The Spy Is Cast Page 14

I was just turning away to continue down the corridor when a gunshot exploded from inside the room. Horror drowned me as I jerked back to see the captive’s limp body hanging from its bonds. A glimpse of the head wound confirmed that his torment had ended. Permanently.

  I hung paralyzed in the corridor, struggling to force my lungs to expand as the two men turned away from their victim and strode toward the door. Toward me.

  A blip cut through my vision and the small accompanying stab of pain galvanized me into action. I folded virtual space to stand instantly in front of my exit portal. Adrenaline searing my veins, I stepped through into pain.

  I ground my teeth, trying not to make noise. My throbbing head jerked violently. After a moment, I realized it was because I was holding it with both hands and Kane was shaking my shoulders at the same time.

  “Aydan!” he hissed. “Aydan! Come on! Dogs!”

  I forced my eyes open and staggered to my feet, still half-blind. Kane dragged me down the path until I regained a semblance of motor control. Frenzied barking rang through the forest, too close.

  I shook my head, desperately focusing. When he saw I could move under my own volition again, Kane shoved me in front of him on the path.

  “Run! Get back to camp. I’ll draw them off.” I opened my mouth to argue, and he shook my arm hard. “Do it! Remember your priorities!”

  I met his eyes, closing my mouth on what was probably a sob. Then I turned and ran.

  I charged through the woods, trying to shield my eyes from the twigs that lashed my face. Men shouted and the barking reached a crescendo behind me. Fear for myself and for Kane drove me to reckless speed.

  I burst into the clearing and flung myself onto the Honda, skinning my knuckles as I frantically twisted the key. Rocketing along the winding path, my dirt-biking reflexes wrestled the unfamiliar weight and bulk of my ride. When I finally gained the pavement, I cracked the throttle wide open.

  The front wheel lifted as the engine roared, and I threw my weight forward to settle it, barely in control. Then the highway flew by, my frantic panting drowned out by the engine noise. The wind whipped my watering eyes and tore at my hair.

  Please, absent gods, don’t let me crash. No helmet. No chance in hell.

  I kept my gaze locked on the road, afraid to even glance at the speedometer. The turnoff rushed up and I braked hard and downshifted rapidly.

  And forgot how big and heavy the motorcycle was.

  I took the turn too fast, laying the bike over in a hard lean to compensate. Asphalt dragged at the footpeg. It didn’t catch, thank God. My turn swung too wide, and I pulled out of it in desperate terror of high-siding. Somehow I managed to hold it together.

  Braking again and trying to yank the bike into another too-tight turn, I overshot the entrance we’d previously used. Instead, I hurtled over the crossing on the other side of the fence posts. Too late, I spotted another post lying half-concealed in the grass, directly in my path.

  My heart couldn’t beat any faster, so it stopped.

  I stood hard on the footpegs, bouncing the suspension and cracking the throttle as I jerked upward to take the load off the front wheel. In my panic, I underestimated the power of the bike again.

  The engine surged, the front wheel reaching for the sky. The rear wheel bumped over the fencepost, but the ground sloped down into the valley.

  The motorcycle took air. My pulse rate redoubled, my vision blackening at the edges. Clinging frantically to the handgrips, I shifted my weight slightly back of centre and tried to adjust the throttle to maintain the right speed. The back wheel hit heavily before the motorcycle slammed forward onto its front wheel. The bike bucked and twisted and I barely kept my seat, braking again as soon as I dared.

  I jerked my eyes up in time to see Hellhound swing the gate open.

  Too close, too fast.

  Clutch-brake-throttle.

  The rear end swung around, a barrage of stones rattling against the gate as the tire gouged an arc in the dirt. Then I was through. I dodged around the corner and skidded to a halt in the clearing.

  Germain bolted to his feet from a log beside the RV as Hellhound ran up from behind. I gasped a couple of shallow, hysterical breaths, air wheezing through my constricted throat. My hands wouldn’t let go of the handgrips.

  A voice I didn’t recognize pushed out from between my teeth. “I think they got Kane.”

