Friends In Spy Places
Page 23
No, damn me.
Me and the fucked-up programming that urged me to hug him and tell him everything was all right and I was sorry for being such a bitch…
“Apology accepted,” I snapped. “So are you going to tell me anything more, or are we done here?”
Ian gave me the penitent look that had melted the nurse, and I braced myself.
“To be completely honest…” he said slowly, “…and believe me when I say that complete honesty is very uncomfortable for me… I…” He hesitated, then his words came out in a rush. “I made up the accusation against Nora on the spur of the moment because I’m terribly afraid of hospitals and I was hoping you’d stay with me if you thought I was in danger.”
The vulnerability in his eyes punched my heart so hard it left me breathless.
I swallowed.
“Oh.” My word came out faint, and my mind refused to supply anything more useful.
“I’m very sorry,” Ian went on hurriedly. “I understand that you’re furious with me, but in my defense, I knew you were investigating Nora anyway so I wasn’t completely wasting your time…”
His voice faded into the background as my brain rebooted and spun up to speed again.
“Hang on,” I said. “So you completely made up your suspicions about Nora? There was no basis at all?”
Ian paled and fell silent. Then his eyes narrowed as if in thought. “Actually, now that you mention it…” He straightened. “Will you please come closer-” He flung up both hands at the sight of my expression. “Please, Storm, I promise I’m not playing you. No matter how much I might trust your assurances that this site is secure, I am still an MI6 agent in a foreign country, in a situation where I can neither verify nor control the security of our communication. It’s my duty to do whatever I can.”
I sighed. He was right, of course.
Sliding my chair over beside his, I leaned in. “Okay, talk to me.”
“Thank you, Storm,” he whispered, his lips skimming my hair. “You’re right; my accusation wasn’t completely groundless, but I only just realized it. I must have subconsciously put the pieces together, and now it makes sense. Three months before Howard Coleman died, I was on a mission where I used a dose of Substance X, which is our classified designation for the drug…”
My heart slowly warming, I listened while he laid out the events I already knew. Finally, he was telling me the whole truth.
“…so Coleman’s death seems too coincidental,” Ian finished. “And I’ve simply never felt comfortable with Nora. You know how it is when your gut tells you that a suspect is hiding something…” He trailed off, then finished wryly, “Well, obviously you have the same instinct. You called me out; and I’m a professional liar.”
“True; but Nora actually was hiding something,” I pointed out. “An entirely fake identity.”
“Yes, and maybe that’s the only reason for my uneasiness,” he agreed. “I really have nothing but circumstantial-”
“Maybe not,” I interrupted. “Thanks to your fake suspicions I talked to Reggie about the drug, and I found out something interesting.” I turned to face him. “The drug doesn’t expire. You say your chemist reported that it failed because it was an old dose, but that wouldn’t happen after only a year. It’s good for at least five, probably a lot more.” Ian’s eyes widened as I went on, “So somebody…”
“…is lying,” Ian finished. “Bugger! I need to contact my superiors immediately.”
“How can I help?”
“I have a secure communication device in the other room.” He grimaced. “Which I have yet to clean.” He rose cautiously, bracing himself on the arms of the chair. “Oh, damn,” he murmured. “May I borrow your arm?”
One glance at his pasty face and sweaty forehead told the story.
“Sit.” I pressed him gently back into the chair. “Relax. Close your eyes and breathe.”
“Thank you,” he whispered, and obeyed.
“I’ll bring your communication device if you’ll tell me where to look.”
“You won’t find it.” He eased his head back onto the headrest, wincing. “I’ll just rest here a moment and then-”
A tap on the door interrupted him. I rose, Glock in hand, and opened the door a crack.
Dr. Roth’s frown greeted me. “Are you finished interrogating him? If he was convulsing and vomiting, we need to get him into the MRI as soon as possible.”
“The convulsions were fake,” I told her, and holstered my Glock before opening the door.
“Sadly, the vomiting was real,” Ian said, his eyes still closed. “As was the bleeding.”
“Which was your own stupid fault,” I replied without heat. I turned to the doctor. “He’s all yours.”
