Reach For the Spy (20 page)

He stood in the eye of
the storm, his reality unaffected by the chaos around us. He
reached out and I took his hand, letting him pull me inside the
circle of calm.

He looked into my eyes.
“Aydan, focus. Let’s go to the portal.”

I tried. God help me, I
tried.

The wave crashed over
me, ripping my hand out of Kane’s and slamming me into the ocean
floor. Rocks gouged my flesh while I rolled and tumbled in the
undertow. Flailing wildly, I tried to gulp a mouthful of air, but
choked on sand and water instead.

Drowning. My heart
thundered in my ears.

Suffocating!

Mindless panic took me
while I thrashed and struggled against merciless bars. The cage
squeezed tighter while I sank into the darkening depths. My lungs
couldn’t expand.

There was no air for
them anyway. My racing heart began to slow.

Through the twilit
green, my last sight was of Kane as he parted the water and lifted
me, cage and all.

Then his lips were on
mine, and I knew nothing but pain.

The pain began to
subside, but Kane was still kissing me. That was nice. First good
thing today.

I lay passively.

Maybe I should respond.
Most guys appreciate that.

It seemed like a lot of
effort, though. I lay still a while longer, enjoying the sensation
in a detached sort of way.

Yeah, just keep doing
that. That’s nice.

He pulled away, his
face rigid as he cradled my head in his hands. “Come on, Aydan!
Breathe!”

And suddenly, I
desperately needed air. I sucked in a long, wheezing breath, then
another, my body jerking while I choked and gasped.

“That’s it,” he
encouraged. “Keep breathing.”

As I finally achieved a
ragged rhythm and began to register my surroundings, Spider dashed
in the door, followed by Mike Connor, the security analyst who did
double-duty as a paramedic for Sirius staff. Mike stopped short,
staring.

“Aydan!” he stammered.
“My God... thank God... you’re alive.” He dove to his knees beside
me and hurriedly hooked up a portable oxygen cylinder. He worked in
silent concentration, checking monitors and watching me
closely.

At last, I caught my
breath. “Hi, Mike. Long time no see.”

He squeezed my hand. “I
missed you. It’s been, what, four months since the last time I
peeled you off the ground?”

I chuckled weakly. What
a nice young guy. “Yeah. I thought I’d see you sooner. Have you
been away?”

“Vacation. Don’t talk
so much just yet. Just breathe for a little while.”

I nodded and
concentrated on inflating my lungs. The oxygen seemed to be
helping.

Finally, he checked the
monitor. “Okay, your sats are back up to normal. Let’s try it
without the mask for a bit.”

I let him slip the mask
off. “Sats?”

“Oxygen saturation in
your blood. You were down really low.”

“Oh.”

Everybody stood around
and watched me breathe for a while longer.

“Can I get up now?” I
begged. “I feel fine.”

“Okay, why don’t you
get up and sit in the chair for a few minutes?” Mike agreed.

I hauled myself up,
Kane hovering with a hand under my elbow while I managed the few
steps to the chair and sank into it.

Connor consulted his
monitors. “That’s fine. I think you’ll be okay now. You should
probably go over to the hospital and get checked out thoroughly,
though.”

“Do I really have to? I
was just there. Twice. In two days. Three times in a row just seems
a little much.”

Connor chuckled. “If
you really don’t want to, I don’t think there’s any pressing need.
If you start to feel faint, though, call the ambulance right away.”
He turned to Spider. “Keep an eye on her for a little longer. I
have to get back to work. World of Warcraft tonight?”

“It’s a plan. See you
then,” Spider agreed.

“I really need to get
out of here,” I said, holding onto calm with both hands. Or maybe
clinging to it with my fingernails.

My heart rate increased
again at the sight of the prison-grey walls. Definitely
fingernails.

“Okay, let’s go,” Kane
murmured soothingly. He stayed close while I rose from the chair
and made my way down the hall. By the time I reached the top of the
stairs, my heart was pounding while I panted shallow, rapid
breaths. Kane took a firm hold on my elbow as we reached the top of
the stairs.

I shook him off when we
stepped into the time-delayed chamber, and he understandingly
flattened himself against the wall again. When the door released at
last, I stumbled light-headedly out into the lobby.

