“Ignore the bastard,” Dot said. “He’s lying. Probably just wants to get you close so he can stick a shiv in you.”
Burke hesitated. He looked at Park, who was still steering her way through the reef. Once she got to open water, it wouldn’t be long before she reached the sub. Time was running out...and yet…
He started running toward the fallen body.
“What the Sam Hill are you doing?” Dot yelled after him. “Leave him!”
Burke ignored her and kept running. Reaching David, he knelt on the sand. He felt like strangling the man, but it was obvious David didn’t have much longer.
“Don’t kill Park,” David said, red froth forming around his mouth as he spoke. “She needs...to escape for...the plan to work.”
“What are you talking about? What plan?”
“The QNM...it’s rigged.”
“Rigged? What exactly does that mean?”
“Allcock...his rhetoric was...an act. He...wanted the North Koreans...to steal the QNM.”
“Right, because he was on their side.”
David shook his head. “No...all an act. Do you...know what the codename for the...QNM was?”
Burke shook his head.
“Boomerang. The QNM is rigged to...reverse course...and destroy the...location from which it was...launched.”
Even as he knelt beneath the Australian sun, Burke felt frozen. The reality of what David was telling him was right in front of him, and yet he felt himself grappling with it. Allcock, with David’s help apparently, had developed a method of removing the North Korean threat. A method that could very well plunge the world into a war featuring the widespread use of nuclear weapons.
Dot’s piercing yell cut through the swirling thoughts in Burke’s head.
“I’ve got a bead on the bitch! I’m going to take her out!”
Burke half-turned. “No! Wait!”
“Wait? What the hell, Burke? With every second, this shot gets a little more dicey!”
“I know! I just—” Burke turned back to David. “You’re sure about this, David? You aren’t feeding me a line?”
David’s lips twitched upward in a wan smile. “Do I look like a...guy who would spend his final minutes...feeding you a line?”
“You sounded convincing enough in the laboratory. And you left me to die in Allcock’s closet.”
“I had to make sure you...believed me a traitor. Otherwise, I was afraid you’d...try to stop my mission. I gave Charlie...a clue to your location so she’d...be able to reach you in time.”
“She mentioned it,” Burke conceded. “Still you played a dangerous game.”
“But it...worked. Don’t let Dot...kill Park. This is the...best chance...to take out Kim’s government.”
Again, Burke heard Dot’s voice. “I’m going to take the shot!”
He held up a hand to forestall the action and then looked seaward. Park had reached the submarine and was clambering upward, assisted by two sailors. He could believe David and let the agent go. Assuming all went according to Allcock’s plan, any launched nuclear missile containing the QNM would reverse course and destroy its owners. Perhaps not a bad thing for the world, in this case. Yet Burke knew it would not be that simple. Any nuclear attack on the Korean Peninsula would be interpreted as an act of war, whether the missile originated from the United States or was the victim of Western espionage. Such an event would likely result in a chain reaction. Did he, one lone agent, have the right to make that decision? As a rule, SpyCo’s activities were focused on maintaining the status quo, on completing the immediate assignment, not influencing geopolitical trends—and certainly did not include starting world wars.
Burke looked again toward the sub. Park was aboard now and hurrying toward the hatch. Making a sudden decision, Burke dropped flat to clear Dot’s line of sight.
“Dot! Shoot! Take her out! Now!”
The rifle cracked and Burke watched as Park stumbled and fell sideways. The North Korean sailors tried to grab her, but it was too late. The agent’s body toppled from the submarine and splashed into the water. The sailors, seeing it was a lost cause and knowing their time was limited, let her sink beneath the waves.
15
Dot watched as the military medic wound a bandage around Charlie’s head. “Back in my heyday, you weren’t considered an agent until you got shot in the head at least twice.”
Laughing, Charlie pushed to her feet. “I’m fine, really. It’s a scratch.”
