How Spy I Am (7 page)

He vanished down the
hall to return moments later with a small carton of orange juice. I
sucked in a mouthful, and the acidic sweetness brought a choking
rush of saliva. I sputtered and gulped, and Richardson leaned
forward, his brow furrowed.

“Take it slow,” he
advised. “You have to work up gradually after a three-day
fast.”

I swallowed hard a
couple of times and stared suspiciously at him. “Three days?”

“Nearly four,
actually.”

I sipped some more,
mind racing. “Why did he let me go?”

Richardson shifted
uncomfortably, his gaze darting to the corner of the room. “You
weren’t eating…”

“And…” I prompted. No
way Stemp would let me go out of tender regard for my health.

“Well…” He hesitated.
“I guess you should be flattered. He thought you’d find a way to
escape unless you were drugged and restrained. And he wanted to
make sure your funeral went off without a hitch.”

“My… funeral…” I gaped
at him for a second before fury ignited my blood. I lunged off the
bed. “I’ll kill him!
I’ll kill the fucker
…”

The room cartwheeled
wildly before blackness claimed me.

I lurched upright,
fists clenched.

Richardson jerked
back, his hands flying up defensively. “Aydan, it’s okay, you
fainted. You’re in bed in the safe house. It’s okay.”

I fell back onto the
pillows and lay panting, my heart hammering. The room turned lazily
around me.

Richardson’s worried
face hovered above me. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” I mumbled.

He eyed me doubtfully
before handing me the orange juice again. “Try some more orange
juice. I’ll bring you something to eat.”

He left and I dragged
myself semi-upright to slump against the pillows, sipping juice and
pondering. If he was telling the truth, I’d been effortlessly
outmanoeuvred. Everyone thought I was dead.

But Stemp still
couldn’t force me to decrypt any messages. And he was bound to be
getting antsy if four days had passed while files piled up in the
system. God, four days. If an agent really had been captured…

I gulped hard. Please
let him be lying about that. My stomach knotted and I curled around
it with a groan just as Richardson returned bearing a plate.

He quickly jettisoned
the plate on the bedside table and knelt beside the bed. “Aydan?
Are you okay? Did you drink the juice too fast?”

I uncurled. “No, I’m
fine. Have you heard anything about an agent being captured in the
last few days?”

He rose, frowning.
“No. I don’t hear about all our ops, but word usually gets around
when something like that happens.”

“Thank God.” I sucked
in a deep breath of relief. “So Stemp was lying. Thank God.”

His frown deepened.
“He told you an agent had been captured?”

“He said the agent was
being tortured and the only way to save him was if I decrypted some
files.”

“Oh.” He eyed me for a
moment, his expression unreadable. “I made you some scrambled eggs
and toast,” he said at last. He passed me the plate and utensils.
“Just take it slow.”

My stomach lurched in
desperate hunger, and I used all my willpower to take a small bite
and swallow it slowly instead of bolting the entire plateful in
frenzied gulps.

“Tell me everything,”
I demanded.

Richardson sank into
the chair and sat rigidly, hands braced on his knees, staring
straight ahead. “Stemp sent out a memo saying you’d been killed in
a car accident. Everyone was sure it hadn’t been an accident, but
they believed you were dead. We’ve always known you’d be executed
as soon as there was an alternative to using you for
decryption…”

He trailed off and met
my eyes awkwardly. “Sorry. That’s probably a horrible thing to
hear.”

I shrugged. “I already
knew that.”

“Oh.” His brow
furrowed. “Uh… Doesn’t that… bother you?”

I swallowed another
mouthful and bared my teeth at him. “No more than any other threat
of impending death.”

“Uh. Okay… Anyway,
after your funeral…” Richardson shot me an anxious look before
continuing, apparently hoping I wasn’t about to kill the messenger.
“…Stemp got Webb and the other analysts on the job to make sure the
news of your death reached the right ears.”

When I didn’t react,
he continued hurriedly, “And this afternoon Stemp told me I’d be
assigned to your team and sent me here. He’ll come this evening to
brief us both.”

I tried to hide my
dismay. “But… what does that really mean, you’ve been assigned to
my team? Does it mean Kane’s off the team for good? What…”

I trailed off at the
sight of his tense shrug.

“I don’t know. I have
orders to stay here and not to communicate with anybody else. Stemp
will likely make us both vanish.” Richardson blew out a breath.
“Rest for a while. You’re still shaking.”

