Authors: Nicola Claire
This store’s security cameras were closed looped, off-grid, and thoroughly deleted upon my exit. It would be as if I’d never been there. Sure, the Police CCTV cameras - and Mal - had me entering the shop, but once inside their influence ended. I had a nice little digital camera with its crisp receipt in my satchel to cover my tracks. And ten thousand dollars worth of fenced computer equipment.
Untraceable.
Invisible.
Simply nonexistent in the real world.
I smiled to myself as the sun kissed my cheeks.
But one look at my carbon black Diavel sitting at the side of the road waiting for me, and even the sun felt like it dived behind a cloud. I knew what I had to do. Letting out a sigh, I climbed on and headed towards the closest Ducati dealership. Thirty minutes later I was on a limited edition Diavel Titanium, a smile gracing my face once again.
Auckland City might be black. ASI might be black. My assignment might be black. And this whole fucking situation might be looking bloody black right now.
But I’d never let a little thing like that cower me before. I wasn’t going to now.
M
y apartment was out
. Potentially. And I didn’t have a fall-back location set up. Auckland had only ever been a brief stop between assignments; never here long enough to lay down roots. I knew the city well, like I knew every major city throughout the world. I could drive it practically blindfolded. But I’d never deemed it necessary to layer myself here. To have alternate safe houses to retreat to if need be.
I’d spent more time overseas than in New Zealand. I was considered one of the top international specialists that the Department had. Fluent in six languages. Capable of blending in almost anywhere. Anywhere a female agent was needed, that is. But for some reason the sudden need to seek alternate accommodation left me feeling obtrusive. More visible than I had ever been before.
I spent thirty minutes losing any tail I might have acquired through the local eye-in-the-sky CCTV system, and then pulled up in front of some long term storage units in Mangere. Ten minutes later I had a small two by three metre unit, complete with electricity, and a plastic chair and Formica topped table purchased from the abandoned contents locker on site. Within moments of acquiring the storage space I had my newly acquired laptop set up and raring to go.
I spent the next fifteen minutes just staring at the screen.
Caleb had contacted me through the secured system all our specialists had access to. All of the Department handlers and heads had access to, as well. If he had wanted to meet off-grid he would have found an alternate way. Used our dead drop; one we’d set up several months ago. Left a coded phrase on a social media site. Any number of things. Deleting his Department message might have been a hasty mistake. The type of mistake I don’t usually make.
I let out a long breath of air, but didn’t move to enter any commands on the laptop before me.
Contacting Caleb off-grid could be an escalation in that original mistake. If Caleb was part of the plan to test me, trap me, then doing so would lead to questions the Department wouldn’t bother to ask; they’d just act on. And the type of action the Director would order could be lethal.
The issue that needed resolution was not whether Caleb could be trusted, but why was I being tested at all?
I needed help, but finding it, in a city I had never been assigned to before, was going to require some lateral thinking.
The only solution I had was ASI.
This assignment meant something to the Department. The test, if it was indeed a test, revolved around whatever was going on at the place. It could be that the Department was using ASI as a means to test me and nothing was untoward there at all. A possibility that left me feeling all kinds of confused. But for the Department to use resources of
any
kind, regardless of their status within our team, cost money. A lot of money.
And just to test whether I’d gone rogue or not didn’t wash with me. It was more likely they were killing two birds with one stone. They were after ASI for whatever reason, that had not as yet been divulged to me, and in the process they were testing my loyalty.
The question was, where did my loyalty lie?
I stretched the fingers on my right hand and then closed the laptop down. Contacting Caleb now would be premature. I needed more information. I could hack the Department’s computers, but I doubted I’d gain any useful intel there and would only raise the risk of being caught. For now, I was blind.
But not without assets of my own.
I had no idea what was going on, but everything came back to ASI. I locked the storage unit, knowing I’d be returning as soon as I could to either contact Caleb off-grid or destroy my fall-back shack. Either way, having a retreat position with suitable electronics was reassuring. I made a mental note to store some back-up ammunition there as well.
I checked my watch. Twenty after six. ASI would be on evening lockdown, Adam, my reluctant and disconcertingly attractive sub-target, would be grabbing a drink at the bar they all seemed to frequent, just down the road on Broadway. If he wasn’t on assignment, that is. I hadn’t planned on throwing myself into the fire quite so quickly, but I needed help. And the irony of using the firm I was investigating, that had been chosen as the means for the Department to investigate me, right now seemed to fit.