“Don’t let Dot shame you for being sensible,” Burke said. “She’s a horrible, embittered old woman.”
“Who’s about to give you a new set of assholes.”
“A new set?”
“I’m old; my insults don’t have to make sense.”
Burke sighed and shook his head, as if humoring a demented relative. “I’ll give you a pass this time, but only because I’m still stoked after watching a destroyer take out a submarine while two F-18s streaked overhead. I think I can say, without reservation, that was the goddamn coolest thing I ever hope to see.”
“It might not have mattered without all of you,” said a uniformed officer, who had been standing to one side while the medic worked on Charlie. “We detected the North Korean sub in our waters, but had you not disrupted the rendezvous, they likely would have slipped away before we responded.”
“Oh, it was nothing,” Burke said airily.
Dot scoffed. “Don’t listen to him. He’ll be thumping his chest about this for years.”
“I’m afraid that won’t be possible,” the officer said. “None of you can say anything about this. Ever. That’s why we brought you to the military base for medical treatment, instead of the closest hospital. Secrecy is of the utmost importance. Any chest thumping will have to be done in private.”
“And the QNM?”
“Still in the corpse’s pocket, neatly sealed in a waterproof envelope. Our divers brought it up intact. It will be studied and evaluated by our team and will, of course, be protected by the highest level of classification possible.”
“So this is the last we’ll hear of it?”
“We can only hope so. While Dr. Allcock’s motives may have been sincere, one person cannot be allowed to make decisions of this magnitude. The world doesn’t need nuclear war, no matter where the warheads go off.”
“But we’re free to go?”
“Yes. You’re all agents in good standing with SpyCo, so you clearly know the meaning of discretion.”
Burke saw Charlie open her mouth to say something and quickly elbowed her in the ribs.
“Thank you, sir,” he said. “You can count on us.”
Once they were clear of the base’s perimeter fence, Charlie finally leaned forward so her head invaded the front seat of Dot’s Imperial destroyer on wheels.
“Should I count that as the second lie. Mr. Burke? You know as well as I do that I’m no SpyCo agent.”
“Technically, that’s true, so technically, yes. I lied. But, Dot, what do you think?”
“What does she think about what?”
Dot turned and looked at Charlie, then said to Burke, “Well, she’s not quite as good looking as me, but damned if she doesn’t have it.”
“What in bloody hell are you two talking about? I’m not fluent in spy lingo. Can someone tell me what it is?”
“That’s it right there,” Dot said. “You’ve got an agent’s heart pumping behind those nice firm boobs. Ever think of getting out of the security guard gig and into a real line of work?”
“Are you talking about what you do?”
“Well, not what I do. I’m a handler. It’s my job to keep pukes like Burke out of the shit when they’re on assignment. Pukes like you too, if you think you could handle it.”
“Dot’s right, Charlie. You’ve got a solid, if slightly damaged, head on your shoulders and you’ve got ice water in your veins. I’ve got a pretty good eye for this sort of thing, and I think you could soar at SpyCo.”
Ch
arlie sat back. This was not the sort of day she’d expected to have when she’d gotten up in the morning. But she couldn’t deny that when the world was on the verge, literally, of exploding around her, it had made her feel like nothing ever had before. And although she obviously didn’t really know what she was doing, she’d gotten through it almost unscathed. She touched the bandage on her head. It wasn’t so bad. Maybe as she got better at it, she’d learn to duck sooner.
“So how does one go about becoming an international spy? Is there an application I need to fill out?”
That earned her a hearty round of laughter from the front seat.
“No paperwork, girly, though you will be vetted more thoroughly than a secret service agent on the Commander-in-Chief’s detail.” Dot was grinning, though Charlie couldn’t see it. Burke could, and though he knew she’d never admit it, he could tell the crotchety old handler already liked Charlie.
“I’d make a phone call on your behalf, to get the ball rolling. They’ll do some background checking on their end before you hear anything more, and the first contact will be with me, to let you know what to do next.”
