The Spy Is Cast Page 13

  The sun burned down on my black-clad body and sweat trickled between my shoulder blades. I sighed again. Dawdling wasn’t going to help anything.

  I buckled on my helmet and slung my pack on my back. With a quick prayer to the god of bikers, if there was one, I fired up the Honda and pulled out into traffic, my rigid body fighting the corners, my trembling hands clenched on the handgrips.

  On the edge of town, I turned off into the vacant end of a mall parking lot and stopped, peeling my aching fingers loose and letting my head hang while I breathed slowly and deeply. Calm. Just do a few manoeuvrability tests. Get comfortable. Relax.

  I took a deep breath and kicked the bike into gear again to run up to a reasonable speed, braking and cornering hard to get a feel for the extra weight and bulk. I didn’t want to waste any more time, so I called Spider to let him know I was on my way before pulling out onto the highway to head west.

  I hadn’t ridden at highway speed for years, and the ache in my hands and shoulders reminded me once more to breathe and relax. At first I stared at the oncoming traffic, hyper-alert, but after a while I began to remember how much I used to enjoy riding. By the time I spotted Kane at the side of the road a half-hour later, the hot sun had relaxed my tense shoulders and I was smiling with the sheer joy of the open road.

  There was no mistaking the tall, broad-shouldered figure leaning against a mean-looking black BMW K1300R. When I pulled up beside him, I took a few seconds to appreciate the view.

  Like me, Kane was clad in a black leather jacket, which he’d unzipped in the heat. He wore black leather riding chaps over faded blue jeans, and I swallowed hard at the sight. Riding chaps for men are like cut-out lingerie. They just beg you to look at the good stuff.

  I looked. And was amply rewarded. Oh, yeah.

  I pushed up my visor, carefully keeping my eyes above his neck. The clean-shaven, distinguished businessman of the weekend had morphed into a dangerously hot biker, several days’ worth of dark stubble accenting the planes of his face and emphasizing his grey eyes.

  “I wasn’t sure it was you,” he said. “What did you do with your hair?”

  “I stuffed it down my jacket collar. Otherwise it just turns into a rat’s nest.”

  He pulled on his helmet and started his bike. “Let’s go.”

  We rode west for a few more miles until he turned onto a side road that was paved for only the first hundred yards or so. I followed him as he took a quick right over a gravelled crossing, threading between a couple of fence posts. The ground dropped off into a valley, and we rode down the short, grassy hill.

  A blocky, muscular man swung open a gate at the bottom of the hill. I waved to him as we rode through, taking a sharp turn behind a copse of trees. An RV and an enclosed cargo trailer were concealed in the forested area, with a red Yamaha YZF-R1 motorcycle parked alongside. As we rolled to a halt and dismounted, our gatekeeper closed the gate behind us and strolled over.

  I pulled off my helmet and slipped out of the hot jacket, leaving them on the seat of my bike. I surveyed the broad-shouldered man with a grin. “Carl! How are you?”

  “Hi, Aydan. Nice to see you again.” His brown eyes crinkled in a smile.

  I regarded his black ringlets with a raised eyebrow. “What’s with the rock-star hair? Or no, wait a minute, I know; you look like one of those long-haired WWF wrestling guys.”

  Kane laughed. “Germain’s getting in touch with his feminine side.”

  Germain rubbed a hand over luxuriant black whiskers almost long enough to qualify as a beard. “If this looks feminine to you, you’ve been out in the bush too long.”

  I laughed. “Spider would kill for stubble like that,” I told him. “He’s growing a beard. Or trying. So are you growing your hair long?”

  “Not intentionally,” he replied ruefully. “It’s driving me nuts. I just haven’t had time to get it cut lately.”

  “We can socialize later. We need to get Aydan up to speed and get into position at Harchman’s,” Kane said. “Let’s go inside.”

  As we trooped toward the RV, Germain grinned. “It sure is nice to see a face without a beard.”

  “Lucky I shaved this morning, then,” I said, to their laughter.

