Plan to Fail

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Plan to Fail Page 7

by Perry Kirkpatrick


  They were silent a moment.

  She looked up at him and cocked her head. “Brent, is that your real name? Or do I only know an undercover version of you?”

  The corners of Brent’s eyes crinkled as he smiled at her. “I wondered when you’d ask that. My name really is Brent Peterson. And, no, ICS didn’t fake my death and give me a new identity or anything. You know the real me.”

  “Not very well,” she said.

  “True,” he nodded. “We’ve been a little busy since meeting, wouldn’t you say?”

  Emily laughed wryly. “Just slightly.”

  Almost automatically, she moved to clean up the coffee spill on the floor. Brent told her she didn’t have to, but the urge to return her workplace to order was too strong.

  “It’s even harder not to become invested for people like us,” Brent said after a while.

  “What do you mean? People like us?” Emily leaned against the mop handle.

  “Christians. We’re supposed to be learning to love God and love people—that’s how Jesus boiled it down. Closing ourselves off to genuine connections with everyone around us—it’s counter to our training.”

  Of course he knows I’m a Christian. It’s in my file, no doubt. I should have guessed he is too. He’s always seemed different than I thought a spy would be.

  “I like how you call it ‘training,’” she said with a small smile.

  He shrugged and grinned. “It’s what makes sense to me.”

  The shop was looking normal by the time Santa entered with another man. “You’re still here?” Mr. Best asked Brent.

  “She wanted to tidy up,” Brent said, tipping his head toward Emily.

  His boss nodded. “It looks good in here. You’d never know we just arrested a traitor. I expect you two back at North Pole for a debriefing about 30 minutes from now. We have to do this quick walk-through,” he gestured vaguely to the other man.

  Emily felt like she’d seen Santa’s friend somewhere before. Where could she have met the middle-aged Hispanic man in a high-end navy blue suit?

  Perhaps I saw him at the gala? Perhaps he’s been a customer here before?

  She couldn’t place it, so she followed Brent out the door and into the shimmering afternoon heat.

  “Need a lift?” she asked Brent, shading her eyes with one hand as she looked up at him.

  “I can’t wait to squeeze into that itty-bitty excuse-for-a-car again,” he said with a wry grin.

  “Excellent!” She leaned closer and whispered under the noise of the traffic rumbling by, “Then you can explain to me how sending a Russian spy on her way with top-secret plans was a win.”

  Chapter 16

  “SERIOUSLY, DID WE FAIL or not?” Emily asked, pulling out of her parking space, and then letting the smart car coast down the slopes of the parking garage.

  Brent chuckled, and she glanced over at him. He was stuffed into the passenger seat, looking uncomfortable. “We succeeded. You had good instincts, sending us that picture of Kubarev. Knowing that she was the Gremlin’s contact and that the exchange was today was a crucial bit of intel. Then you suggested Sunrise as the meeting place—giving us control over the situation. Really, really good thinking. I think Santa was seriously impressed.”

  Emily felt herself blushing.

  “Santa contacted Connor Gomez, owner of Sunrise Coffee, and told him what was going on. They are old war buddies, and Mr. Gomez likes to help out when he can.”

  “Like giving a spy with no prior barista experience a job at one of his locations?” Emily teased.

  “Yeah, just like that,” Brent said. She could hear the sheepish grin in his voice without even looking at him.

  “Mr. Gomez called Terry and told her to shut the place down because he was going to do a private walk-through with an old friend this afternoon. That’s why they showed up together just as we were leaving: to do the walk-through. He is very conscientious and didn’t want to lie. A good guy. I really respect him.”

  “Wait—the guy in the suit with Santa—that was my boss? That was Connor Gomez?” Emily would have smacked her forehead if she hadn’t needed both hands on the wheel. This time of day, traffic was getting thicker by the minute, and it was good to be prepared for anything.

  “Yep, that was him. Anyway, after Terry left, we and the other agencies staged the place to look like it was open and got the FBI—referred to as B-team—in place in the alley. We had to turn away a couple real customers before you guys arrived.”

  Emily shook her head in amazement at all they’d accomplished with the little bit of advanced notice she’d given them. “Who else was there? You said the FBI was in the alley with a van, but I don’t think everyone else was ICS.”

  “I can neither confirm nor deny that DOD, DHS, and CIA were also either present or watching from a distance.”