Charlie drew in a deep breath and let it out in a loud puff.
“It’s a heady decision, I know,” Burke said. “When I got tapped to join, my first thought was that it was some kind of prank, since the agent who recruited me had been a friend of my father’s and one of the biggest smartasses I’d ever known.”
“Was your father a spy too?”
“Nope. Shoe salesman.”
“Is he still living?”
“Yup.”
“Well, what does he think about it?”
“Hell, he thinks I went into business with his buddy selling American tires to Japanese car manufacturers.”
“It’ll mean a life of lying to your family and friends,” Dot said. “Of never knowing who you can trust, and of more guns pointed at you than I’ve had dicks pointed at me.”
“That’s a lot of guns” Burke laughed.
“I need a drink,” Charlie said.
Dot cackled. “Damn, Burke. She’s already better than you. Why didn’t you think of that?”
They drove back to Dot’s place in relative quiet, the conversation moving to other topics as Charlie’s mind swirled.
Once in the house, Dot slammed the door and moved faster than Burke had ever seen her go. Destination: liquor cabinet. She pulled out her bottle of Pappy van Winkle and poured three stiff ones. “Here’s to Burke not fucking up the entire world,” she said.
“I’ll drink to that,” Burke said as he took a long pull from the tumbler.
After their glasses were drained, Dot said, “So what do you think, Charlie? Ready to prove to this mosquito-dicked loser that women rule the world?”
“I think… I think I need another drink.”
“Damn, girly. I don’t know about Nancy here, but I think I’m falling in love with you!” Dot poured another round.
“Don’t let her pressure you,” Burke said. “If you need a little time to think, I understand.”
Charlie powered back her drink. Then she looked up, her eyes shining. “Time? Who needs time? Make the damn call.”
“Hot damn!” Dot shouted, breaking into a comical jig.
Burke smiled. “Excuse me,” he said, pulling out his phone and going into another room. He closed the door and hit his #2 speed dial button. A moment later, he heard a breathy voice in his ear.
“What are you wearing?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
Lyndsey Archer’s voice became a little less sexy. “Try me.”
“I’m wearing a pair of Brooks Brother’s trousers over the top of a laboratory cleansuit. And boat shoes.”
All the sexiness was gone now. “I don’t even want to know.”
“Good, because I can’t tell you anyway. Orders of the Australian military.”
“Since when do we answer to them?”
“Since Moore and the PM became phone buddies.”
“I don’t even want to know.”
“Again, good. Listen, I called you for a reason.”
“Of course you did,” she said, breathy once more.
“Not that.”
“Damn. What then?”
“Two-two-seven.”
“A recruit? Who, some brawny Aussie rugby star?”
“Cool your jets, Archer. A she, not a he.”
After a beat of silence, Lyndsey said, “Jets officially cooled. I suppose she’s drop-dead gorgeous.”
“She’s got the stuff, Lyndsey. She could become a major player.”
“And I’m supposed to believe that you didn’t give her a horizontal interview?”
“No,” Burke said, a little more angrily than he’d meant to.
“Why not? Is she missing her head or something?”
“No. There’s nothing wrong with her. She’s just not…”
“Not what? Eighteen?”
“Goddammit, Lyndsey, she’s not you!”
The line was silent for so long Burke began to think the call had been dropped.
“Well, I didn’t see that coming,” Lyndsey said at last.
“And that’s my fault. I’ve kept you in the dark and lied to myself because I was too afraid to admit it.”
“Admit what?”
Burke took a deep breath. “That…that I love you.”
Another long silence reigned.
“Lyndsey?” Burke’s heart thudded as he awaited her response.
“Sorry,” she said at last. “I didn’t see that coming either.”
“You don’t have to respond now,” Burke hurried to say. “We can talk when I get back to New York. For now, get the ball rolling on Charlie.”
“Charlie? I thought you said it was a chick.”
