Authors: Diane Henders
Tags: #thriller, #suspense, #mystery, #espionage, #canada, #science fiction, #technological, #hardboiled, #women sleuths, #spy stories, #calgary, #alberta, #diane henders, #never say spy
Richardson grabbed my
arm, his lips moving.
The syringe in his
hand looked enormous. A crystal-clear droplet clung to the tip of
the gleaming needle.
Still paralyzed, I
could only watch it slide into my arm.
The room faded, and
Richardson’s voice spoke from a great distance, deep and slow like
a record played at the wrong speed.
“N-o-t-h-i-n-g
p-e-r-r-s-s-s-o-n-n-a-a-l-l-l…”
I groaned and tried to
raise my pounding head. Pain pulsed through my skull in resonant
waves that matched my heartbeat. I managed a brief glimpse of
spinning whiteness before the whirlpool sucked me under again.
Several attempts
later, I managed to pry both eyes open and lift my head
simultaneously. My stiffened neck and shoulders protested fiercely,
and I groaned again. A hand slapped my cheek firmly.
With an effort, I
focused on the face hovering in front of me. The handsome features
with the dimpled chin and the thin scar slicing across the
cheekbone.
I recoiled with a cry
and began to struggle in earnest when I realized neither my hands
nor my feet would move.
Richardson slapped my
cheek again, just hard enough to sting. “Settle down. You’re not
going anywhere.”
I gasped a couple of
panicky breaths while I continued to jerk at my bonds.
“I said, settle down.”
Another brisk slap.
I held still and
panted, heart hammering while I snapped my head around, taking in
the details of my prison.
A featureless white
room. Small table with a laptop on it in the corner. My chair in
the middle. The chair Richardson had recently vacated was a few
feet away, with a small black canvas satchel beside it. His was a
standard rolling desk chair. Mine, not so much.
It looked and felt
like a dentist’s chair, but the sturdy leather restraints at the
arms and feet would have sent any dental patient screaming in
terror.
It was definitely
doing it for me.
I bit down hysteria
and regarded my white face and enormous eyes in the reflective
panel on the wall. One-way glass, obviously. Nothing like an
audience.
I hadn’t realized I
was crying until I saw my tears in the mirror.
“You didn’t have to
kill him.” My quavering voice barely broke the silence of the
room.
Richardson shrugged.
“I like a tidy site. No loose ends.”
I was pretty sure it
was hopeless, but I had to try. “Mark, why are you doing this? I
know there’s money in it for you, but think about the good people
you’re betraying.”
His lips curved in a
sardonic smile, activating the cute, elusive dimple in his cheek.
I’d thought it was adorable the first time I met him. Now it wasn’t
doing much for me. I fought down terror and rage.
“Good people like
you?” he asked. “How modest.”
I held my voice steady
with more success this time, the anger strengthening me. “Hell, no,
they were going to kill me anyway. People like Webb, Germain…” I
paused. Yes, he was a good person. “…Kane.”
“Whatever.” He leaned
close. “I’m doing you a favour. You know they’ll kill you if they
catch you. I’m offering you a new life. Working for Fuzzy Bunny has
its perks. You’ll get a luxurious place to live, piles of money,
anything you want. And all for a few hours of work a day.”
I shrugged. “Sounds
great, but I’m no use to you. I can’t access any networks without…”
I paused, not wanting to give away any classified information just
in case. “…help,” I finished.
“You mean this kind of
help?” He lifted the satchel onto the chair and extracted a small
object.
I tried to hide my
horror when he dangled the amethyst crystal in front of my
eyes.
They had another
network key.
He appraised my face,
smiling. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He placed the thin chain around
my neck and patted the amethyst into place between my breasts.
“There you go.”
I said nothing, and he
frowned. “You’re not going to go all goody-two-shoes on me now, are
you?”
My thoughts stampeded,
driven by panic. I had no hope of escape or rescue. I’d hidden my
tracks from Kane’s team too well, and there was nobody left to
contact them. Dave and Arnie both dead, my worst nightmare come
true…
I jerked my mind away
from the memory of Arnie’s slack, blood-covered face, all his
humour and keen intellect wiped away by the indifferent hand of
death.
“What’s the matter,
cat got your tongue?” Richardson asked. “Come on, Aydan, wise up.