“May I have the guard again, please?” Ian asked humbly.
“Yes. I’ll make sure you’re safe.” I stepped over to squeeze his shoulder. “And I’ll be back to visit you as soon as I can.”
“Thank you, Storm.” He took my hand and turned that heart-wrenching vulnerable gaze up to me. “That means a lot.”
Playing me again. It was as natural as breathing to him.
I gave him a fake smile and left.
By the time I plodded back to the main reception area, the last of my adrenaline had trickled away. Hellhound rose as I approached, his forehead creasing in a frown.
“Jesus, darlin’,” he greeted me. “Ya look like ya just went ten rounds an’ barely made it outta the ring.”
“That’s how I feel.” I leaned into him. “I want to sleep for a week, but I’ve only got an hour before my next thing and I still have to go and see John.”
“Nah, skip it. I called him. He’s sick as a dog an’ doesn’t want us to come over.”
Suddenly and unpleasantly alert, I jerked out of my exhausted slouch. “What is he hiding?” I demanded.
Hellhound eyed me worriedly. “What d’ya mean?”
“He told me that yesterday, too! This morning the hospital said he was here, but what if he bribed them to say that? He could be halfway across the country by now, stringing everybody along by forwarding his calls to his cell phone until he vanishes for good!”
“Whoa!” Hellhound tapped my temple with a gentle fingertip. “Give your head a shake, darlin’. This’s Kane we’re talkin’ about.”
“Yeah, he’s a fucking spook!” I snapped. “You think you can trust them, but they’re all players and they’ll screw you over the instant it suits them.”
“Not Kane,” Hellhound said with certainty.
Arguing would be futile. He’d never believe anything bad about his best friend.
I sighed. “Maybe, maybe not, but I’ll never know. There just are too many things he can’t tell me.”
“Hell, there’s tons a’ things ya can’t tell him, too.” Hellhound shrugged. “Just like there’s tons a’ things I ain’t told ya. Everybody’s got shit like that.”
Alarm flickered cold in my belly. “Wh-What haven’t you told me?”
He folded me into a hug. “Stop freakin’ out,” he said gently. “If I told ya every little thing about me you’d die of fuckin’ boredom.”
I pulled back, frowning. “I don’t need to know every little thing, but I need to know the big things.”
“None a’ those left. Don’t worry, darlin’, ya already know all the bad stuff about me.” Mischief glinted in his eyes. “Unless ya find out about my thirty-fifth birthday party, where I got shit-faced an’ passed out; an’ when I woke up I was naked in bed with another guy, two chicks, an’ a goat.”
I snickered. “That doesn’t even surprise me.”
“The bed was in a department store window,” he added, straight-faced. “At noon.”
Helpless giggles seized me. “Ohmigod! Seriously?”
“God’s honest truth, darlin’. That was the last time the Forces busted me back to Private. Lucky I’d lost my uniform somewhere along the way, or I’d’a prob’ly ended up with a dishonourable discharge. I laid
off the booze a bit after that.”
I fell into the nearest chair and laughed until my stomach ached. When I finally recovered, I said, “Thanks. I’m sorry for being such a paranoid freak again, but Ian just messed with my head. The guy’s such a liar! Just a few minutes with him can make me lose faith in everybody.”
“It’s okay, darlin’.” Arnie offered me a hand up. “So what’s the plan now?”
I sighed and let him haul me to my feet. “Back to Sirius to update my reports, and then I have to go for dinner at Stemp’s. And probably see Nora again, too.”
He winced. “Christ. Your day just keeps gettin’ worse. Since when are ya buddies with Stemp?”
“I’m not. Moonbeam invited me.”
Hellhound’s eyes softened. “Guess ya can’t turn her down.”
“Nope.” A thought struck me. “Hey, she’d love to see you…”
His eyes widened and he backed away. “Shit, darlin’, I forgot to tell ya, I got somethin’ real important planned for tonight…”
I laughed. “It’s okay. I know how you feel about Stemp, and I wouldn’t do that to you. Do you have enough time before your ‘important thing’ to give me a ride back to Sirius?”