“Charlie as in Charlotte. Charlotte Perkins.”
“I’ll call Speck,” she said, referring to the chief SpyCo researcher, fact-finder, and background checker, Goren Specjemen.
“Good.”
“And Burke?”
“What, babe?”
“If you’re fucking with me, I will kill you. Horribly.”
“I’d expect nothing less. Meet me at the airport?”
“Text me your flight info.”
“Bye, Lynds.”
“Bye.”
Burke disconnected, realizing that for the first time in their relationship, she hadn’t given him shit for calling her by her childhood nickname, a name she generally only allowed Perry Hall to use. He smiled so hard that when he walked back into the other room, Dot burst into laughter.
“You look like a baby who’s filling his diaper!”
“Fuck you, old woman. Charlie, the ball is officially rolling.”
Charlie didn’t answer. She was stretched out on Dot’s antique sofa, snoring loudly.
“She’s had a hard day,” the old handler said in a voice sweeter than Burke thought capable of coming from her mouth. Burke looked at the bottle of Pappy and saw it was considerably emptier than when he’d left the room.
“She has,” he said. “She really has.”
Burke looked at Dot, then at the sleeping form of Charlie, then conjured an image of Lyndsey in his mind. He felt a mixture of accomplishment, anticipation, and maybe a little fear, which—for a guy who thought he’d already seen everything frightening that there was in the world—was an odd sensation indeed.
ASSIGNMENT: ALASKA
A SPYCO NOVELLA #5
1
James Burke rolled over in bed and hid his face in the pillow. The light streaming through the open blinds seemed unnaturally bright for seven a.m., his usual rising time.
“Turn it off,” he moaned. “I hate it.”
There was a rustling sound and then something—someone—dropped on top of him. He rolled over again, his arms encircling his assailant. He came up on top and looked down into the radiant face of Lyndsey Archer.
“You should never attack a sleeping spy,”
he said. “We’re known for our killer instincts, you know.”
Lyndsey scoffed. “I could have taken you a thousand times over. You were snoring so loud, I almost smothered you with a pillow.”
“Nonsense. I’m up at my usual time, aren’t I?”
“You tell me,” Lyndsey said. “Look at your phone.”
Burke reached over and picked up his phone from the nightstand. The screen lit up and he glanced at the time. “This can’t be right. Nine o’clock?”
Lyndsey reached up and ran her hand tenderly down the side of Burke’s face and along his jaw line. “You needed it. That Sydney mission was a bitch, from what I hear.”
“It was pretty intense.”
Lyndsey rubbed his face again. “So is this stubble on your face.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll hack it off before we hit the beach.”
Lyndsey leaned up and whispered into his ear, “I don’t mind. It feels kind of nice during sex.”
As if to test this claim, Burke bent and touched his lips to Lyndsey’s. He relaxed his body into hers and she responded instantly, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling even closer. A quick shift in positions and they were truly together.
Burke pressed his face into Lyndsey’s neck as she ran her fingernails lightly down his back. His own hands crept upward, crossed her thighs, her hips, and up her sides, moving to gently cup her breasts. Again, Lyndsey responded, her hips beginning a slow, rhythmic pulse that sent a shockwave through his core.
Burke’s lips brushed past Lyndsey’s ear and he whispered, “I love you, Lynds.”
The pulse didn’t waver and she whispered back, “Not long ago, I would have thought that was the sex talking.”
“It’s true. I said it in Sydney too.”
“Not long ago, I would have thought that was Australia talking.”
Burke raised his head to look down at her in mock sternness. “If you don’t stop being clever, I might have to teach you a lesson.”
“Oh, teach me,” Lyndsey replied, throwing back her head in dramatic fashion while still continuing the maddening pulse of her hips. “I’ve been a bad student.” She dragged out the word “bad” and ended “student” with a little purr that sent Burke down on top of her with a new level of intensity.
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