How Spy I Am (19 page)

I quivered my way into
the noisy crush of the bar. I’d forgotten it was open jam night,
and the place was packed as usual. I was hovering unhappily at the
edge of the room when Eddy spotted me.

He waved and ducked
out from behind the bar to come over and clasp my hands between his
own. “Aydan, good to see you again,” he said. “Have I told you
lately how much I appreciate having you around to do my books?”

I gave him a laugh
that trembled slightly despite my best efforts. “Only every second
time I come here.”

His keen eyes
appraised me. “You’re shaking. Come and sit down.” He guided me to
my usual corner and approached the two men at the table with a
smile.

“Hey, guys,” he
greeted them. “I screwed up. I meant to put a reserved sign on this
table, and I forgot. I’ll pick up your tab tonight to make up for
your trouble if you don’t mind giving up the table.”

Their faces lit up.
“Sure, no problem,” one of them slurred, and I winced. It looked as
though their tab was already substantial, and they’d just gotten a
free ride for the rest of the night.

“Eddy, you don’t have
to…” I protested.

“I know, but I want
to.” He gestured me forward, and I took a seat gratefully while he
perched across from me. He jerked his chin in the direction of the
stage. “Hellhound still looks pretty rough, but he’s getting around
okay.”

“Yeah. It was such a
relief to find out the accident wasn’t as bad as I’d thought.”

“How’s your aunt?”

I dropped my gaze to
the table so I didn’t have to look him in the eye while I lied to
him. “She’s better. It was touch and go for a while, but they think
she’ll make a full recovery.”

“Good.” He reached
across to touch my hand, and when I looked up, he appraised me for
a moment as if deciding what to say. “How are you holding up with
that internet thing?” he asked at last.

I groaned and sank my
face into my hands. “Eddy, I don’t know if I can take this. All I
wanted was to move out to the country and live happily ever after,
and now my whole life is…”

I shut up before I
could whine any more. As far as Eddy knew, my biggest problem was a
case of mistaken identity. If only.

“Don’t worry, Aydan,”
Eddy reassured me. “Everybody knows it’s just a mixup. It’ll die
down and everything will be okay.”

“Thanks, Eddy.”

He patted my hand and
stood. “Sorry, I have to…” He gestured toward the busy bar.

“It’s okay.”

I slouched down in my
chair and divided my attention between watching the entrance and
the stage, where the usual suspects were setting up to jam.
Hellhound looked up from his guitar to give me a grin, and I let
the comforting familiarity soothe some of my nerves.

Just as the musicians
struck up the lead-in to their first set I spotted Smith in the
doorway, surveying the noisy crowd with his usual sour
expression.

The waitress paused to
place a glass of water in front of me. “Brought your usual. You
should be careful drinking this hard stuff,” she kidded.

“Yeah, thanks,
Darlene, I’ll go easy on it.” We exchanged a grin over our
customary joke. “Could you grab me some hot wings, too, please?” I
asked, and she nodded and hurried away to keep up with the demands
of the thirsty patrons.

Smith slid into the
chair opposite and leaned too close for comfort. “Have you heard
from him?”

“No. When did he talk
to you?” I demanded. “What the hell’s going on?”

Smith’s shoulders
slumped. “I haven’t talked to him. I hoped you had.”

“I thought he was
dead, for chrissake! The only reason I believe you at all is
because of Tiger Lily. How the hell did you know about that if you
haven’t been in touch with him?”

“I didn’t say I hadn’t
been in touch with him, I said I haven’t talked to him directly.
Let me know if he contacts you.” He started to rise.

“Not so fast.” I
grabbed his arm and suppressed an instinctive shudder when my mind
flashed to what was probably caked on that shirtsleeve. I yanked my
attention back to Smith. “Explain.”

He frowned. “If Robert
didn’t brief you, it was because he didn’t want you to know.”

“Of course he briefed
me,” I lied hurriedly. “I just need to know what’s going on from
your side.”

“You know everything
you need to know.”

Dammit!

I blurted out the
first thing that came to mind. “Fill me in, or I won’t tell you
even if he does contact me.”

“Don’t be stupid. You
know we’re all working together here,” Smith snapped. “And let go
of me. The bartender’s staring.”

