Friends In Spy Places

by Diane Henders

  “I’ve started coming in at six. Honey gets the kids off to school in the morning, and then I can leave work earlier in the afternoon to pick them up.”

  The frozen place in my chest warmed. Life went on. Even when awful things were happening to some people, good things were happening to others.

  “I’m glad it’s working out for you,” I said, and meant it with every shred of my being.

  “Thanks. Me, too.” He ushered me into his office and closed the door. “Have a seat.” As I perched on the edge of the chair, he added, “So I’m guessing you’re here about the drug dose I issued to Stemp?”

  I froze. “J-just before he left?” The words barely cleared my lips.

  “Yeah…” Reggie gave me an anxious look. “Shit, didn’t you know? I shouldn’t have-”

  “No, it’s okay, I knew,” I lied.

  I should have known. Or guessed.

  Rebecca.

  “I’m just…” All my guilt and misery rushed out in a sigh. “I just know where he used it, that’s all. But that’s not why I’m here. Do you still have those video-and-sound-enhanced sunglasses I tested last summer?”

  “They’re in production but not available yet.” My heart was sinking when he added, “But I still have the prototype. It’s yours if you want it.”

  “Thank you. I do.” I hesitated. “Do you need to know why?”

  “Nope. Forgot to ask.” He gave me his scar-twisted half-grin. “You said ‘two favours’. What’s the other?”

  “That bulletproof, blade-proof jacket.”

  “Done. Anything else?”

  “No, but I owe you big-time for this.”

  He shrugged. “No, I’ll just log it in the development documents as additional testing.” Mischief sparkled in his eye. “Lucky for the Weapons Department that you’re so dedicated.”

  I fell back in my chair with a sigh. “I could kiss you right now.”

  “Whoa, baby!” He held up a restraining hand. “That’s off the table now. You blew it. You should’ve jumped me while you had the chance.”

  Grinning at our old joke, I rose. “Damn. I can’t believe I let you slip through my fingers like that. Now I’ll never get to know your left nut up close and personal.”

  He snickered. “Don’t worry, I’ll always have a special place in my nut for you. Come on, I’ll gear you up. Are you on your way to work, or on your way home?”

  “Home,” I said as I followed him out. “And if I speed all the way, I just might get an hour of sleep before I have to leave again.”

  “Fucking crazy life.” Reggie leaned down to trigger the retinal scan on one of the storage lockers. Opening it, he extracted the sunglasses and jacket and handed them over. His too-perceptive gaze flicked over me. “If you can’t sleep when you get home, take a sniff of tranquilizer from one of your darts. When you’re this exhausted you’ll fall asleep in the five minutes you’re out, but it won’t leave you drowsy when you wake up.”

  Relief coursed over me. “Thanks, I never would have thought of that.” Caution whispered in my ear, and I added, “Don’t tell Jack, though. She’ll give me hell if she finds out.”

  The undamaged side of Reggie’s lips quirked up, but his gaze stayed serious. “I won’t. I love that brilliant mind of hers, but she doesn’t quite understand that when you’re in the field you do what you have to do.”

  “Let’s hope she never has to.” I headed for the door. “Thanks, Reggie.”

  “No problem. Good luck.”

  When I crept into my house fifteen minutes later, the bedroom lights were already on. Disappointment made me slump. I had been hoping for a few uncomplicated moments cuddled up to Arnie’s sleeping bulk.

  As I walked into the bedroom he came out of the ensuite bathroom, a few droplets of water still glistening on his naked tattooed shoulders.

  “Hey, darlin’.” He folded me into his arms and I pressed my face against his warm moist skin, inhaling the fresh scent of his soap. “How’d it go?” he asked.

  Tightening my arms around him, I mumbled, “Shitty. Can’t talk about it.” Before he could ask any questions, I added, “Why are you up so early? We don’t have to be at the drop zone until ten-thirty.”

  “Yeah, but I want some time to scope it out an’ get set up.” He took my hand and led me to the bed. “Come on, darlin’, ya look dead on your feet. What time d’ya wanna get up?”