He took the empty
plate and left me to my anxious ruminations.

By evening I’d eaten a
couple more small meals and made it out of bed to shower. I lounged
on the sofa in the tightly-shuttered living room, staring at the TV
while my mind picked compulsively at my few options.

Should I try to
escape? Keep cooperating until I knew more?

I was feigning
interest in a sitcom when a knock at the door made Richardson
spring to his feet, gun in hand. “Bedroom,” he snapped. “If I yell
for you to run, or if you hear gunfire, go out the window and get
the hell out of here.”

I was already on my
way down the hall, heart pounding, when I heard the sound of the
front door and Richardson’s voice. “What are you doing here? Jeez,
you still look like hell.”

The response came in a
familiar rasp. “That ain’t news, I always look like hell. An’ what
d’ya think I’m doin’ here? Where’s Aydan?”

My heart soared for an
instant before plummeting in fear, and I wavered in the doorway of
the bedroom, biting back the urge to call out.

Nobody could know I
was alive. If Stemp intended to make me vanish, he wouldn’t
hesitate to kill anyone who threatened his plan.

Even as the thought
boiled through my mind, Richardson spoke again. “You know she’s
dead. You were at her funeral.”

“Bullshit,” Hellhound
snapped. “I know ya got her here. I wanna see her.”

Oh, shit, Arnie,
you’re too smart for your own good. Please, just give up and go
away.

“You’ll have to go
now,” Richardson said firmly. “I have a protected witness
here.”

Hellhound’s rasp
sounded closer. “Yeah, I bet ya do. Lemme see her.”

“Stop right there.”
Richardson’s voice was hard.

Hellhound’s growl held
a world of menace. “Put that fuckin’ thing away or I’ll shove it up
your ass so far you’ll hafta open your fuckin’ mouth to shoot.” In
the next moment, he limped around the corner, his leather-clad bulk
filling the hallway.

My first impulse was
to dive into the bedroom and hide, but it was already too late. His
face lit up at the sight of me, and I abandoned any hope of saving
him from himself.

Besides, I was
selfishly overjoyed to see him.

“Arnie!” I flew down
the hallway to throw my arms around him. He grunted and stumbled
back against the wall, favouring his ankle as his powerful arms
enclosed me. His gravelly laugh was music to my ears.

“Hey, darlin’,” he
chuckled. “You’re lookin’ pretty damn hot for a dead woman. Gonna
hafta rethink my objection to necrophilia.”

He pulled me into a
long kiss, and I allowed myself to ignore everything else for a few
moments while I floated in the bliss of his touch.

When we came up for
air at last, Richardson was fiddling with his gun, pointedly
avoiding eye contact. After a moment, he gave us an awkward
glance.

Hellhound returned a
hard stare. “How long’ve ya known she’s alive?”

“How did you know she
was here?” Richardson countered.

Hellhound shrugged.
“I’m a P.I. It ain’t like it was rocket science.” He steered me to
the sofa with an arm around my shoulders and sank down on it, still
holding me close.

I squirmed up to
whisper in his ear. “Arnie, get out of here, fast! Stemp’s
coming-”

He silenced me with a
light kiss. “There’re surveillance cameras outside,” he said.
“Stemp prob’ly already knows I’m here. No point runnin’.”

“Arnie…”

We locked eyes for a
few seconds before I reluctantly gave in to logic. He’d been
peripherally involved with Stemp’s covert operations long before I
ever came along. Stemp and most of the other agents knew him. There
was nowhere to go even if he did run.

I snuggled closer to
hold him tightly, heart pounding. If Stemp harmed him…

Arnie’s voice broke
into my thoughts. “Ya okay, darlin’? You’re shakin’ like a
leaf.”

“Not enough food in
her system yet,” Richardson observed as he rose and hurried in the
direction of the kitchen. “I’ll get some more orange juice.” When
he handed me the small carton a few moments later, he turned a
tentative expression toward Hellhound. “Sorry about…” He gestured
at his gun. “Orders.”

Hellhound nodded and I
felt him relax. “Yeah, I figured. Thanks for not blowin’ me a new
.40 calibre asshole.”

“How you did you know
Aydan was here?” Richardson asked.