Within half an hour I was pushing through the red wooden door of the basement pub, The Claddagh, and being assailed by The Pogues. Conversation, the clink of glass on glass, the raucous laughter of a group of happy hour drinkers competed with “Dirty Old Town” over the speakers. The smell of pub food; hamburgers, Buffalo chips, curry and garlic bread, wafted on the air, mixed in with the heady scent of stout beer. It was alive and pulsing, but the worn wooden floors and tables, the rustic wine barrels and thick, dark painted, pitted beams all made it homely. The four leaf clovers dotted here and there on the ceiling told you the pub didn’t take itself too seriously.
And neither did the patrons. Some sang along; out of tune and proud of it. Others were too busy joking and talking, telling tall tales as they sipped their Guinnesses.
I scanned the crowded room, coming up empty. But it was obvious The Claddagh provided an array of seating areas for their clientele. The main room branched off into smaller, equally as packed rooms, hidden out of sight. I wandered up to the bar and ordered a brew, then made my way towards the nether regions of the pub, following a gut instinct that had led me to my marks more than once before.
I found them in a corner, as far from the clamorous pub crawlers as they could get; a section that made me think only regulars were invited. Indeed, I received more than one raised inquisitive eyebrow from nearby tables, but my gaze was all for the four men sitting at the back, stretched out comfortably on the wooden chairs as though they were recliners, a plate of hot chips in the middle being picked at by a couple, the remainder taking long pulls on their beers.
Adam, Koki, Brook and one man I hadn’t met yet but instantly identified. Captain Jason Cain, formerly of the New Zealand Army. My chosen task for the evening just took on an edge of danger it had previously failed to possess. Adam I was sure I could handle blindfolded. Koki and Brook were well trained but not up to my expertise. But Jason Cain was another matter altogether.
I’d seen him in action. I’d seen him take down six targets without breaking a sweat. The Department considered headhunting him at one stage, but by the time they were ready to make their move he’d shot and killed a civilian to save the life of his sister. He was discharged immediately from the Army. Honourably, but still. He’d made the papers. He was known to the public.
He was saved.
I rolled my head on my shoulders to quash that unsettling line of thought. Then pasted a smile on my face, grabbed a chair from a nearby table without asking, and swung it around to ASI’s corner, taking a seat. My Guinness came down on the table’s surface and a chip was in my mouth before any of them said a word.
“Boys,” I said around the chip. “Hope I’m not interrupting.”
“The new girl,” Adam said, with an impressive lack of shock at my sudden and uninvited appearance. “Did Carmel tell you we’d be here?”
The question was unexpected and surprisingly well chosen. I revised my estimation of Adam Savill in that spilt second, taking a moment to see him; the him he hides behind the leathers and wide smile and blond tousled hair. The hunter of ASI was hunting me and I wondered why I’d garnered that sort of attention in such a small amount of time.
Was everything in this God-forsaken city black?
But as easy as it is for a layperson to grasp a lifeline when handed it - it’s human instinct when being evasive to do so - they train that out of you in the Department. So I didn’t reach for the obvious, just grabbed another chip off the plate. Lies need to be truthful, otherwise they unravel. I wouldn’t have put it past any of these men to check with Carmel at ASI reception to see if I had been directed here by her.
Or they already knew Carmel wouldn’t point anyone she didn’t trust towards them.
At least, Adam did.
I shook my head and glanced around the room. “Tried a couple places before this, but you lot looked like you might be Irish pub goers. It fit.” I shrugged on the last. Relaxed on the outside and bizarrely agitated within.
A new sensation that felt too tight for my skin.
Brook laughed as expected. His easy-going attitude let him see the good in people too quickly. Koki and Jason just stared at me. Again, not a surprise, both were naturally cautious; Koki because of his upbringing; Cain because of how he’d been trained. Adam smiled. It was big and natural and lit up his eyes like a dawning blue sky. It was also his second thunderbolt of the evening.
And it hit its target with an accuracy that stunned.
I took a hasty sip of my Guinness and licked my lips afterwards, watching as his eyes darkened and then he looked away.
“You met all the guys?” he asked.
“Koki, Brook,” I said. Training having me answer steadily, belying any foreign sensations of turmoil within. I nodded my head to each man in turn. Then my eyes met Jason’s, and locked. Whiskey brown stared me down. Intelligent, assessing, not yet suspicious, but I could see them heading that way if given the chance.