  “Never,” I muttered as I yanked my sweatshirt over my head. “Seven-thirty,” I added as I emerged.

  “That ain’t even an hour.”

  “It’s all I get. I want time to shower and eat something, and I have to leave by eight.”

  Arnie frowned. “Ya gonna be able to sleep?”

  “No idea.” I yanked off the last of my clothes and crawled under covers that were still warm from his body. “But Reggie suggested I should take a sniff of aerosolized trank, and by the time it wears off I should be asleep.”

  “Hm.” Arnie considered for a moment. “Good idea. Set your alarm, darlin’. I’ll stick around, an’ if you’re sleepin’ after five minutes I’ll just sneak out.”

  “Thanks.” I set my phone’s alarm for seven-thirty and extracted a dart from my trank pistol. Lying back on the pillow, I said, “I left the sunglasses on the kitchen table for you. Goodnight.”

  “G’night, darlin’.” He leaned down to kiss me, then drew away to regard me seriously. “Just remember, even if everythin’ goes to hell this mornin’, I’ll be there for ya. No matter what.”

  My heart warmed. “Thanks. I love you.”

  “Love ya, too.”

  I broke open the capsule.

  The beep of my alarm made me levitate about three feet off the bed. Patting my chest over my thumping heart, I turned off the alarm and headed for the shower. Half an hour later I was in my car, still chewing the last bite of my granola bar.

  The two-hour drive was a paradoxical combination of sharp fear and dull fatigue. I fought the drooping of my eyelids all the way, even though my pulse hurried in an unsettling rhythm.

  When my secured phone vibrated at a quarter to ten, I twitched violently and risked death by pulling out of the heavy traffic to stop on the shoulder of Deerfoot Trail.

  “Kelly,” I snapped.

  “Holt here.” Tension strained his voice. “The buyer just changed the drop zone.”

  “Shit. Can we cancel?”

  His frustrated breath hissed over the speaker, dashing my hopes. “Negative. Grandin bought us an extra half hour, but that’s all the buyer would agree to. The new location’s out in the middle of nowhere.”

  The fear I’d been holding at bay crashed over me like an icy wave. “Wh-what kind of ‘nowhere’?”

  “A fucking field out by De Winton. I hate this fucking stupid redneck province! Back in Toronto we’d-”

  “De Winton?” I interrupted. “I’m already northbound on Deerfoot! I’m going in the opposite fucking direction and I’m at least forty minutes away!”

  “I’m pretty sure that’s what they want,” Holt said grimly. “They want Grandin scrambling. No time to set up an ambush.”

  The dull red anger at the bottom of my soul welled up, glowing brighter. “Well, fuck them. If they want me, they’ll just have to stick around until we get there.”

  “I’m pretty sure they will, but we have to play the game. They want to meet where Highway 552 swings south and crosses the river east of Highway 2. South of the bridge there’s a pulloff where you can drive down next to the river.”

  “It’s an ambush,” I said flatly. “They’re planning to kill Grandin and take off with me; or just kill us both. Forget it.”

  The thump of a closing vehicle door was followed by the hiss of wind blowing across Holt’s phone as he lowered his voice. “I already called Dermott and said we should abort, but he gave us a direct order to go through with it.”

  “He’s a-” Remembering at the last moment that they were friends, I didn’t complete my sentence. “So we’re g
oing ahead?”

  “Yeah.”

  “But where are you and your security guys going to be?” I demanded. “The buyer will have eyes on the new drop zone already, so there’s no way you can go in and get set up there without him seeing you. And if Grandin and I go in alone, Grandin will make a break for it and I won’t be able to do anything because I’m supposed to be the unconscious hostage.”

  “You’re not going to be pretending to be unconscious anymore, and I’m going to play Grandin’s driver. The security team is already on their way. There are lots of little trails in the bushes along the river, so they’ll sneak in from upriver. There’s a sportsplex on the north side of the highway just after you turn off Highway 2. Meet me there.”