I released him and sat
back in my chair. Eddy shot me a faint frown, his gaze flicking in
Smith’s direction, and I gave him a tiny headshake and a smile. His
face cleared, and he returned my smile before turning away to fill
more glasses.

I scowled at Smith.
“If you don’t brief me, right-fucking-now, I’ll…” I bit back the
threat of violence that had almost escaped. Be smart about this.
“I’ll take it directly to Stemp,” I finished.

I wouldn’t actually
risk Robert’s life by doing that, but if Smith had gone to this
much trouble to talk to me privately, I had a feeling he wouldn’t
want me to share.

I was right.

He dropped back into
his chair and jerked across the table toward me. “For God’s sake,
don’t even joke about that! Are you crazy?”

I gave him a
don’t-mess-with-me glare. “No. Desperate. Don’t push your
luck.”

He sat back slowly,
contemplating me with a frown. “You’re much different than I
expected. Robert always made it sound like you were some delicate
flower he had to protect.”

What the hell did he
mean, ‘always’? I crossed my arms and leaned back, trying for an
impassive expression. “Talk, Smith.”

He twitched his
shoulders irritably. “You might as well call me Kasper. I couldn’t
believe you were stupid enough to make that comment about my name
this spring. What were you thinking?”

Back then, I’d been
making an admittedly pathetic joke about how ‘John Smith’ sounded
like an alias. I hadn’t found out about the tongue-twisting ‘Kasper
Doytchevsky’ until later, but he didn’t need to know that.

I felt my way
cautiously. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“It was dangerous and
stupid,” he snapped.

I froze him with a
look at my watch. “I’m losing patience. Talk, or it’s all
over.”

“Fine.” He blew out a
breath through his nose. “The keep-alive signal was reactivated
Tuesday night. I started the communication carrier, but he must not
be in a secure location. I got no response.”

What… the… fuck was he
talking about?

I stared at him,
trying to formulate my next question. Or response. Or whatever it
was he wanted.

“Wh… When was your
last keep-alive?” I fumbled.

“Last October. Almost
a year ago to the day.” He shot me a significant glance. “A year
and a half after his official death.”

“Why wouldn’t he have
contacted me?” I mumbled, mostly to myself.

“I don’t know.
Something must have happened. One week after the keep-alive
stopped, I dropped the package as agreed. He should have taken you
right afterward. But then it resumed, so I waited for further
instructions.”

His mouth twisted as
though he’d bitten into a lemon. “And after we both put our lives
on the line for you, you show up right in the middle of Sirius
Dynamics. How could you be so stupid?”

“You can stop calling
me stupid now,” I snapped. “What did you expect me to do?”

He frowned at me for a
few moments before his expression inexplicably softened. “I suppose
you’re right,” he said. “You didn’t know me personally and you
believed he was dead. I was starting to wonder, too, to be
honest.”

My mind whirled in
utter confusion, and I didn’t dare ask any more questions that
would reveal my complete cluelessness. Maybe I could come at it
obliquely. I seized on the sympathetic shift in his demeanor.

“How long did you…
have you known Robert?” I asked.

His gaze focused on
the wall above my head, and a faint smile played on his lips.
“Nearly thirty years. We were both on our very first op when I was
assigned as his contact in Moscow. We nearly killed each other
through sheer inexperience. Stupid kids. We thought we were the
greatest spies in the world.”

I held my breath. When
he didn’t continue, I prompted cautiously. “But you became
friends?”

“Yes. It took many
years, many ops. But when you put your life in another’s hands
often enough…” He chuckled. “I suppose I really can’t blame you for
using my name. Robert used to find it tremendously amusing to refer
to me as Kasper the Friendly Ghost.”

I laughed. “That’s
Robert’s corny sense of humour.”

A gentle smile
transformed his face, his eyes still focused years in the past.
“Those were good years. Irina was alive then…” He trailed off.

Who the hell was
Irina?

“So…” I felt my way
forward with another open-ended question. “What made you
decide…?”

He snapped his gaze
back to look me in the eye. “I had Irina, Robert had you. He didn’t
know about the nights at first, but after Irina died I had to tell
him. That’s when we decided we had to save you.”