“Outside,” I mumbled as
I wove my way toward the door.

“Hold on.” Kane
unclipped my security fob and dropped it at the desk along with
his. In a couple of quick strides, he was by my side, his hand
under my elbow again.

I tottered outside and
leaned against the scorching wall. Sweat sprang out all over
me.

Kane peered down at me,
still holding my arm firmly. “Aydan, sit. You look like you’re
going to faint.” He dragged me to the steps and lowered me onto the
top one.

I let out a long sigh
and concentrated on slowing my breathing. “No, I’m okay. Just
hyperventilated a bit, I think.”

“Nice change from not
breathing at all.”

I lifted a painful
shoulder. “What can I say? I like variety.”

We sat for a few more
minutes, and then I stood up. “Let’s go back inside. I need to talk
to Spider.”

“No,” Kane said flatly.
“You’re done. That’s the second time you’ve nearly died in the sim.
No more.”

“I’m not arguing,” I
promised. “I have no intention of going back into the secured area.
But I absolutely have to talk to Spider right away. Can we go up to
the second floor?”

He eyed me dubiously.
“All right. But just a short meeting. Then you need to eat and go
home.”

I glanced at my watch.
Five o’clock. No wonder I was so hungry. “Deal. In fact, if you’ve
still got some of that orange juice upstairs, I’ll have some of
that.”

“Fine.” He followed me
in, scrutinizing me with a frown while I retrieved my fob from the
security wicket. “Are you sure you’re all right?” When I gave him a
nod and a smile, he sighed and added, “Go on upstairs, then. Webb
and I will meet you in a few minutes.”

I made my way up to the
second-floor employee lounge, where I collected a bottle of orange
juice. Then I slipped into the office that should have been mine
and leaned back on the small sofa, sipping.

A few minutes later
Kane and Spider arrived. Kane swung the door shut behind him and
they sat.

Spider leaned forward
eagerly. “What did you do in the sim? I found a very interesting
little piece of software.”

I grinned. “I’ve bugged
their server. Kind of. I don’t know what the right word for it
would be. But for every email that goes through, for every new file
that’s created, a copy will get dumped to our network.”

“Sweet!” Spider beamed
at me. “I can hardly wait to see what comes through. Are you
stealing their whole system?”

“No. It’s only going to
collect anything that’s active. I plan to sneak back in there and
check over their files later. And I’ll be able to tunnel into their
sync sites, too.”

“That assumes that you
go in again,” Kane said. “As of right now, you’re grounded. No more
network access at all. Not unless we can figure out a way to make
sure you won’t die in there.”

“But I need to...”

“You need to stay
alive. I barely got you out in time. We can’t risk that again.”

“Hmm.” I tugged a lock
of hair. “Let me think about it. There has to be a way.”

“Maybe, but not
tonight. Go over your software setup with Webb, and then go home.
That’s an order.”

“Aren’t you the bossy
one?” I grinned at his frown. “For once in my life, I’ll obey
willingly. I can hardly wait to get out of here.”

It was well after six
by the time I staggered out the door. But my little pet software
program was humming along beautifully, and Spider and his team of
analysts would monitor it around the clock. I went home feeling I’d
truly accomplished something.

I pulled up in front of
my house smiling. Yeah, I’d almost died. Again. Yeah, my entire
body still hurt. But I’d kicked Fuzzy Bunny’s furry ass today. And
I still had good food in the fridge. And it was still daylight. And
I didn’t have to go back underground tomorrow.

I grinned and did
fist-pump on my way to the house, before recalling with chagrin
that a) I was on camera; and b) a fist-pump hurt like hell. I
scuttled into the house and repressed the urge to sing while I
assembled a plate for supper. No need to torture the poor sucker
who’d gotten stuck with bug duty tonight.

I gobbled my meal with
more enthusiasm than I’d had in a couple of weeks. Then I did a few
chores around the house before heading out to my garden. Thank
goodness I’d done some hoeing before my dance with Harks and his
buddy, so I didn’t have to overtax my sore body.

Puttering happily along
the rows, I hand-weeded here and nibbled fresh peas there. I had
just crouched down to examine the blossoms on my beans when a small
fountain of dirt kicked up with a thud about six feet to my
left.

