face.
“The cameras are disabled in here,” he murmured, his velvet baritone tickling my ears and sending a rush of heat to more southerly areas.
“Uh…” I replied. I followed my brilliant repartee up with an audible swallow and licked suddenly-dry lips.
His gaze locked onto my lips. “You shouldn’t leave without a kiss for luck.”
“Uh…” I cleared the hoarseness out of my throat and sidled for the door. “That’s probably not a good idea…”
“I’m sure you’re right.” He stepped closer.
I drew in a shaky breath. “You know, since anybody could walk in. That would be bad.”
“That’s very true.”
He was standing so close I could feel the heat radiating from him. Licking at my body like a hot tongue…
A couple of shallow breaths did nothing to ease my lightheadedness. His eyes were dark in the half-light, focused on me with hungry intent. A whiff of gun oil and leather weakened both my knees and my resolve.
“Ohmigod…”
I hadn’t realized I’d spoken aloud until he pulled me against him, his lips burning on mine, his hand knotting roughly in the hair at the nape of my neck. The heat of his muscular body whipped me into a firestorm of lust, igniting every nerve ending. His demanding mouth pressed my lips open to pillage and take. No request for permission, no gentle persuasion, only pure alpha-male dominance.
The challenge was irresistible.
I kissed him back hard, shoving my weight against him to pin him to the wall so I could do a little pillaging of my own.
Kane growled and in an instant our positions were reversed, the wall hard against my back, his body hard against my front. A few moments later, he broke the kiss to give me a predatory grin.
“I’ll look forward to completing our unfinished business later,” he rumbled before stepping back to leave me braced panting against the wall. His thumb brushed lightly across my tingling lower lip. “Good luck with your mission.”
Somehow I managed to stumble out of the bunker, hoping I wasn’t being monitored by any infrared cameras that would capture the telltale white-hot areas of my body. The night air was mercifully frosty, and after a few moments of deep breathing on the front step I regained enough intellectual capacity to scan the sky and the area around my truck for anything that looked like a goose.
Sufficiently reassured, I climbed in, appreciating the cold truck seat under my butt for perhaps the first time ever.
At my farm, I passed the guards’ inspection and pulled into my garage. After some awkward manoeuvring behind closed doors, I managed to get my dirt bike up the ramp and into my truck. A few moments in the house gave me time to stuff my helmet and leathers into a large duffel bag, and I strode back to the garage looking as nonchalant as any woman can with icy sweat trickling down her spine.
Half an hour later, I pulled the truck onto a deserted crossing a mile south of the location Sam had described.
Struggling into my biking leathers, I discovered that several weeks of missed workouts had left the leather pants uncomfortably tight. I blew out a sigh and made a mental note to get back to my usual workout schedule as soon as possible. If I survived.
Shit, maybe I should’ve eaten some ice cream before I left. Just in case I didn’t make it.
I gave my head a vigorous shake, trying to dislodge the panicky thoughts floating around inside it. Focus, dammit.
I tucked the trank gun into my waist holster after anxiously checking the ammo loads. Only five darts left. I should’ve asked Stemp for more. Too late now.
My Glock still snuggled in my ankle holster, its weight like a reassuring hug. From hard-learned habit, I extracted it and ejected the magazine to check it over. Fully loaded. Spare magazine in my pocket. I pushed the magazine back into place and chambered up a round before returning it to its holster.
I tucked my bird-watching binoculars into the front of my jacket and zipped it up over them, then ran trembling fingertips over my watch. Still in one piece, concealing the tiny bit of technology that could save me. Or kill me.
I sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. What had I missed?
Everything else was in my waist pouch, and I spent a moment in fervent hope that Kane was right and Stemp wouldn’t use the tracker to interfere with my mission.
When I caught myself re-checking my mental list for the third time, I huffed out a sigh and got out of the truck to wobble around to the tailgate on shaking legs.
The clatter of my ramp shattered the dark silence of the country. I wheeled my dirt bike down and pushed the ramp back into the box of the truck, wincing at the noise.
When I started the motorcycle, its engine sounded louder than the roar of the Hercules, and I almost chickened out right then and there. Trembling astride the bike, I gave myself a stern talking-to.
The bike wasn’t that loud. Honest. It was actually very quiet for a dirt bike. And its knobby tires and high-slung suspension would carry me easily over the lumpy, frosty fields for a quick getaway. I needed the bike. This was the best solution.