Christ, he still
wasn’t making any sense. “How did Irina die?” I asked gently.

He sank his head into
his hands. “She took her own life. The schizophrenia was getting
worse, but they kept pushing her. I couldn’t let Robert go through
what I’d suffered, so I told him the truth.”

He straightened, his
face twisting. “And now here you are,” he spat. “All that risk and
sacrifice for nothing.” He stood and gave me a cold stare. “Let me
know if he contacts you.”

I returned an
uncertain nod, and he pushed through the crowd to vanish out the
door.

I was staring into
space when Darlene slid the basket of wings in front of me.
“Thanks,” I muttered, my brain still fully engaged with Smith’s
revelations. Or obscurities, to be more accurate.

I mechanically began
to eat while I pondered.

Robert was alive. I
couldn’t believe it.

Well, yes, actually, I
guessed I had to believe it. I didn’t have much choice.

I could have sworn he
had no pulse or respiration when the ambulance arrived, but I
hadn’t exactly been at my best. If the ambulance attendants had
been spies, they could have revived him, faked the resuscitation
attempts, and let him escape. But they would have had to know about
Kane’s drug in order to give the correct antidote. Could they have
been double agents?

My mind boggled at the
sheer magnitude of the coverup. Ambulance attendants, emergency
room staff, medical examiner, crematorium staff, how many people
had been involved? And who were they working for?

And if Robert had been
loyal to the good guys then, who was he working for now? Had he
been a double agent all along?

And did that make
Smith a good guy or a bad guy?

Robert. My mind
circled back again, unable to leave it alone.

If he was still alive,
if he still loved me…

How could we go back
to what we’d had, after nearly three years apart? Would he be hurt
that I hadn’t remained faithful to him? But why the hell would I
wait? It was nearly three damn years. He’d made me believe he was
dead. Lied to me. Abandoned me.

And, dammit, I’d moved
on. I didn’t want to be married, to him or to anybody. Especially
not to a spy whose life was a web of lies and secrets.

I pitched a denuded
chicken bone into the basket. Eddy was watching me again, and I
rubbed the frown out of my forehead and dragged my attention back
to the stage.

The musicians were
winding up their set, and Hellhound beckoned the others into a
brief conference that was inaudible over the hum of conversation in
the bar. Then he perched on his stool again and pulled the
microphone close.

At the sound of the
lead-in, my heart sank. I’d always liked the Eagles, but I really
didn’t need to hear ‘Desperado’ right now. I pushed back my chair
to leave as Hellhound leaned into the mike to sing, but he held me
with his eyes and I sat helpless until he finished the song.

At last, the sound of
his guitar died away and his rough-edged voice sang the last word,
caressing the silence with so much tenderness I lurched to my feet
and stumbled blindly out of the bar.

I was leaning against
the wall staring at the parking lot when Hellhound came out and
ambled over to lounge against the wall beside me.

After a while, I
turned to face him. “Why did you sing that?”

“Thought ya needed to
hear it.”

I hid my irritation in
a noncommittal grunt. “Mm. Well, I’m going in. My chicken wings are
getting cold.”

He spoke as I heaved
myself away from the wall. “Aydan, just hang on a second.” I turned
reluctantly and he met my eyes. “Listen, I know ya love Kane but ya
don’t wanna take a chance on gettin’ hurt.”

“No, I just don’t want
to make all the compromises a relationship needs. I like being on
my own. Same as you.”

He shook his head. “It
ain’t the same. I got reasons-”

“Which you obviously
think are better than mine,” I interrupted.

“It’s different for
me,” he said.

When I planted my
fists on my hips and glared at him, he sighed. “Fine, ya wanna know
the truth? Ya know I like bein’ on my own. But even if I didn’t, my
cat’s the only fam’ly I’m ever gonna have. I ain’t gonna take a
chance on followin’ in the ol’ man’s footsteps.”

His raw honesty
wrenched my heart. “Oh, Arnie, you wouldn’t! You’d never hit your
family.” I wrapped my arms around him, wishing there was a way to
heal his unseen scars. His arms closed around me in return, and I
held him close before pulling back to meet his eyes. “You’re
nothing like your da- …old man.”