Spy High (42 page)

Time to shore up this thin ice.

“It’s all right,” I said. “I can tell
you that.”

Now I needed to choose my facts
carefully. All true, but…

“My cover identity is a bookkeeper at
the same office as Ste… Cosm…” I began. “Sorry, I’m just going to
call him Stemp. It’s what I’m used to.” Karma nodded encouragingly
and I continued, “So we work together sometimes. And you’re right,
I do respect him. He’s very good at his job.” I studied them
carefully, not wanting to miss any nuance of reaction. “Do you
remember getting a telephone call from the police a few months
ago?”

“Yes. Dermott, I believe the officer’s
name was.” Karma paused his suturing to frown at me. “He was trying
to find Cosmic River Stone. We researched Dermott and he checked
out. When we asked Cosmic River Stone about it later he deflected
our questions. Were you involved in that?”

“Yes.” I projected my very best
honesty. “It was an internal investigation and your son was under
suspicion. I believed he was innocent but the police insisted on
searching his house while he was out of town. I got the key from
his neighbour, and I cleaned up a bit after the search. That’s why
I know what’s in his bedroom.”

“Oh.” Moonbeam sighed and slumped
against the blankets. “Well, thank you for taking his side. No
wonder you mean so much to him.”

Karma cocked an ear at a distant
rumble. “There goes the truck. Let’s wrap this up.”

“Agreed,” Moonbeam said. “So, Storm
Cloud Dancer, will you stay here permanently?”

“Will I what?” I stared at
Moonbeam.

Beside her, Karma paused his suturing
again to repeat, “We want you to stay. Permanently. Take over from
us.”

“In case you hadn’t noticed, we’re not
getting any younger,” Skidmark put in.

“Our members are our surrogate
children,” Moonbeam added. “We want to be sure they are protected
and their way of life is preserved even after we’re gone.”

I scrubbed my hands over my face.

Too tired. Not grasping the
concept.

“Let me get this straight,” I said
slowly. “You want me to stay here. Pretend the Earth Spirit is
real. Live out in the middle of Bumfuck Nowhere in a tent in the
rain with no hot showers or electricity for the rest of my life, on
the off-chance that some terrorist group might just happen to rent
the land across the river.”

Moonbeam’s face fell. “Well… I suppose
when you put it like that…”

Skidmark blew out a breath and sank
down to sit on the mattress by her feet. “That’s what Rand said,
too, when we asked him.” He shrugged. “But he was a city boy. Never
comfortable in the outdoors the way you are. We were hoping…” He
trailed off.

“We had originally planned for Cosmic
River Stone to take over the commune when he reached adulthood,”
Karma said. “We taught him everything we knew. Made sure he had the
optimum education for a career in covert operations. He had the
intellect, the temperament… he would have been a perfect fit. We
were going to send him for advanced training and reveal the
operation to him when he was ready, but…” Karma’s shoulders
slumped.

“Now he’s wasting all that in a
civilian management job,” Skidmark said bitterly, but I barely
heard him.

Shit, I’d been right. Stemp really had
been born to be a spy.

I shook myself back to the present.
“I’m sorry that didn’t work out for you. But we’re short on time
and I have some more questions. Why didn’t those nutcases just run
back to their truck and drive away when they realized we were
picking them off? And if you knew they were that much of a threat,
why didn’t you just blow the bridge and let JTF2 come in and clean
them up?” I made fists in my hair and tugged, trying to release the
knotted muscles in my neck. “And if Orion’s not going to mention
you in his reports, he’ll have to mention John and Arnie and me.
There’s no way anybody will believe he took out sixteen guys using
hand-to-hand combat and three different types of firearms, so how
can you promise he won’t reveal our involvement?”

“When we first began researching you,
Orion Moonjava agreed not to mention you in any official channels,”
Moonbeam assured me. “We assumed if you hadn’t initiated contact
with him you weren’t aware of his operation, and we couldn’t
imagine that you were undertaking any other sort of covert
operation. The scope for that sort of activity is rather limited
around here. So we decided that you were either in hiding, or else
recovering as per your story. We researched your Dr. Rawling and
discovered he specializes in PTSD, so your night terrors and
regular contact with him supported the latter. Orion Moonjava will
likely have to report that he had outside help, but your identity
won’t be revealed, nor that of Kane and Helmand.”