Kane’s team will kill you at the drop of a hat. There’s nothing
there for you except an early grave. Work with me, and you can live
happily ever after.”
I managed to pry my
tongue loose from the roof of my mouth. “Except you’ve killed most
of my friends.” My voice was so hoarse I barely recognized it as my
own. “And except if I work with you, I’ll be helping you kill the
rest of them.”
Richardson snorted.
“Friends. Hardly. Stemp ordered your husband killed, Webb ratted
you out to the team, and Kane’s been ready to put a bullet in your
head ever since you ran. Hell, he was ready to shoot you last
summer. With friends like those, who needs enemies?”
He leaned close again
and gave me his attractive smile. “I’m the best friend you’ve got.
I saved your life.”
I blew out a long,
unsteady breath. This was where it was going to get ugly.
“Fuck you.” I trembled
in the chair, fighting to hide my fear.
He stepped back.
“Think this through, Aydan. You and I both know how this will end
if you don’t cooperate. You and I both know that nobody’s going to
miraculously rescue you this time.”
He crossed his arms
over his chest and leaned a shoulder against the wall, flashing his
dimple again. “You’re very resourceful. You caused no end of
consternation to a team of highly professional agents. Left
everybody standing there looking stupid. It would be terribly
disappointing to have to waste your talents.”
My heart hammered,
attempting to escape my body before it was too late. I swallowed
once, twice, trying to summon up enough saliva to speak. Deep
breath.
“Life’s full of
disappointments,” I growled. “Fuck you, and fuck Fuzzy Bunny up the
ass with a dead chicken. Twice.”
He sighed and heaved
himself away from the wall. “I was afraid you’d say that.” He
paused. “Well, not that, exactly. I have to admit, I wasn’t
expecting the dead chicken.” He dimpled again. “Come on, Aydan, be
a sport. Don’t make me get my hands dirty.”
I couldn’t trust my
voice to speak again, so I summoned up my best glare and sat as
still as I could. The entire chair vibrated with my tremors.
“All right.” He
reached into the satchel again. My heart stuttered to a halt at the
sight of the small butane torch in his hand. I had one just like it
in my kitchen. I used it to melt the sugar on my crème brulée. I
was afraid dessert wasn’t on his mind.
He clicked the button
and the clear blue flame whistled evilly. He eyed me seriously, no
sign of the dimple. “Aydan, the fun’s over. Let me make this really
clear. Just access the virtual network. It’s all set up. You have
the key. All you have to do is go in and decrypt a few files. You
can agree to do that now, and be amply rewarded.”
He leaned in, the
torch hissing spitefully in his hand. I couldn’t help straining
away from him despite my best attempt at bravado. I clenched my
teeth to stifle the whimpers that wanted to come out on each
shallow breath.
“Or,” he said softly,
“You can end up doing what I want anyway, after hours or days of
excruciating pain.” The torch moved a little closer. “Frankly, I
expect you’ll break in less than an hour. I’m very good at what I
do. But you may surprise me. Sometimes women are much tougher than
men.”
The flame approached
my arm slowly, and I froze in sheer terror. Heat mounted. I knew
the tip of the flame was invisible. It would burn me before I ever
saw it touch my skin.
“Stop!” My voice came
out in a shriek. “I’ll do it. I’ll go into the network now.”
Richardson patted my
cheek. “That’s my girl. I’ll monitor from here.” He rolled his
chair over to the small table while I gulped down hysterical
sobs.
He pressed a few keys
and eyed me levelly. “Oh, and I hope you’re not trying to bluff.”
He placed the laptop on his knees and rolled back over beside my
chair. The torch whispered its threat as he brought it within
inches of my arm again.
He smiled, his dimple
peeking out coyly before vanishing again. “Whenever you’re
ready.”
I bowed my head in
defeat. “What do you want me to do?” I quavered.
“Visualize the virtual
corridor. The files are in the first room on the left.”
I stepped into the
white void of virtual reality and put my hands to my head. “My head
hurts.”
Hold onto control now.
I concentrated with all my might. Don’t give them any warning. My
hands shook.
“Get on with it,”
Richardson snapped.
“Okay.” In the instant
between one heartbeat and the next, I materialized a gun, pressed
it against my temple, and pulled the trigger.