My chest ached with the pounding of my heart and the tension of my nervous shivering, and I attempted a few yoga breaths without success.
Get on with it.
I yanked on my helmet and kicked the bike into gear.
Chapter 48
I idled slowly over uneven clods of half-frozen dirt, heading for the windbreak that showed as a dark smudge against the mottled white of half-melted snow. Letting the dirt bike’s engine lug in third gear, I hoped its muted grumble would be carried away from the farm by the brisk headwind that chilled my knuckles through my gloves.
The bike bucked and kicked sideways as the front tire glanced off a particularly large unseen lump and I jerked it back under control, swearing quietly. I fought the urge to stop and remove the cover I’d rigged over the headlight. The duct-taped cardboard would make for quick removal if I had to make a run for it, but I couldn’t afford to attract attention as I approached.
At last the trees loomed up like black skeletons in the moonlight, and I dismounted and cut the engine to walk the bike the last few yards. Taking a sight line against the lights of the building site, I leaned the motorcycle against a tree and walked away with a short prayer that I’d be able to find it in a hurry if necessary.
The bark of a dog from the vicinity of the buildings made me huddle close to a tree, wrapping an arm around its trunk to prevent my suddenly weak knees from giving way.
Shit, shit, shit! Why hadn’t I thought about dogs?
I succumbed to gravity and crouched beside the tree, sucking in a few deep breaths in an attempt to slow my thundering heart.
Okay, Plan B. I had a trank gun. That bark had sounded like a pretty big dog. Surely the trank would knock out a big dog without harming it permanently. My shaking knees tried to drop me on my ass, but I used the tree to pull myself upright instead.
Come on, Jane Bond, do your stuff.
I pulled out the binoculars and focused on the building site. Peering into the darkness, I realized how under-prepared I really was. Night-vision binoculars would’ve been nice. Hell, a Special Forces backup would’ve been nice.
I shook off my burgeoning sense of inadequacy and concentrated on what I was seeing.
Sam hadn’t been completely accurate when he’d called it a barn. It was actually a long low steel-clad building, more like an industrial warehouse than a barn. Nearest to me, the end of the building had a truck-sized overhead door with a man-door beside it. The side was a long expanse of unbroken steel cladding with a cluster of windows near the front.
I pressed a little closer to my tree when a man with a German Shepherd dog rounded the corner of the building and patrolled down the side. Thank heaven I was downwind, at least for the mome
nt.
From where I stood, I could see three cars and a half-ton parked in front of the building. A small house stood a few hundred yards away, its windows dark. I trained my binoculars on the shadowy barn windows, but I couldn’t make out any details inside.
The guard and dog disappeared around the corner of the building, and I forced my reluctant feet into action. After creeping in a careful half-circle to scope out as much of the building as possible while staying downwind of the dog, I decided on a plan at last. The guard seemed to be making predictable laps around the building. As soon as he went around the corner, I’d zip over and try the door at the rear of the building.
I swallowed a hard lump of fear. There was no window in the door. I had no way of knowing what was on the other side. I could be stepping right into a group of people.
But going around to the front door would be insanity. The front of the building was brightly lit, and if it was like most industrial buildings, the windows at the front probably meant offices and occupied areas. The back should just be a loading bay.
I hoped.
Go.
I propelled my shaking legs into a dash for the back of the building, ignoring the yammering of the craven internal voice that assured me I’d never be able to get in, I’d get caught for sure, and I had very little time left to live.
It was only a hundred yards or so, but by the time I grabbed the door handle I was gasping as if I’d run a marathon. My pulse hammered a tattoo behind my eyes. I tried to open the latch quietly, but it didn’t budge.
Shooting a panicked glance at the corner where the guard would reappear, I clamped down on the handle hard enough to shoot pain through my hand.
Nothing.
Goddammit, of course they’d keep the fucking door locked. They were spies, for shit’s sake. I stood frozen in panicked indecision.
If I was Kane, I’d have my handy-dandy lockpicks in my back pocket, and I’d know how to use them. If I was any kind of movie-type spy at all, I’d have a laser pen capable of cutting through six-inch steel in seconds. Or I’d jiggle a credit card in the crack of the door and it would magically open. Or…
How Spy I Am Page 34