“And to answer your first question, the
groups were in radio contact,” Skidmark added. “When the first
truck got stopped at the roadblock they radioed their buddies here.
They knew they were trapped so they tried to do as much damage as
possible. Die a heroic death in combat.” Skidmark looked as though
he wanted to spit on the floor. “Scum.”

“And we didn’t blow the bridge because
we expected them to leave together,” Moonbeam finished. “Which I
believe they would have done if not for Ratboy’s absence.”

“That asshole,” I snarled. Now I wanted
to spit, too.

“Well…” Skidmark rose tiredly. “Guess
we’re done here. In a couple of hours JTF2 will have everything
cleaned up at the roadblock and by morning there won’t be a sign
that anything happened. Come on, Storm. You can pick up your gear
from the control room.”

I eyed his drawn face. “It’s okay, I’ll
just let myself in and get it. You’ve had enough activity for one
night.”

He snorted. “All I did was walk down
here from the garage. And you can’t get back into the control room.
I’ve already relocated the keypad and changed the code. If Helmand
starts poking around there, all he’ll find is a keypad that lets
him into a little storage closet under that brush pile. We’ll
access the control room from a different door now.”

I must have looked incredulous, because
Moonbeam smiled. “Remember, dear, we’ve been here for over forty
years. We have to have backup plans in case our members find our
access doors. The official story is that we maintain locked storage
areas so our members can store any valuables they may want to
protect.”

I shook my head slowly. “You’re
amazing.”

“Thank you, dear.” She smiled. “Now go
and get your gear. Soon you’ll need to debrief with your men.”

My heart clutched at the thought.
Please let them be okay…

Cold rain was pelting down when we
emerged from the tent, and I swore and dragged my night vision
headset on before pulling up my hood.

Skidmark eyed the sky with approval.
“Good. That’ll clean up the blood in the woods.”

I sighed and limped after him.

Climbing the hill to the garage our
paces were evenly matched. I limped; he panted and wheezed while
his lungs laboured to keep up with the exertion.

When we reached the garage, he gasped,
“Wait here,” and plodded off into the darkness behind it.

Leaning against the building under the
relative shelter of the eaves, I drew a deep breath and let it out
slowly, trying to calm my skittering heart.

I still expected gunshots and muzzle
flashes. Every time the wind rustled in the undergrowth my muscles
tensed.

And my worry for Kane and Hellhound
pulsed through my heart like aching poison. Kane was probably all
right. He had checked in with Orion’s radio, and somebody had to be
driving the truck. Orion couldn’t drive with a broken leg, and Kane
wouldn’t leave unless the bodies had been collected. He must have
been in good enough shape to be capable of that.

But I’d seen him push through and
disregard injuries before. He’d finish the mission as long as he
was conscious and capable of forcing himself to move.

But Hellhound…

What if he’d been injured? Or even
killed? Kane had no way of finding or contacting me. He’d finish
the mission regardless, putting duty ahead of his personal feelings
as he always did.

What if ‘I love you’ had been Arnie’s
last words to me? I hadn’t even told him I loved him in return…

A twig snapped and my hand flew to my
gun.

“Stand down,” Skidmark said hurriedly
as he emerged from the woods. “It’s just me. Here.” He held out my
backpack and waist pouch. “They’re just like you left them. I
didn’t look inside.”

“Thanks.” I accepted the waist pouch
and strapped it on, then reached for the backpack. “I wasn’t
worried.”

Mainly because I had all my classified
gear in my pockets, but he didn’t need to know that.

I frowned at the object in his other
hand. “What the hell are you going to do with that?”

He hefted the metal detector tiredly.
“Pick up the cartridges. Don’t want the members finding them. Where
did you engage?”

I described the approximate locations
where I’d seen muzzle flashes and where I thought Hellhound’s
position might have been. Then I added, “But what if one of the
members catches you? It’s going to be pretty damn hard to explain
why you’re out in the middle of the night…” I paused and checked my
watch. “Hell, ‘way too early morning, with a metal detector.”