  Inside the RV, there was little evidence of the male-type clutter I had expected from guys who’d been camping out for several days. The sofa bed was pulled out, its covers rumpled as though recently occupied. I glimpsed another unmade bed in the bedroom at the back of the RV. There were a couple of backpacks lying in the corner, but the rest was surprisingly tidy.

  We skirted the sofa bed and I chuckled when the two big men squeezed onto the benches of the dinette.

  “They make these things for hobbits,” Kane groused as we settled in.

  “Still, pretty nice accommodations,” I teased. “I thought you said it was primitive. Is this how city boys rough it? Queen-sized beds, microwave…”

  Germain grinned. “If you really want to sleep outside in the mosquitoes, we’ll let you.”

  “Nah. I’ve got nothing to prove.”

  Kane got straight to the point. “So here’s the situation. Hellhound, Germain and I have been watching Harchman’s place from the woods since Sunday morning, taking shifts. Hellhound’s in place now. We’ve got Wheeler undercover with the security company, working the midnight-to-eight shift. Wheeler has placed bugs in the security office, employee locker room, and Harchman’s office, but we haven’t heard anything relevant yet. Wheeler also gained the confidence of one of the women who works with the housekeeping staff…”

  Germain winked at me. “It must be nice to be tall, blond and handsome. If it was me, they wouldn’t give me the time of day.”

  I grinned back at him. “Oh, I don’t know. I think that rock-star hair’s working for you.”

  “Getting back to the point,” Kane said firmly.

  “Right, sorry.”

  “This woman says Harchman has started a new business venture within the past few months, a wellness spa for businessmen,” Kane continued. “It seems Harchman usually has several guests staying at the guest house at any given time, so there are quite a few people around. But last night around 3:30 A.M., a panel van drove up to the guest house and offloaded at least two people from the cargo bay, plus a driver and a passenger. We couldn’t get a clear view, but we’re fairly certain one person was bound and blindfolded. There’s been no other unusual activity since. We need to know what, if anything, is going on in the network.”

  He turned to me, frowning. “This is where it gets dangerous. We need to get you close enough to access the network. We don’t know exactly how close that will be, or how long it might be safe to stay there. We may need to move you, fast. Can we wake you reliably from the network?”

  “Not really…”

  His shoulders tensed as he interrupted. “This can’t work, then. We have to be able to get you out. The risk is too great otherwise.”

  “Let me finish. There’s an alternative.”

  His eyes bored into mine. “I’m listening.”

  “Spider and I did some tests. Unfortunately, we confirmed that I don’t wake to the normal methods like touch or sound. It takes a pain stimulus to wake me from the network. And when that happens, it’s the same as if I exit the portal too fast. I’m completely incapacitated. And I’m loud. You remember what it was like at the warehouse this spring.”

  Kane and Germain both frowned, grim lines deepening in their weary faces. “So what’s the alternative?” Kane demanded.

  I showed him Spider’s device. “This. Instead of actually yanking me out, this device generates enough electromagnetic interference to weaken the signal that keeps me logged into the network. I see a blip in the sim, and I get a little jolt of pain. It acts as a signal to me that I need to exit the network. Then I can step out of my own accord, with no worse consequences than usual. All you have to do is hold the device against my wristwatch and press the button.”

  “Why your wristwatch?” />
  “That’s where the network key circuitry is currently hidden. And the device has to be touching the watch, or the signal will be too weak for me to detect.”

  “How do we know it will work consistently?”

  “Spider and I had a hundred percent accuracy in our tests. But if for some reason you need a stronger pulse, you can turn this little screw a quarter turn clockwise.” I showed them the adjustment. “But then you run the risk of actually breaking the signal. With the accompanying noise and drama on my part.”

  Kane rubbed at his frown. “All right,” he said reluctantly. “I guess that’s the best we can do. But we’ll have to be ready to move fast, because you’ll be visible as soon as you step into the network. Can you still use your disguise?”

  I grinned at him. “You’re going to like this part.”

  Hope rose in his eyes. “I could really use some good news right now.”

  “I can be invisible.”

