How Spy I Am
Authors: Diane Henders
Tags: #thriller, #suspense, #espionage, #science fiction, #canadian, #technological, #hardboiled, #women sleuths, #calgary
Book 5 of the NEVER SAY
SPY series
By Diane Henders
Published August 2012
by PEBKAC Publishing
Smashwords Edition
v.5
ISBN
978-0-9878712-7-5
The town of Silverside
and all secret technologies are products of my imagination. If I’m
abducted by grim-faced men wearing dark glasses, or if I die in an
unexplained fiery car crash, you’ll know I accidentally came a
little too close to the truth.
This is a work of
fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed
in this novel are products of my imagination or are used
fictitiously. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is entirely
coincidental.
Please respect my hard
work by complying with copyright laws. This e-book is licensed for
your personal enjoyment only. You may not resell this e-book under
any circumstances.
Thank you for
reading!
Copyright © 2012 Diane
Henders
All rights reserved,
including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in
any form.
SPY series:
Book 1: Never Say
Spy
Book 2: The Spy Is
Cast
Book 3: Reach For The
Spy
Book 4: Tell Me No
Spies
Book 5: How Spy I
Am
Book 6: A Spy For A
Spy
Book 7: Spy, Spy
Away
Book 8: Spy Now, Pay
Later
Book 9: Spy High
Book 10: Spy Away
Home
More books coming! For
a current list, please visit
www.dianehenders.com
Or sign up for my New
Book Notification list at
For Phill
Thank you for being my
technical advisor and the most tolerant husband ever. Much
love!
To my beta
readers/editors, especially Carol H., Judy B., and Phill B., with
gratitude:
Many thanks for all your time and effort in catching
my spelling and grammar errors, telling me when I screwed up the
plot or the characters’ motivations, and generally keeping me
honest.
To Rick and Sandy H.
at Hand Crafted Images:
Your talent makes my covers
extra-special, and your sense of humour makes photo sessions fun
even for a camera-hater like me. Thank you!
To Steve A. and the
staff at The Shooting Edge:
Thank you for lending us your
excellent facilities for our cover photo sessions. You guys
rock!
To everyone else,
respectfully:
If you find any
typographical errors in this book, please send an email to
[email protected]
.
Mistakes drive me nuts, and I’m sorry if any slipped through.
Please let me know what the error is, and on which page (or at
which position in e-versions). I’ll make sure it gets fixed as soon
as possible. Thanks!
Contents
“We need to do damage
control.”
I suppressed an
exhausted yawn along with my urge to say, ‘No shit, Sherlock’, and
eyed the civilian director of clandestine operations with
distaste.
Charles Stemp returned
his usual impassive stare from across the table, and I let my gaze
slide off his reptilian features to the much more rewarding sight
of John Kane beside him.
Stemp’s flat voice
continued, “Fuzzy Bunny came too close to capturing you this week.
That would have been disastrous to our national security, not to
mention to you personally.”
“Wouldn’t have been
much worse than being captured by you,” I snapped before I could
stop myself.
Stemp met my eyes
levelly. “We needed you to believe you were in enemy hands. And I
don’t need to remind you that Fuzzy Bunny will not stop at a small
burn to force your cooperation if they capture you.”
I swallowed the sudden
dryness in my throat and willed myself not to hug my bandaged arm.
Hell, no, he didn’t need to remind me. The only thing cuddly about
Fuzzy Bunny was their name.
God, what if they were
hunting me again? My gaze flicked toward the doorway despite the
knowledge that we were in a secured building.
Jeez, woman,
relax.
I drew a deep breath
and attempted to follow my own advice. I was safe. Kane was
probably Canada’s most lethal weapon, and after our conversation
yesterday, I was pretty sure he’d protect me with his life. My mind
sidled away from the memory of his lips framing the words ‘I love
you’. I’d spent half the night worrying about that.
Deal with it
later.
Stemp’s voice dragged
my tired brain back from its rambling. “We need to convince them
you are dead. And Kane informs me your cover here in Silverside is
not as,” he hesitated. “…Robust,” he said finally, “…as we would
prefer.”
I met Kane’s steady
grey eyes, wondering exactly what he’d reported. My gaze strayed
lower without my permission to admire the massive chest and bulging
biceps straining his black T-shirt. Lethal and unbelievably hot,
goddammit…
“Aydan?”
“Ms. Kelly?”
Kane and Stemp both
spoke my name, and I herded my mind back to the meeting table yet
again. “Sorry, what?” I asked, massaging the ache in my
forehead.
“Do you have any ideas
to contribute regarding your cover identity?” Stemp repeated.
I forced myself to
appreciate his attempt to include me in the process. “Not at the
moment, I’m sorry.” I didn’t bother to add, ‘I’ve been a little
busy trying to stay alive lately’.