I’d thought a bullet
to the brain would be relatively painless.
I’d been wrong.
Agony tore through my
head. My body convulsed, jerking frantically in a useless attempt
to escape. The cool blue flame of the butane torch would have been
a welcome relief from the roiling white-hot lava that seared my
veins. My throat ripped under the lash of screams I felt rather
than heard. A nauseating vortex of colour sucked me down and I
tumbled like a rag doll, blind and sick, suffering unspeakable,
unending torment.
At last, the spinning
slowed and the colours faded.
The gut-churning smell
of burned flesh filled the air.
Comprehension arrived
with a hammer-blow of despair. He’d pulled me out of the network
before I died.
I’d failed.
“No.” My voice came
out a raw whimper.
I couldn’t open my
eyes, but I didn’t want to anyway. I could feel the burn sizzling
on my arm. I didn’t want to see the flame approaching. I didn’t
want to watch my skin bubble and blacken under its heat.
“No,” I repeated. My
body trembled helplessly, soaked in sweat.
I clenched my fists
and dove for the network again. They wouldn’t be able to stop me
every time.
I barely glimpsed the
void before hell’s volcano erupted inside my head and the agony
began anew.
Consciousness returned
abruptly, but I kept my eyes closed. Waves of pain coursed through
my body, and I held myself still and silent, trying to stifle
despair.
“I thought you said
she’d be awake by now.” A vaguely familiar male voice almost made
me betray myself with a start. I concentrated hard on my breathing,
trying to calm the sudden pounding of my pulse. Who had spoken?
Richardson? I wasn’t sure.
“I said she
might
be awake by now.” The second male voice was definitely
not anyone I knew. “When you drag in an unconscious body, you can’t
expect me to predict things down to the minute.”
“Why isn’t she
restrained in the chair?”
“We need her to
believe she’s safe, from the first instant she wakes up. If she
wakes up tied to the chair, she’ll never believe us.”
A pause.
“Very well. But this
is against my better judgement. Be on your guard. Don’t
underestimate her. If she feels threatened, she won’t hesitate to
kill.”
“What’s she going to
kill with? We have her clothes, so I know she doesn’t have any
concealed weapons. Besides, if she wakes up feeling safe, it won’t
be an issue. She’ll know she doesn’t have to fight. And anyway,”
the voice continued. “She’ll be weak and disoriented, and in
pain.”
Another pause.
“Don’t say I didn’t
warn you. Stay alert. Let me know as soon as she wakes up.”
“Right.”
The quiet click of a
door closing.
I took stock as best I
could with my eyes closed. I was lying on a soft surface,
apparently a bed. I could feel fabric touching me, so if they had
my clothes, I must be covered with a sheet. No restraints. That was
good. And now I had the element of surprise, and the knowledge that
they were going to try to mess with my mind.
I kept breathing
evenly, gathering my strength and trying to ignore the pain. The
burn on my arm was still stinging, but nothing else hurt as badly
as I’d expected. I must have passed out before they really got
going.
I counted the rapid
beats of my heart.
Nine hundred and
seventy-three beats later, I heard the quiet click of the door
again. This time, I eased my eyelids open the tiniest crack. Only
one blurry figure bent over me.
Now or never.
I grabbed my captor’s
wrist and yanked him toward me as I jerked up from the bed. My fist
smashed into his nose, and I followed up with a vicious knee to his
stomach. He doubled over, and I hit him as hard as I could at the
base of his skull with my two hands locked together.
Pain ripped through my
left hand as he fell, and an IV pole toppled to the floor with a
clatter. My legs felt like rubber when I staggered to my feet. A
wave of dizziness swamped me, the edges of my vision darkening. My
pulse pounded in my ears, painfully loud. In a couple of stumbling
steps, the dizziness began to abate and I was able to raise my
head. A hand closed around my ankle, blasting adrenaline through my
veins. I kicked free with a cry and fled.
I hadn’t even made it
to the doorway when a large black-clad figure blocked it. Nowhere
left to go.
I lowered my head and
charged with a berserk roar.
It was like tackling a
brick wall. Pain slammed through my shoulder into my neck and back.
I staggered. Hard arms crushed me. Screams tore from my throat
while I jerked and twisted frantically.