  Chapter 20

  My breathing wouldn’t work right, and I still couldn’t let go of the handgrips. I jerked my arms, trying to free myself. Somebody whimpered, and I belatedly recognized my own voice.

  Germain snatched out his gun and ran for the gate, out of my line of sight while I struggled.

  I felt the motorcycle’s suspension compress as Hellhound swung onto the seat behind me. He reached around me to turn off the ignition and leaned into me, his warm bulk at my back as he placed his strong hands over mine.

  “Slow down, darlin’. Just breathe.”

  He gently massaged my hands while I concentrated on steadying my breath. In. Out. Belly breathing. In. Out. Slow like ocean waves.

  The ocean waves jerked and wobbled as tremors rolled through my body. Hellhound’s gravelly voice growled soothing nonsense in my ear. Gradually his warmth eased my frozen paralysis, and my deathgrip relaxed.

  As my hands fell away from the grips I sucked in a ragged breath and collapsed against him. His arms wrapped around me to hold me close. I allowed myself a few seconds of comfort before pulling away to sit up.

  “I’m okay. Thanks.” I forced my tight voice to steady.

  Hellhound got off and lowered the kickstand, steadying the bike. I dismounted after him. My knees buckled, and I fell flat on my ass.

  A shrill giggle escaped me as I looked up at him from my seat in the dirt. He gazed down at me for a second, his face creased in concern. Then he sat down beside me and tucked his arm around my shoulders.

  The giggle went on a little too long, and I clamped my trembling lips together and did some more deep breathing.

  Germain returned, frowning down at us tensely. “No sign of pursuit. Aydan, what happened?”

  “I got in the n…” I began, and then caught Germain’s eye and stopped. “I… We… The dog patrol found us. Kane sent me back while he drew them off. I can’t see how he could have escaped.”

  Hellhound jerked around to look in my face. “The patrols never came out that far before. How close to the buildings were ya?”

  I sighed. “Close.”

  “But, darlin’, why…”

  “He’s resourceful,” Germain interrupted. “He could have gotten away. He might be working his way back on foot. That would take some time.”

  I surveyed his face and saw the grim reality. “How long do we wait? I could go back there right now and know right away if he was in…” I shut up again. Then the fear and frustration burst out of me. “Dammit! Arnie needs to know!”

  Hellhound’s arm tightened around me. “Then tell me.”

  “Not my call,” I gritted. I gazed up at Germain. He shook his head. “What’s Plan B?” I demanded.

  “Plan B is a full-on assault. It’s only to be implemented if you’re captured with the key,” Germain said reluctantly. “We can’t justify it for any other team member.”

  “But…” I began, and he interrupted.

  “I’m sorry. I feel the same way as you do. But we can’t. Kane knew the score when he went in.”

  The strength of anger poured into my legs, and I lunged to my feet. “We can’t just leave him! You don’t know what they’ll do! You have no idea what I saw…” My throat closed up and I spun away, taking a few shaky steps to stand with my back to them.

  “Aydan.” Germain’s voice was firm. “We’ll get him back. We just have to do it a different way, that’s all.”

  I stood trembling, trying to compose myself. Sweat poured off me while I gasped shallow, ineffectual breaths. My legs shook uncontrollably.

  Hellhound came around to sta
nd in front of me, eyeing me worriedly. “Aydan, when did ya eat last?”

  Nausea washed over me. “Around eight-thirty,” I whispered.

  “Shit!” He caught me as my knees let go again and lowered me gently to the ground. He knelt beside me. “Germain! We got any orange juice?”

  Germain’s worried frown hovered over me. “No.”

  “In my backpack. In the RV,” I panted. “Sorry. Stupid. Meant to have a snack when I got here. Forgot.” I struggled to get up, shivering in the heat. Sweat soaked my tank top.

  “Stay put,” Hellhound rasped. His arms closed around me and he pulled me back to lean against him. Germain reappeared and handed me the small carton of orange juice. I took it with both hands, trying to still their trembling enough to get the straw in my mouth. Hellhound took it away from me and held the straw to my lips. I sipped, waiting for the nausea to pass.