  Emily grinned. “You just ‘neither confirmed nor denied’, Brent. Isn’t that movie stuff?”

  “I think you’re rubbing off on me.” He sounded amused. “We do actually say that, but not as often as in the movies.”

  “So you still haven’t explained the part about why letting Nadia get away with those plans was a good thing.”

  “Right. So I slipped you that little device inside your napkin. You slipped that into the Gremlin’s jacket pocket—sorry about making you have to play awkward again.”

  She shrugged. “That was Amelia-the-klutz; not me.”

  “Our hacker, Sudo, who we stashed in the back room, used that device to remotely access the thumb drive the Gremlin was carrying. He scrubbed it of the real plans and then uploaded our own plans.”

  “Wait, you switched the files on the drive?”

  “Yes, for ones that won’t work. They look like they should, but they’re off by just enough that they’ll never actually be functional or give away how the real deal works.”

  “So the new stealth tech is safe? The Russians won’t actually know how it works?”

  “Completely. And—” Brent grinned “—what we sent them will keep them pretty busy. They’ll, of course, try to build it themselves and throw time and resources away on a design that is doomed to fail.”

  “Crippling the enemy with mischief, are we?” Emily laughed.

  “It sounds silly, but distraction and misdirection are sometimes just as effective as a classic defeat.”

  Emily nodded. “I could see that."

  “Of course the tracking program our hacker also uploaded to the thumb drive will provide us with some interesting location data, no doubt.”

  “Oh, wow! You guys really thought of everything!” Emily grinned, turning through the winding streets of Brent’s neighborhood.

  “We couldn’t have done it without you, Emily. As a matter of fact, I think you’ve earned a new codename.”

  “Really?”

  Brent punched a button on his phone, opening the garage door. Emily pulled in and parked. “Yeah, you don’t seem to like ‘Sweetheart’ too much.”

  “It’s terribly awkward, Brent.”

  “Oh, terribly.”

  “And a little—I don’t know—1940s?”

  “I suppose I should have gone with Bae.”

  “Ew!” Emily grimaced and shook her head vigorously. “So what is my new codename?”

  He shut one eye and regarded her carefully for a moment. “I’m thinking ARK.”

  “Ark? As in, Noah’s Ark?”

  “No, as in: Amelia Rosenberg Klutz.”

  Emily rolled her eyes. “And here I was hoping it was something cool like Nighthawk.”

  “Don’t worry, it’s not like you’ll actually be needing it. No more dangerous undercover work for you, Emily. It’s just going to be saving for college and teaching this poor guy how to make non-lethal coffee.”

  She laughed, covering her disappointment. “Well, that’s going to be a full-time job.”

  Epilogue

  “SO YOU FINALLY GOT a replacement check? That’s great!” Brent said as the heavy
back door of Sunrise Coffee closed behind them. He removed the black-rimmed glasses he’d taken to wearing to work the last couple days.

  It was a hot and humid Thursday, and Emily instinctively checked the sky for thunderheads. The tall downtown buildings only showed slivers of a rich, blue sky. Once she was on the freeway, she’d be able to see more of the valley. She wouldn’t be surprised to see anvil-shaped thunderstorms building on the horizon.

  “Yes, I did. Luckily, the family I pet-sit for was really understanding when I showed them the old check. I’m headed to the bank to deposit it and go grocery shopping right away.”

  Brent gave her a high-five.

  “Hey, listen,” he said, “that’s not the only good news of the day. I have something to show you. C’mon!” He began jogging toward the parking garage despite the heat.

  Brent didn’t ask which level Emily had parked on. She had a feeling he already knew. As usual, he glanced both ways before beckoning her off the elevator. Leading her straight to the rented smart car, he stood back and said, “What do you think?”

  Emily cocked her head, wondering what was different about the tiny car.

  I’m not getting it.

  She walked slowly around it, searching for what she was missing.

  “No, Emily!” Brent laughed. “Sorry—that was confusing.” She looked up at him and realized he was leaning, arms folded, against the side of a shiny green Subaru parked in the space to the left of the smart car.

  “Do you mean—?” Her eyes went wide.

  “It’s a few years old, but it’s in great shape. Santa had a mechanic check it over thoroughly. It should last you a good long while.”

  Emily couldn’t contain a giggle. “This is so exciting! I would have kept driving Old Blue until the wheels fell off! I never dreamed I’d have this new of a car!”