“Sure.” He settled his arm across my shoulders as we turned for the door. “I was only kiddin’. If ya want me to come, I will.”
“No, it’s okay. No need for both of us to suffer. I’ll see you at home tonight.”
“Ya gonna be late?”
I sighed. “No idea.”
Chapter 29
Promptly at five, I was mounting Stemp’s front steps when the door swung open. Moonbeam’s luminous smile greeted me, along with a warm rush of richly-spiced scents that made my taste buds flood with eagerness.
“Welcome,” she said. “Please come in.”
I stepped inside, stamping the snow off my boots and shedding my parka. Moonbeam appropriated the garment and hung it in the closet before giving me a warm hug.
When she led me into the living room, Skidmark rose from one of the chairs and claimed a brief hug, too. He was as scruffy and marijuana-scented as usual, but at least his clothes were clean and he was otherwise odour-free.
Karma and Stemp emerged from the kitchen, and a moment later I was engulfed in Karma’s hug.
Stemp offered me a polite incline of his chin from safely beyond hugging distance. “Welcome. May I offer you a drink? I have beer or non-alcoholic hot spiced cider.”
Beer? He had beer?
I wavered.
No, I’d better not.
“The spiced cider sounds delicious,” I said, somehow managing not to sound regretful. “Thank you.”
After the drinks had been delivered, Stemp gave me another polite nod. “If you will excuse me, there are a few remaining kitchen duties before our meal is ready. Karma, if you will assist me…?”
Karma grinned, joy glowing in his broad seamed face as he turned for the kitchen. “Just like old times, eh, son?”
Stemp smiled; a real smile that lifted both corners of his mouth and warmed his eyes. “Just like old times; only without the friction, and with meat on the menu.”
Karma chuckled and threw an arm around Stemp’s shoulders as they vanished into the kitchen, and my heart warmed at the sight of Stemp’s arm encircling his surrogate father in turn.
Skidmark snorted. “I’m getting diabetes from all the goddamn sweetness around here.” He took a swig of his beer, but he was hiding a smile in his beard.
Moonbeam perched on the arm of his chair and leaned down to hug him and drop a kiss on his lips. “Maybe now you’ll be able to develop some traditions with your son, too.”
Skidmark shrugged. “Not unless he learns to drink beer and work on cars. Cooking was always his and Karma’s thing.” His indifferent façade didn’t quite hide the regret in his eyes.
I leaned forward and touched his hand. “Try,” I said quietly. “He’ll meet you halfway. He’s proud of you, you know. He told me how impressed he was that you’d fooled him with your act all these years.”
Skidmark’s chin came up in his usual stiff-necked rejection of sympathy, but his eyes looked suspiciously soft. “Fine, I’ll try,” he growled. He took another gulp of beer and looked away.
“So, Storm Cloud Dancer…” Moonbeam tactfully diverted the conversation. “I do hope you like spicy food.”
“Love it!” I assured her.
We made small talk until Stemp called us to the table. After we had taken our seats, Stemp and I urged his parents to reminisce about their past missions; and narrow escapes that had been terrifying at the time became entertaining under the influence of luxurious butter chicken, soft fresh naan bread, and fiery beef vindaloo. Moonbeam and Karma adhered to the vegetarian side of the menu, and the rest of us devoured the vegetable curry and pakoras and samosas with as much relish as the meat dishes.
By the end of the meal I was certain that someone had slipped some hallucinogen into the food, or else I was asleep and having a highly improbable dream. Nobody fought, or even disagreed. Stemp smiled. Skidmark didn’t insult anybody. Moonbeam and Karma presided like the benevolent pseudo-spiritual leaders they impersonated at their commune.
By the time I finished the last mouthful of creamy rice pudding, I was vibrating with nerves. This was too easy. Too nice. Something was about to go catastrophically wrong, I knew it.
When Stemp rose with a regretful expression, I tensed.
“Please carry on with coffee,” he said to his parents. “Aydan, I apologize, but I have some matters to discuss that can’t wait for tomorrow. Will you accompany me to my study, please?”