  “But what if the buyer’s only expecting Grandin and me?” I persisted. “Or what if they decide to eliminate all the witnesses and shoot you and Grandin? That’s what I’d do.” The words were out of my mouth before I considered them. “I mean… not that I’d kill people in cold blood; I just meant if I were them-”

  “I know what you meant,” Holt said. “And we’re just going to have to take the chance. I’m wearing a vest. I’ll just hope they don’t go for a head shot.”

  “But if you’re sitting in the driver’s seat, that’s pretty well the only shot they’ve got,” I argued.

  “If you’ve got a better idea, spit it out. We’re wasting time.”

  I didn’t have a better idea.

  “See you at the sportsplex,” I said.

  Chapter 49

  As soon as I disconnected from Holt’s call, I hit the speed dial for Hellhound. The call went directly to voicemail.

  Shit. That meant he was in position already.

  “It’s Aydan,” I said rapidly after the beep. “The buyer just changed the drop point. We have to be south of town near De Winton by eleven.” I described the site to him in as much detail as I could, hoping I wasn’t missing anything.

  My heart sank as I talked. He wouldn’t make it there in time. The original site was in the north end of Calgary, so his travel time would be a good twenty minutes longer than mine; and I was barely going to make it. There was no way he’d be able to take down his setup, pack up, drive to De Winton, and be ready for action.

  “Thanks for trying,” I added. “And don’t bother calling me back; I won’t be able to pick up anyway. I love you. ’Bye.”

  I disconnected and got back on the highway, taking the first exit to get onto the southbound side.

  Navigating the traffic with only half my attention, I racked my brain for a safer way to accomplish this meeting. By the time my exit rushed up, I still had no inspiration.

  I couldn’t drive us to the drop. I couldn’t control Grandin and look as though I was his captive at the same time. And if we cut Grandin out of the loop entirely and Holt impersonated him, and if our buyer knew Grandin by sight, Holt was pretty much guaranteed to get shot.

  Dammit, dammit, dammit!

  What would Kane do? Surely he’d have a better plan.

  Should I phone him?

  I growled and thumped the steering wheel. No. He had made it clear where his priorities lay. And after all my lofty talk about not influencing him, it would be pretty damn hypocritical to call him now and ask for help. He’d feel obligated to rescue me again; and if this meeting ended up being as fatal to witnesses as I feared…

  No. Just no.

  The sportsplex loomed up on my left, and I turned in.

  Holt was standing beside a white panel truck splashed with a gaudy ‘Fitz-Rite Fine Flooring’ logo, his phone to his ear. When I parked beside him, he headed for my passenger door. I popped the locks and he slid in, pocketing his phone as he did.

  “Where’s Grandin?” I asked.

  “Back of the truck.” Holt jerked a thumb in that direction. “I’ve been keeping him sedated. This kind of situation is his best opportunity to escape, so I’m taking extra precautions. We’ll get him into your back seat before he comes to.” He hesitated, not looking at me. “So, did you think of any better plans?”

  “No. Sorry.”

  He shrugged. “Okay.” Glancing over, he added, “Where’s your vest?”

  “This is it.” I plucked at the light jacket Reggie had given me.

  “Are you fucking nuts?” Holt barked. “Put on a fucking vest!”

  “This is better than a vest. It’s bulletproof and blade-proof, too. It’s a prototype I tested last summer for the Weapons Department.”

  “No shit.” Holt poked a tentative finger at my sleeve. “So you’re saying I could stab you and the blade wouldn’t go through this? Bullshit.”

  “It stopped a broadhead from a hunting bow at point-blank range.”

  “Wow.” His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “No wonder you suck up to Chow.”

  “Fuck off,” I said without heat. “Are your security guys in place?”

  “Yeah, I was just talking to them. The site’s clear except for some old farts ice-fishing down on the river, but it’s too late to clear them out. They’ve got coolers and lawn chairs and a campfire, so they’re probably not going anywhere in the next half hour; and we’re not going near them anyway. They should be pretty safe. The bushes block their view, and the way they’ve got their radio cranked they won’t notice us, or even hear gunshots if there are any.” He grimaced. “And if they’re working with the buyer, they’re too far away to be much of a threat. Our sniper will take them out before they can get to us.”

  I eased out a shaky breath. “I guess that’s the best we can do.” A glance at my watch did nothing to calm my nerves. “It’s time.”