I barely had time to
register surprise before the echoing crack of a high-powered rifle
reached my ears. All my muscles convulsed with the electric shock
of adrenaline and I sprang up with a yelp to sprint for the house,
ducking and dodging. My muscles screamed protest, but I wasn’t
inclined to listen to their complaints when several more shots rang
out. Another bullet hit the ground, ahead and several yards to my
right. I rocketed up the front steps two at a time and burst into
the house.

“Somebody’s shooting at
me, rifle from the northwest,” I gasped as I pounded toward the
basement stairs. “Going to the basement. I’m armed. Identify
yourselves before you come in.”

I plunged down the
stairs and jerked around the corner to my gun locker, my breath
sobbing in my chest.

Goddamn gun laws! I
scrabbled frantically at the lock with violently shaking hands.

Finally it gave and I
snatched my 12-gauge shotgun and .22-250 rifle out of the case. I
realized I was cursing loudly between gasps as I grabbed my ammo
box. Stored separately. Just like a good little citizen. If I got
shot because I couldn’t get armed fast enough, I was going to come
back and haunt whoever made up these laws.

I flung myself into a
corner, two solid concrete walls at my back, and stuffed the shells
into the shotgun first.

Then the rifle. Ammo
scattered across the floor as I fumbled the box in my wild haste.
My swearing ratcheted up a notch. Scrambling on hands and knees, I
scooped up a handful of bullets and jammed four into the
magazine.

My back pressed into
the corner, I looped the strap of the shotgun over my shoulder for
easy access while I held the rifle.

I waited.

My entire body shook,
and I wedged myself more tightly into the corner. Come on, knees,
don’t give up on me now.

All was silent except
for the pounding of my heart and the sound of my panting. I stared
at the base of the stairs until my eyes watered.

Blink. Right. I could
do that.

Minutes ticked by and I
spared a quick glance at my watch. I had no sense of how much time
had passed. How long would it take for Stemp’s analysts to raise
the alarm, and how long would it take for help to arrive after
that? Please, please, let them come quickly.

And while I was at it,
I added a plea that they’d remember to identify themselves before
they came downstairs. God, what if I shot one of the good guys by
mistake? I gulped hard and the trembling redoubled.

My ass vibrated and I
almost leaped out of my skin. Christ, I’d forgotten I’d put my cell
phone in my back pocket before heading out to the garden. I fumbled
it out of my pocket. Kane. Thank God.

I juggled the rifle and
the phone. The phone lost.

“God-fucking-
dammit
...”

It hit the concrete
floor and sprayed pieces in all directions.

“
Goddamn-snot-gobbling-sonuvabitch-fuck-pig!
” I set the
loaded guns down and floundered across the floor, retrieving
battery pack, case, and backing. I jammed them back together and
held my breath as I powered it back on.

A creak sounded from
the main floor overhead, and I wedged myself frantically back into
the corner. Snatching up the rifle, I damn near dropped the phone
again.

Too terrified to even
swear, I stuffed the phone back in my pocket and pressed the rifle
butt against my shoulder, my chest heaving. Christ, I’d be lucky to
hit the side of a barn at this rate.

The unmistakeable sound
of my front door opening made me jerk the gun up into ready
position. The floor creaked as someone moved stealthily across
it.

My phone vibrated
again. A tiny silly part of my mind noted that I should have put it
in my front pocket instead. At least I could’ve gotten a cheap
thrill before I died.

Concentrate, dummy! I
blinked hard and refocused while the vibration in my back pocket
continued.

It was probably Kane,
but I couldn’t spare a hand to answer. The rifle was heavy. There
was no way I could one-hand it. And there was no fucking way I was
going die of stupidity, talking on my cell phone instead of
pointing my gun.

The quiet movement
above continued. Somebody was methodically searching the house.
Very soon, they’d come downstairs.

At a sound from the top
of the stairs, I nestled my cheek into the stock. Show time. The
crosshairs bounced crazily when I trained them on the base of the
stairs.

With any luck, the
intruder wouldn’t see me immediately. He’d have to turn at the
bottom of the stairs before he did.