My overfull stomach sank.
I knew it had been too much to ask to have just one pleasant evening…
I followed Stemp down the hall and sat in the chair he indicated. Swinging the study door closed, he took a seat behind his desk and activated a bug detector. I eyed the green light gloomily.
Here we go…
“I am on vacation as of now,” Stemp said without preamble. “Dermott has taken over for me.”
I had a memory-flash of Dermott’s murderous look when I had unintentionally revealed his sloppy management to a roomful of his commanders, peers, and subordinates two days ago.
“Oh, God.” The words fell from my lips before I could stop them, and I clapped a hand over my mouth until I was certain nothing else was going to pop out. Removing my hand cautiously, I amended, “I mean, ‘Okay’.”
“My parents and I will be flying overseas tomorrow morning,” Stemp went on as though I hadn’t spoken.
Despite my dismay about Dermott, happiness washed over me. “You’re going… visiting?”
Stemp met my smile with one of his own. “Yes. My parents will meet their granddaughter and daughter-in-law for the first time. And I will be with my whole family for Christmas.” He emphasized the word with satisfaction, and my smile widened until it threatened to split my face.
“That’s wonderful! I can’t tell you how happy I am for all of you!”
“Thank you.” Stemp sobered. “We will be taking a direct flight from Calgary to Heathrow, arriving Wednesday around zero three thirty London time. This morning I deployed an Interpol operative to infiltrate the Sirius Dynamics office in London and acquire the network generator and Ms. Stile’s network key. To the best of his knowledge, he was successful.”
“To the best of his knowledge? Did he get them, or didn’t he?”
Stemp clarified, “He acquired a USB thumb drive and twenty-four small pieces of circuitry. I did not divulge their purpose to the agent; and even if I had, he would have no way of testing them.”
“Twenty-four? Shit! Sam had duplicate network keys!” I did the mental math and sucked in a breath. “One set for each of the original eight Knight/mage pairs and two pairs for Rebecca, but… that leaves two pairs left over.”
“Yes.”
I clenched my fists in my hair. “So there might be another damn mage!”
“So
it appears.” Stemp leaned tiredly back in his chair. “But at least we have all the keys. The agent will safeguard them until we arrive. I will rendezvous with him to acquire them, and coordinate with Dermott to select a time when you can guide Ms. Stile to the network portal and allow her consciousness to exit into her body. Although I have divulged no details to my parents, they are prepared to work with me to provide whatever distraction may be necessary to achieve our contact with Ms. Stile at the hospital.”
“Okay…” I said slowly.
Stemp frowned. “You have a concern?”
“I’m just… thinking…” I massaged my forehead with the heel of my hand. “You’ll have to turn off the network generator the instant she comes through, because otherwise she could bounce back in again without realizing she was doing it. But that’s… there’s something else. Come on, brain…”
Realization struck.
“Shit.” Hot on its heels, a second revelation rocked me, sending a flood of adrenaline into my veins. “Oh, shit!”
“Do you intend to enlighten me about your concerns at any point, or merely gibber uselessly?” Stemp inquired.
“Um. Sorry. The first thing that hit me was that I can’t actually look through a portal and see where Rebecca’s going. If I go through any portal in the network, my consciousness always ends up in the place I came from.”
His frown deepened. “So you’re saying you can’t usher Ms. Stile through a portal.”
“No. Well, maybe.” I pondered. “If we both went through the same portal at the same time… we’d probably each end up where we came from. I don’t know. I’ve only looked through other portals, I’ve never tried to go through one.”
“A possible complication,” Stemp agreed. “But not your main concern?”
“No… well… one of them; but…” I drew a deep breath. “I just thought of something for the first time. We’ve accepted the idea that Rebecca got separated from her network key and ended up trapped in the internet, but…” I had to stop and swallow to moisten my dry throat. “…that means that I could get stuck in there, too, if somebody walked off with my network key while I was in there. We… we never tested it. We always assumed that if I got separated from my network key I’d crash out of the network in horrible pain, so we just… we never tried it.” I clenched my fists so he wouldn’t see my hands shaking.