“It’s all right,” Kane
said. “We can work on it today.”
I shot him a grateful
look.
Stemp rose. “Very
well. Have a proposal ready by end of day.” He fixed me with his
expressionless gaze. “Please check the network first thing for any
chatter regarding yourself. Our analysts haven’t picked anything up
from the public channels, so you’ll need to breach Fuzzy Bunny’s
firewalls and check their systems directly.”
He strode out, and I
sighed and sank my forehead onto the table, cushioned by my crossed
forearms. I grunted and quickly repositioned my arms at the jab of
pain.
“Are you all right?”
Kane’s velvet baritone was quick with concern.
“Fine. I just bumped
that burn,” I mumbled into the table. I hadn’t even heard him
stand, and his touch startled me. “It’s fine,” I repeated, but he
was already lifting the dressing away from my arm, his powerful
hands deft and gentle.
We both contemplated
the angry-looking wound. “I thought Stemp said it was just a small
second-degree burn,” Kane growled.
I shrugged and
retrieved the bandage from him, smoothing it back down onto my
skin. “Richardson panicked. I guess he held the torch on me a
little longer than he meant to. It’ll be fine.”
“Aydan, I’m so sorry
you had to go through that. I know it doesn’t make it any less
traumatic to know it was faked.” His face darkened. “Except for
that burn.”
“You’ve got nothing to
apologize for.” I stood and drifted toward the door. “Stemp, on the
other hand, owes me a buttload of apologies, which I’m highly
unlikely to get. Let’s go.”
Slouched on the small
sofa in my office a few minutes later, I scowled at the tiny piece
of circuitry in my hand. Why the hell did it only work for me? And
why the hell hadn’t its unknown inventors created something that
wouldn’t drive flaming spikes through my brain every time I used
it?
I drew a shallow
breath through my mouth.
“Are you okay?” Clyde
Webb’s voice made me concentrate on putting a more pleasant
expression on my face. It wasn’t difficult when I looked up to see
the concern on his youthful face.
“Fine, Spider,
thanks.” I flicked my gaze in John Smith’s direction, and Spider’s
expression cleared in comprehension.
I had hoped to work
with Kane and Spider as usual today, but apparently Smith had
orders to attend as well. I took another shallow breath, trying not
to inhale his stench. Somebody really should tell him to change his
shirt more than once a month. You’d think he’d get the hint when
its pattern of food stains started to resemble a particularly
creative Jackson Pollock canvas.
I shook off my mood
with a sigh and waited for Kane to pull up a chair before eyeing my
team. “Everybody ready?”
Spider nodded, his
fingers already flying over his laptop keyboard. Smith concentrated
on the desktop computer, and Kane gave me a nod and a smile,
fingering the fob that would give him painless access to the
brainwave-driven simulation network.
Painless. Huh. I
wish.
I banished my
self-pity with another sigh and gripped the network key,
concentrating on stepping into the white void of virtual reality. A
second later, Kane’s avatar popped into existence beside me.
The network was a busy
place. Kane stepped protectively in front of me when a couple of
researchers’ avatars approached in the virtual corridor. They
exchanged wary glances and gave us a wide berth.
I patted Kane’s hard
shoulder. “Don’t scare the locals. I’m pretty sure we’re safe
here.”
“I’m not taking any
chances,” he rumbled.
I smiled up at him.
“Thanks.”
His strong square face
softened into an answering smile, activating the sexy laugh lines
around his eyes, and we made our way to the virtual file repository
in comfortable silence.
Inside, I surveyed the
towering stack of virtual files with dismay. “Shit, they really
piled up.”
Guilt prodded me. If I
hadn’t run off last week…
I tamped it down. Too
late to be sorry, just fix the problem. “Have the analysts flagged
anything in particular?” I asked.
“Nothing that’s a
higher priority than hiding your identity,” Kane said. “You need to
check Fuzzy Bunny’s network first. You can worry about these other
files later.”
“Okay. This will
probably take a while.” I created a virtual chair in the sim and
sank into it, and Kane pulled one out of thin air beside me,
reaching toward me as he sat.
I took his extended
hand and gave it a little squeeze. “Thanks for being my anchor.” I
glimpsed his smile one more time as I faded into invisibility to
seep into the data stream, feeling my consciousness stretch from
his grip like a rubber band.
Hitching a ride on
data packets, I shot through a roller-coaster of connections,
following the delicate tracery of markers I’d left behind in my
earlier surveillance. When I reached Fuzzy Bunny’s first firewall,
I paused for a deep virtual breath before trickling through the
pinhole I’d left open in my previous visit. Their
intrusion-detection software passed harmlessly over me, and I
continued my stealthy progress, nosing around invisibly in their
file system.