  “You’re welcome for wrecking your old one, then?” Brent grinned sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck.

  She shook her head, laughing at him, and walked around the Subaru.

  “Trade me keys and take it, Emily.”

  She handed him the key to the smart car. “At least this is the last time you’ll have to squeeze into such a tiny vehicle.”

  “It will be fine. It’s a short drive to the rental lot.”

  Emily unlocked her new car and lowered herself carefully into the driver’s seat. Even though the vehicle was used, it had obviously been nicely detailed and somehow managed to smell new.

  Brent closed her door and bent down to grin at her through the window. Mid-smile, though, he froze and his expression faded to something grim. His eyes swiveled to the side.

  Emily turned and looked behind the car, wondering what he was looking at.

  Or listening for?

  After a moment, she heard it: the squeal of tires as an approaching car took the turns of the parking garage far too fast. She stared at the ramp as the sound got louder.

  “How did they find me?” Brent exclaimed. She heard a light scrape on the car roof just above her head.

  Who’s chasing him this time?

  When she turned back to her window, Brent was no longer there. He had rounded the hood of her Subaru and made a dive for the smart car. Folding himself into the driver’s side with speed that looked painful, Brent started the tiny car and threw it into reverse.

  Motioning at Emily to get down, he backed out just as a dark car rounded the last corner and came into sight.

  Emily ducked low, lying sideways with her head in the passenger’s seat until the pursuing vehicle passed by. She sat up just in time to see the dark car follow Brent along the exit route.

  “A car chase in a smart car, Brent?” she said aloud. “Nobody can accuse you of ‘movie stuff’, that’s for sure. I’ve never seen that done in a movie.”

  She took a deep breath, and stared at the key in her hand. She wished there was a way she could help Brent out of whatever trouble he was in now.

  But he was the trained spy.

  She was just a barista.

  She narrowed her eyes. That scratching sound—had he left something on the roof of her car? Looking all around, the parking garage, she decided the coast was clear and opened her door. Getting out, she stood on her toes and looked across the top of the Subaru.

  Nothing.

  So odd.

  She ran her hand over the rack that she assumed was supposed to hold skis and snowboards. Her fingers found a small piece of black plastic protruding from one of the rack’s cutouts. Pinching it carefully, she drew it out.

  “A microSD card, Brent? Is that why they’re after you?”

  She flipped it over in her palm and stared at it thoughtfully. After a moment, she tucked it into the front pocket of her jeans. She had a feeling he’d be back for it later.

  Acknowledgements

  A LOT OF PEOPLE HELPED make this book possible...

  My siblings, who read and cheered.

  Katja, who read and cheered and then did it all over again.

  Tyler, who codenamed the tech guy, Sudo. Thanks for being my favorite real-life tech guy, dear. Thanks for making my computer quit freezing.

  My amazing newsletter subscribers, who chose both the Gremlin’s codename and the Phoenix Art Museum as the place for Mrs. Malachi, Nadia and Emily to meet up. You folks are a pretty cool bunch, and I love including you in my process!

  My kiddos, who were very patient while mommy worked on her book.

  Brent and Emily, who are just so cool.

  Thank you for reading!

  IF YOU ENJOYED THIS book, be sure to check out the rest of the series! Emily's and Brent's missions continue in...

  1. Red Rover, Red Rover - May 6, 2019

  2. Plan to Fail - May 13, 2019

  3. Bad Things, Small Packages - May 27, 2019

  4. Tutor, Nanny, Spit-up, Spy - June 17, 2019

  5. A-Spying We Will Go - July 8, 2019

  6. Once Upon a Dime - July 29, 2019

  You might also enjoy reading my Kitten Files cozy mystery series: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07H4VRPYY

  Subscribe to Perry's newsletter to be the first to hear about new releases and sales! Sign up here.

  About the Author

  PERRY ELISABETH KIRKPATRICK lives in an undisclosed location outside of Phoenix where she and her husband chase their four little boys and an escape-artist dog. They don’t chase their cats, however, because cats hate that. She is the author of “The Kitten Files” mysteries, “The Accidental Cases of Emily Abbott” spy series, and multiple short stories.

  In addition to her writing, Perry enjoys graphic design, playing a number of musical instruments, and watching movies that make her laugh.

  Connect with her at www.perrykirkpatrick.com

 

 

 


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