  “What?” Both men jerked forward, faces intent.

  “Spider and Smith and I tested it thoroughly. I can be completely invisible in a sim. And insubstantial, for the most part. I can walk through any construct, if I choose to, without affecting it or myself. Avatars are different, unfortunately. If you and I were in a sim together, I couldn’t walk through you. You’d feel me, even though you couldn’t see me.”

  Kane relaxed back into the seat, his face clearing. “Well, that changes things. That’s the first good news I’ve had in days. All right. Then all we have to do is get you within range of the network.”

  I frowned at him. “I hope there’s some spillover of the broadcast from the building site into the surrounding area.”

  “We won’t know until you try,” he admitted. “Your access was so widespread when we were there Saturday night, I hope we won’t have to approach the buildings at all. I find it hard to believe they’re broadcasting over a range that large, but Spider says it’s technically possible. It just seems too good to be true.”

  “Only one way to find out.”

  He nodded. “Germain, you stay here. We’ll go and relieve Hellhound. Aydan will try to access the network. We’ll make plans afterward, depending on what she finds. Expect her back within one hour, tops. If she doesn’t make it back in that time, assume we’ve been captured and go to Plan B.”

  Germain nodded, his usually cheerful face serious.

  “Aydan, we’ll try to get access from as far away as possible,” Kane continued. “If we have to get closer, we will. You are the most important part of this plan. Your primary objective is to stay safe.”

  “But.” He sighed, his eyes reflecting old pain. “If you’re captured, I’ll have to ask you to make that wristwatch your top priority. If you can do it undetectably, drop the watch and leave it concealed somewhere. It can’t fall into enemy hands.”

  “Understood.”

  He reached across the table and took my hand. “You know what will happen to you if you’re captured.”

  I nodded wordlessly, not trusting my voice.

  “I hate to put you in this position. But if that happens… try to hold on as long as you can. Know that we’ll get you out as soon as possible.”

  “I know,” I said quietly. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter 19

  I followed Kane’s bike past Harchman’s driveway to a crossing about a mile down the road. He turned off and rode slowly through a narrow gap between two fence posts, and I threaded through behind him, acutely conscious of the unaccustomed width of my ride.

  We idled quietly in single-file while he followed a twisting trail through the woods for a couple of hundred yards. We dismounted beside Hellhound’s Harley Fatboy in a small clearing, and I strapped my helmet onto my bike for safekeeping.

  I eyed the Harley. “Not exactly a stealth vehicle, is it?”

  “He doesn’t start it up until he’s at the highway.”

  I grinned. “Lucky he’s been working out lately. It’s a hell of a big bike to push.”

  Kane led the way down a twisting game trail, and I followed, sticking close. “How much does Hellhound know about the network?” I whispered.

  “Nothing.”

  “Okay.”

  Kane took out his cellphone and punched a speed dial button. Seconds later, he disconnected. Catching my curious look, he explained, “I’m signalling him that we’re incoming. We keep our phones on vibrate. Otherwise he wouldn’t know who was sneaking up on him.”

  “Right, makes sense.”

  A few minutes’ walking brought us to another small clearing. Hellhound looked up from his binoculars as we arrived. A slow smile spread across his face as he looked me up and down.

  “Well, hello, darlin’,” he rasped. “You’re the best thing I’ve seen in days.”

  He was wearing leather riding chaps, too. Kane couldn’t see my face, so I didn’t even try to hide the way my gaze zeroed in on Hellhound’s crotch. He winked at me and licked his lips. Despite my nervousness, I felt a slow fire start down low.

  Kane ignored his antics, as usual. “You can head back to camp now,” he said. “I’ll relieve you. We need to get a little closer.”

  “We, meanin’ you an’ Aydan?”

  At Kane’s wordless nod, Hellhound bristled. “Ya puttin’ her in danger again?”

  Kane sighed. “Yes.” He met Hellhound’s eyes squarely. “No choice.”