“News said she died in
a car accident an’ the TV showed her Saturn all busted up an’
burned,” Hellhound replied as he propped his foot on the coffee
table. “But I knew ya were drivin’ her, so I figured it hadta be a
setup. I knew about this safe house from ‘way back so I kept
checkin’ here. Saw the blinds closed today an’ damn if it wasn’t
you that answered the door.” He shrugged, grinning. “Figured the
chances were pretty good ya were hidin’ Aydan.”

He turned to smile
down at me and stroke my hair with a gentle hand. “Where ya been,
darlin’? I been runnin’ around for fuckin’ days tryin’ to find
ya.”

“Stemp had me locked
down and drugged.”

“Stemp’s a cocksuckin’
asshat,” Hellhound growled. He dropped another kiss on my lips.
“Sure sucked bein’ at your funeral not knowin’ for sure if ya were
alive or dead.” His arm tightened around me. “Lotta upset people
there. Ya got a lotta good friends, darlin’.”

“Had. They still think
I’m dead. Everybody thinks I’m dead.”

“Yeah…” Hellhound said
slowly.

I jumped as the door
clicked open, and we all froze at the sight of Stemp’s gun. Stemp
stepped inside and took a rapid visual inventory of the room before
lowering his weapon and leaning against the wall.

“Helmand,” he said
evenly. “Where’s Kane?”

Hellhound shrugged.
“Hell if I know.”

“If you’re here, he
won’t be far behind.” Stemp’s relaxed posture against the wall
never changed, but his gaze darted constantly between the two
entrances, the hallway beside him, and the three of us. “I should
have known he’d enlist your help.”

Hellhound snorted. “As
if. When I called him to help me look for Aydan, he said she was
dead, he was on leave, an’ he was gonna make up for lost time.”

Stemp shot him a
suspicious glance. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Dunno, but I’m
guessin’ it means he’s gettin’ it on with this Honey chick he met.
Hot blonde with big tits. Probl’y a stripper or somethin’.”

I came very close to
inhaling my orange juice. I gulped frantically, trying to hide my
shock. I knew I’d failed when Stemp’s gaze darted back to me.

“This must be a
terrible shock for you,” Stemp said silkily. “You and he were so
close.”

I turned my choke into
a snicker and tried for a cynical sneer. “I told you Kane wasn’t in
love with me.” I cuddled closer to Hellhound and slid a hand up his
thigh. “He wouldn’t waste his time. He knows I’ve been screwing his
best friend for months.”

I had to admire
Stemp’s self-control. He managed to keep his reaction down to the
tiniest twitch of his eyes, but I could almost see him reassessing
and regrouping at light-speed.

Hellhound’s arm
tightened around me, and I gave Stemp a bland look, hoping Arnie
was doing the same.

Stemp’s eyes narrowed
fractionally. “You’re lying. Kane investigated all significant
relationships in your life. He didn’t report that.”

I shrugged. “Probably
because it’s not a significant relationship. I said I was screwing
him. I didn’t say I was in love with him.”

The silence was broken
by sound of Richardson’s strangled cough as he ducked his head to
rub the back of his neck.

Hellhound chuckled.
“What, ya never heard of a fuck-buddy before?”

“This is irrelevant.”
Stemp’s deadpan mask was firmly in place. “Helmand, a piece of
advice. Stay out of our operations unless your involvement is
specifically requested. Interference could prove hazardous to your
health.”

Hellhound snorted.
“Fuck that. Your shit ain’t exactly been good for my health so far.
Interferin’ ain’t gonna make a difference.”

Stemp continued as if
he hadn’t spoken. “However, since you’re here anyway, you can stay.
It saves me the trouble of briefing you. Ms. Kelly, here is an
overview of your new cover. You’ll receive a complete dossier
tomorrow when you report for work at Sirius Dynamics.”

He withdrew a folded
sheet of paper from his shirt pocket and handed it over. I opened
it slowly, hope rising. Work at Sirius Dynamics? So maybe I
wouldn’t be relocated?

I scanned hurriedly
down the page, my jaw sagging as I absorbed its contents. The paper
rattled in my trembling hand.

I had to open and
close my mouth a couple of times before a croak emerged. “You’ve
got to be kidding me.”

I thought I detected
malicious glee in Stemp’s eyes as he responded, “On the contrary,
it’s a perfect cover. It allows you to remain here, it assures
Fuzzy Bunny that you’re dead, and thanks to your own activities
this summer, it’s already established. Completely plausible.”