“But not you,” I said with a soft enticing smile. Cain was living with his fiancee. The wedding was set to be the social event of the year. Katie Anscombe, Nick Anscombe’s sister, to be precise. Who happened to have killed a mob boss’s henchman with five SOG Fusion throwing knives. The sixth landed a slice to Declan King, but failed to bring the mob boss down. His henchman wasn’t so lucky. The pair, Cain and his woman, made a lethal team. They complemented each other.
There was no way in this black hell I’d walked into that he’d be interested in a come-on from me, but it was an avenue I had to explore. It would be remiss of me not to.
Adam cleared his throat, but I didn’t pull my gaze off Cain. Who just smiled, a slightly condescending smile, as though he’d taken my number and was dismissing me.
Most women would be put-out. I had to work not to show the triumph on my face. If he thought me a flirt and little else, all the better.
I might just have passed some sort of test.
“Jason Cain,” Adam said, interrupting our stare-off. “This is Charlie Downes. She just started with us.”
“I know who she is,” Jason said. Then to me he added, “We’re a family here, Charlie. Brothers and sisters the lot of us.”
Oh, is that right?
“Then Abi and Ben, and Eric and Amber, must make you all a little uncomfortable,” I quipped, causing Brook to spit out a mouthful of beer all over Koki, making the Asian man start growling obscenities back at him.
“Gross, my man,” Adam offered immediately, the distraction unplanned but miraculously timed to perfection. “Have some manners; a lady’s present.”
“Oh, don’t mind me,” I offered.
“I doubt Charlie’s
really
a lady,” Jason added. I shot him an arched look. He smirked in reply.
Yes, I’d passed a test, all right. I had to work not to assume it was the only one Captain Cain would give me.
“Hey,” Adam argued, strangely jumping to my defence. A gentleman and a hunter. I wondered which would prevail in regards to me.
I wondered which I wanted to win.
“That was funny,” Brook said, ignoring them both, and having gotten himself back under control. “But a little unsettling.”
“What, you never thought about how cosy those couples are?” Koki asked. “How convenient it must be for them. You of all people?”
“Whattya mean, me of all people?”
“Well, you know, horndog that you are,” Koki offered with a casual shrug.
“No more than you, fuck-knuckle.”
“I never said I wasn’t,” Koki shot back. “But at least I keep my private life private.”
“Ben and Eric don’t rub our noses in it,” Brook argued.
I sat back and watched the conversation unfold like a tennis match. Both Koki and Brook firing shots across an invisible net at the speed of a bullet. They were like an old married couple. I wondered if Nick Anscombe was aware of the familiarity they shared. Of the possibility for it to become distracting.
I shifted them from possible sub-targets requiring certain female skills, to ones I could use the old fashioned way. Their distraction could be ASI’s as well with a little effort on my part. Tonight being a prime example.
“Yeah, like we don’t know what Eric gets up to behind that locked control room door with Amber,” Koki drawled.
“Well, what we don’t see can’t hurt us,” Brook replied, picking up his beer and lifting it to his lips for a sip.
“I heard Ben and Abi talking about the men’s showers having no cameras,” I offered. “Something about washing chocolate sprinkles off without an audience.”
Brook snorted, then realised he’d taken a sip from his glass right then and beer foam was spewing out his nose. Mortification quickly followed amusement.
“You are so fucking gross,” Adam mumbled, cringing at the display across the table from him.
Jason started laughing, quickly followed by Koki, who seemed more amused at Brook’s plight than my slightly exaggerated story telling. My eyes flicked off all three men and landed on Adam, who was watching me, an unusual look on his face. I couldn’t decipher it, I could only sit there and breathe. I was seeing threats from all angles, but this was different. Uncomfortable. Scratchy. Disconcerting in a way a threat had never been.
The sound of Brook letting loose at Koki, joined by the odd encouraging - or shit stirring - word from Jason, was drowned out by the thunder of my heartbeat.
I hadn’t expected this. I wasn’t even sure what
this
was. But the only people distracted at the table right then was Adam and me, as we stared at each other, wordless communication shared in just one look. What we said, I didn’t know. But it was significant.
And unwanted.
I broke eye contact by taking a sip of my beer and returned my attention to the rest of the table.
“So, Charlie,” Jason said into the post stout foam spitting and snorting episodes. “How’s life outside the Navy treating you?”