  Hellhound scowled but nodded. “Okay, Cap. Watch out for the patrols. They’ve been random today.” He handed the binoculars to Kane. “Stay safe. Both a’ ya.” He disappeared down the path.

  I looked up at Kane. “Might as well try from here for starters.”

  I sat cross-legged on the ground and concentrated. Nothing happened. I got up, sighing.

  “That would have been too easy. Onward.”

  I followed Kane as he zigzagged along the trail, gradually angling toward the buildings. He stopped on a small rise. “Try it from here.”

  I dropped to the ground again and bowed my head.

  “Still nothing.”

  “Damn.”

  Several more minutes of stealthy travel brought us considerably closer to the building site. Kane held up a hand to signal a halt and turned to me, raising his eyebrows. I obediently sat again, concentrating. This time, I drifted insubstantially into a void.

  Heart hammering, I peered down at myself, making certain I was truly invisible. I took a deep, calming breath when I saw nothing. I began to drift silently, creating a barely-there ghost of the corridors that formed the network. Doors lined each wall, and I swore to myself. This could take a hell of a long time. I needed to see inside each room.

  I pondered, floating. What if I created a sim of a tiny piece of one-way glass in each door? Theoretically, if the room was occupied, nobody would notice me peeking in.

  Theoretically.

  I steeled myself and floated to the first door, taking a quick peek through. Vacant. I did the same for the next. And the next.

  I quickly evolved a system to save time. Unhampered by a physical body, I could zap from door to door without a time lapse. Zap. Peek. Zap. Peek.

  I finished the first corridor and hurtled down the next one, gaining speed and confidence. Everything seemed deserted.

  Peek.

  I froze, gawking into the room.

  Harchman was inside. The party scene from the gazebo had been carelessly recreated. Faceless people moved around, providing a backdrop for the detailed scenario at the bar. I stood facing Harchman, wearing my party dress. In his fantasy, the dress was a lot more revealing. Apparently he liked big boobs, too, because mine were inflated like volleyballs.

  As I watched, paralyzed with shock, the construct that looked like me brushed her tongue across the rim of her wineglass. Harchman’s avatar smiled and unzipped his pants, and the construct sank worshipfully to her knees, opening her mouth.

  Eeeeeuuuuwwww! I did a rapid about-face, compulsively wiping my lips.

  I hovered with my back to the r
oom for a few seconds, recovering, and then shrugged it off.

  Whatever. I really wished I hadn’t seen that, but it was harmless fantasy on Harchman’s part. I’d been known to have a fantasy or two myself on occasion. The enticing aroma of warm chocolate wafted to my nose, and I closed my eyes and banished it determinedly.

  Besides, Harchman needed all the help he could get. Fantasy was the only way he’d ever manage to achieve a boner that size. I stifled a snicker. Maybe all guys imagined themselves well-endowed in the sim.

  I turned back to the job at hand and quickly finished all the connections in the corridor. Then I turned to the brick firewall at the end of the hall. Drifting carefully through it, I surveyed the next set of doors. Letting out my breath silently, I started again.

  I’d slipped into an unconscious rhythm when I suddenly came upon an occupied room about halfway down the hall. I bit back a cry and jerked away so violently my insubstantial body rocketed backward through the opposite wall of the corridor and into another, fortunately vacant, room.

  Pulling myself together, I took several deep breaths and drifted back to reluctantly peek in again on the nightmare scene. My mind wrapped around it whole, storing it away in an instant to haunt me later. I forced myself to ignore the blood and instruments of torture and concentrate instead on the faces of the people in the room.

  Two men stood over a third man, tied to a chair. I memorized the faces. The first two were burned into my brain. I’d never forget them. The man in the chair didn’t have enough face left for me to identify. I’d never be able to forget that, either.

  I backed away, swallowing hard. Just a simulation. The man in the chair was physically unharmed. Somewhere.

  The knowledge didn’t help much. I knew he was suffering as much as if it was actually happening to him in real life.

  I drew a couple of ragged breaths and squelched my initial impulse to rush out of the network and report to Kane immediately. He had said two people were brought in. I forced myself into research mode.