  “I’m okay,” I insisted. “Just need a bit of blood sugar. I’ll be fine in a minute. We don’t have time for this. Kane doesn’t have time for this. What’s the plan?”

  Germain squatted beside me. “The plan is that you stay there and drink orange juice until you’re ready to walk to the trailer and eat something. After that, we’ll talk.”

  “Talk now! Let’s not waste time!” I struggled to stand again, but Hellhound held me effortlessly.

  “I told ya to stay put,” he growled. “Ya can get up when that juice’s done.”

  I briefly considered doing a quick chugalug, but despite the urgency that hammered at me, I knew Hellhound was right. I subsided against him and let him feed me more juice.

  Germain relented and sat down on the ground opposite. “First we need recon. We need to know if they have Kane, and if so, where they’re holding him. We can’t just go blazing in there.”

  “I can do that,” I said. “I can go into the…” I stopped and gazed imploringly at Germain. He shook his head. I blew out a frustrated breath and continued obliquely. “I can check the rooms. If necessary, I can probably peek out a portal and see what’s on the other side.”

  “Did you get in earlier?” Germain asked.

  “Yes. I found a prisoner.”

  I swallowed hard as the memory rose in front of me. Germain’s face hardened as he read my expression, and Hellhound gave me another sip of orange juice.

  I shook off the horror and continued. “There were two men torturing him. He… I don’t know if he told them anything.” I dealt silently with my memories again. “They killed him. While I was watching.”

  Hellhound’s arms tightened around me, and I resisted the urge to turn and hide my face in his chest. I pulled away to sit up a little straighter instead.

  “Did you get a good look at their faces?” Germain asked.

  “Yes. Well. The torturers.” I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “The prisoner… wasn’t identifiable anymore. If I had any way of uploading those faces… You don’t have a n… connection here, do you?”

  “We have a satellite uplink.”

  “Then I need to talk to Spider and see if there’s a way I can dump that data to him.” I struggled determinedly away from Hellhound’s restraining arm. “I’m ready to eat now.” I dragged myself shakily to my feet and tottered toward the RV.

  Inside, Germain handed me a phone. “This line’s secured. The uplink is over there.” He pointed to a laptop on the counter in the kitchenette.

  I turned to Hellhound. “I’m sorry, if I’m not allowed to tell you about this stuff, you’ll have to wait outside while I talk to Spider. I can’t say what I need to say otherwise.”

  He nodded. “Do what ya gotta do, darlin’.” He clumped down the steps and strode away.

  I dialled Spider’s number. “Spider, it’s Aydan.”

  “Aydan, hi! How’s it going?”

  My throat closed up again and I struggled for a few seconds. “It’s… been better,” I said hoarsely.

  Alarm sprang into his voice. “What’s wrong?”

  I tried, but the words wouldn’t come. “Germain will brief you later,” I whispered. I cleared my throat and took a deep, calming breath. “Spider, I need to know if there’s a way I can access the Sirius network remotely. I’ve memorized some faces. If I could go into a sim and recreate them, then you could download the data and do facial recognition. Is there any way to do that from this satellite uplink?”

  There was silence on the other end of the line. “Aydan,” Spider said finally. “I need to know what’s wrong.”

  I handed the phone to Germain and sank onto the dinette bench to bury my face in my shaking hands.

  I heard Germain step to the door of the RV. “Hellhound!”

  The trailer rocked as Germain went out, and his voice receded while he spoke to Spider. The door opened and closed again, and soon I heard the sound of the microwave. A couple of minutes later, a paper bowl slid under my nose. I looked up at Hellhound’s scowl.

  “Ya gonna eat this, or am I gonna hafta force-feed ya?” His gruff words were belied by the gentleness of his hand stroking my hair.

  I gave him a smile that didn’t feel convincing even to me. “I’ll eat. Thanks.” I picked up the fork and started to shovel in the food. I recognized one of the mass-produced entrees, some sort of pasta with tomato sauce. It didn’t really matter. I ate without tasting it and scraped the bowl clean.

  By the time I’d finished, Germain was back in the RV. I looked a question at him, and he said, “He’ll check into it and call you back.”