  “Bring the car around the back of the van and help me with Grandin.”

  Holt got out and I followed his instructions, pulling in close to the double rear doors as he opened them. My heart thumped as I surveyed the parking lot and nearby highway. A cluster of parked vehicles huddled near the building’s entrance, but none were close to us. The sparse traffic on the highway whisked by, oblivious to the drama about to be enacted. We wouldn’t get a better chance.

  I hopped out and joined Holt in the van where Grandin lay sprawled on the floor in leg shackles and handcuffs.

  “Cover me,” Holt said. As I drew my Glock, he raised his voice and added, “Grandin, if you’re faking it, just remember that Kelly’s holding a gun on you. If you try anything, she’ll be really happy to blow your brains out.”

  He seized Grandin’s feet and dragged him to the doors of the van, then stepped down to the ground. Stooping, he draped Grandin over his shoulder, then pivoted and flopped Grandin’s inert body into my back seat.

  Swearing under his breath, he wrestled Grandin roughly upright and removed his restraints, then drew his weapon and jerked his chin at me. “Grandin, I’ve got you covered and Kelly’s getting in the other side with her gun drawn, so don’t get any ideas.”

  Hurrying around to the other side of the car, I sucked in a deep breath in the hope of gathering any stray courage that might be floating around in the frigid air.

  I didn’t find any, so I dropped gracelessly into the back seat and fumbled on my seatbelt left-handed.

  Holt closed Grandin’s door, locked the van, then rounded my car and got behind the wheel. We sat in silence.

  A couple of minutes later, Holt twisted and reached over the seat to give Grandin’s shoulder a rough shake.

  No response.

  Holt checked his watch. “He should wake up any minute now.” Enviably calm, he threaded an earpiece over his ear and tucked the transmitter into his jacket. “Black Team, this is Base, do you read?” He waited, then said, “Black Team One, report.”

  Another pause while he listened.

  “Black Team Two?” Holt asked. He listened again, then said, “Radio silence unless there’s a change.” Turning to me, he said, “Still no sign of the buyer, and the area’s clear except for the old farts. Our guys have a sightline to the road, so they’ll let us know if anybody arrives before we get there.”
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  I nodded and silence fell again.

  A couple more minutes crawled past. Tension ratcheted my shoulders up to the vicinity of my ears. God, waiting was far worse than action.

  What if the buyer had spotted our men and aborted?

  Or worse, what if the buyer had brought a team? What if they had killed all our men and were even now slaughtering the old fishermen to eliminate any potential witnesses? My stomach lurched at the memory of Dirk’s bright blood spraying across white snow.

  Grandin twitched and mumbled, and I nearly jumped out of my skin.

  Holt raised a sardonic eyebrow in the rearview mirror. “Don’t shoot him by accident.”

  “If I shoot him, it’ll be on purpose,” I growled.

  Grandin groaned and his eyes opened halfway. More long moments oozed by as he gradually regained consciousness. At last he straightened in the seat, his eyes focusing.

  “Grandin,” Holt said sharply. “It’s showtime. Tell me again what you’re going to do.”

  Grandin shot him a look that blazed with pure hatred. “I’m going to sit here in the car until the buyer drives up,” he said in a monotone. “Then Kelly’s going to hold her gun on me until you come around and open her door. You’ll lean in as though you’re dragging her out but you’ll actually be aiming your gun at me. She’ll holster her weapon and stand up, and you’ll hold her in front of you to hide your weapon from any observers. I’ll get out and pretend to grab her and push her forward. You’ll be right behind me with your gun on my spine. As soon as the buyer gets out of the car, your team will take him down. Then we’ll go back to the car and you’ll put the shackles and handcuffs back on me.”

  “Very good.” Holt gave him a short mocking round of applause. “And if you do anything besides what you just described, you’ll be spending the rest of your life in a wheelchair.”

  “Whatever,” Grandin snarled. “Let’s get this over with.”

  Holt shifted into gear, and my pulse accelerated along with the car.

  I could do this.

  I wasn’t in any actual danger. They wanted me alive.