He shrugged. “Nobody’ll ask. I’m a
wasted stoner. I stink, I’m old and ugly, and I piss off anybody
who comes near me. If I want to wander around in the dark and rain
with a metal detector, nobody’s going to give a shit.”

For an instant I glimpsed a proud
lonely man who had spent his life protecting people who gave him
nothing but hostility in return.

He lifted his chin, his level gaze
rejecting any sympathy.

I hid the contraction of my heart in a
grin and planted my hands on my hips. “I know you’re angling for a
pity fuck. Nice try, but it won’t work.”

He let out a whoop of laughter and
staggered over to prop himself against the garage while he coughed
and wheezed. “Girlie,” he gasped at last, “Any time you want to
come back, you’re welcome here. I’ll even share my beer.”

“I might take you up on that. You know,
I just realized that was one of the things that was subliminally
bothering me about you. I didn’t see an icebox up here and I
couldn’t figure out how you kept your beer cold.” He laughed, and I
added, “Well, that and the fact that you seemed to go from stoned
to sober in seconds flat.”

He grunted. “I’m out of practice. Not
used to holding my cover longer than it usually takes to piss
people off.”

I hesitated, then inclined my head in
the direction of the garage and the half-stripped truck. “So…
sabotaging the vehicles… is that post-traumatic stress? There’s
help available, if you want it.”

“Thanks, but no. Just making it harder
for the terrorists. We knew they’d need the truck to bring in their
weapons so the longer we stalled them the better. And it kept you
where we could see you.” He gave me a not-too-intimidating scowl.
“Trying to protect you was a pain in the ass. Wish we’d known for
sure you were an agent.”

I grimaced. “Sorry about that. But I’m
glad you’re not suffering.”

“Nah.” He gave me a shrewd once-over.
“So what’s your story? Why were you really here?”

“Uh…” My tired brain refused to
disgorge any useful lies. “I really was just, um… recovering,” I
said lamely.

“Uh-huh.” Skidmark surveyed me, eyes
narrowed. “I bet your last op went south,” he said after a long
moment. “You went a little too far questioning some dirtbag and
things got messy so they put you on admin leave until they could
decide what to do with you. And if Rand says anything about how you
manhandled him, it’s gonna look even worse. You facing disciplinary
action?”

“No,” I muttered. “Just admin
leave.”

His gold tooth glinted in a grin. “Huh.
Your boys covered it up for you, didn’t they?” When I stared at
him, he added, “Yeah, I caught that part where you said ‘no cleanup
this time
’ when you were telling them about questioning
Rand.” The smile disappeared into his beard as he studied me.
“Girlie, don’t look so sick. Sometimes we gotta do what’s gotta be
done. If we end up in hell for it, well...” He shrugged and
extended his hand, his eyes solemn. “Proud to serve with you.”

I accepted his handshake and choked,
“Thanks.” I cleared my throat and added, “Proud to serve with you,
too.” I nodded at the metal detector. “Let me know if you want
help.”

“Nope, just keep Kane and Helmand busy
for the rest of the night.” He leered. “You can do that, right? Can
I come by and watch later?”

I grinned and shook my head at him.
“Get out of here, you old pervert.”

He wheezed laughter and headed for the
road.

As soon as he was out of sight I
pressed closer to the building to stay out of the rain and
unearthed a secured phone from the bottom of my pack. Stemp
answered on the first ring as usual.

Holding back my need to rip a strip off
him, I kept my tone dispassionate. “We had a problem here tonight.
It turned out the renters were a terrorist group that planned to
attack the Parliament buildings in Victoria tomorrow morning. Orion
was an undercover MI6 agent named Ian Rand, working with a Five
Eyes operation to monitor the terrorists here.”

I paused, but he admitted nothing.
Bastard.

“We killed half the terrorists,” I
continued. “JTF2 cleaned up the other half at a roadblock outside
the commune. No civilian casualties, but your mom cut her arm on a
piece of broken glass. Not life-threatening. The bodies have been
removed and everything’s cleaned up. None of the members realized
anything was happening. Rand won’t disclose our identities to Five
Eyes. I haven’t had time to debrief with Kane and Hellhound
yet.”