  “Thanks.” I eyed my watch. Nearly an hour had passed. Kane could be running out of time. Or dead already.

  I shook my head to suppress the thought and got to my feet, feeling a lot stronger after the meal. “I’m going over there. See if I can see anything.”

  Germain blocked the doorway, his muscular arms crossed over his broad chest. “No. You’re not.”

  “You know I’m the only one who can do it.”

  “Yes. But you still have important intel. You need to wait until we hear back from Spider. If we lose you, we lose everything.”

  “Don’t try to hold me here.”

  “I won’t. I just want you to wait a little longer.” He pointedly eyed the fists I hadn’t realized I’d clenched. “You won’t have to fight me for it.”

  I sheepishly relaxed my hands and rolled my bunched-up shoulders. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it that way.” I sank down on the bench again.

  He gave me a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, his own posture easing. “I stood in your way once. I’d rather not do it again.”

  “Smart man,” I joked.

  The phone rang, and Germain picked up immediately. “Any luck?” he asked without preamble. I read the answer in the slump of his shoulders. “Okay. Thanks anyway.” He hung up.

  “It won’t work,” I said flatly.

  “No. He’s sending a link that will connect you to his facial recognition database. We’ll have to search it manually.”

  I clamped down hard, trying to stay in control. When I finally spoke, my voice sounded dangerous even to me. “You don’t seriously expect me to sit here for hours looking through a database.”

  “No,” he replied quickly. “I want you to give me as complete a description as possible of the men you saw. I have to stay here while you do the recon anyway. I’m the only one who can implement Plan B if necessary. While I’m waiting, I’ll use your descriptions to narrow the field. When you’re back, you can look at the shortlist while we strategize.”

  I blew out my relief in a long sigh. “Okay. I’ll need to take Arnie with me. He’ll have to operate the… um, signalling device if necessary.”

  “Hang on a minute,” Hellhound broke in. “If that patrol chased ya an hour ago, they’re gonna have fuckin’ massive security out there now. How the hell d’ya think you’re gonna get close enough to do what ya gotta do? Ya said ya were gonna check rooms? Shit. No chance.”

  Germain scowled. “I agree. That place will be crawling with guards now. It wo
n’t matter how stealthy you are, you won’t be able to get close enough.”

  “I’m not planning to be stealthy,” I said slowly. “I think a direct approach will be better. I’ll hide in plain sight. More or less.”

  “Too dangerous,” Germain objected. “If they’ve captured Kane, someone may remember the two of you attending the party on the weekend together. You’d be walking into a trap.”

  “I wasn’t planning on walking in. Do you have the site map with you?”

  Germain pulled the roll out of the closet and spread it on the table. I leaned over it, calculating distances. “I think we were about… here… when I made contact.” I marked a dot on the map. “Look at the layout of the building site. See how the road swings around here. Wouldn’t you say this distance is about the same?”

  I marked another dot beside the road. “What if a couple was just biking down the road and decided to pull off for a rest? Get off the bikes for a while, stretch out at the side of the road?”

  “That could work.” Germain’s expression lightened. “They’ll be expecting somebody covertly trying to approach the buildings. The woods will be crawling with security, but if you’re not trying to approach at all…”

  “Good, then it’s a plan. I better go check and make sure I didn’t blow out the front fork seals on the Honda, and then I’m ready to go.” I slid out of the bench.

  “Not so fast,” Hellhound growled. “What about this signallin’ thing? I can’t go in completely fuckin’ blind here.” We both looked to Germain.

  He grimaced and rubbed his chin, his hand rasping over the stubble. “I’m sorry, I don’t have the authority to make that decision.”

  “Then call somebody who has the authority.” I did my best to sound reasonable, and it came out just slightly less than a snarl.

  Germain apparently took no offense. “I already did. I put in a call to Stemp while I was outside. I shouldn’t have. I should’ve just gone ahead and asked forgiveness later. Now I have a direct order not to disclose.” His hand squeezed into a fist, the knuckles glowing white.

  I slammed my own fist onto the table. The paper bowl jumped and the fork clattered to the floor. “Fuck! Fucking moron! Head up his fucking ass! Goddammit!”