The Spy I Loved (23 page)

In the
bow, Jenkins stopped paddling and set her paddle carefully down
across the thwarts, just air and rubber, heaving slightly under
their body movements.

Picking
up the device, she extended and locked the telescopic carbon-fibre
legs. It was easy enough to operate. She’d practiced it fifteen
times in the bathroom with the lights off before she was
satisfied.

Hitting
the little thumb button, it began emitting its rays. She set the
thing down on the plywood, keeping her hands near in case it
toppled. It had three gyros, down low on each leg. They seemed to
be working, and she noted the ball-joint mounted head making small
adjustments as the boat rocked.

There was
a viewfinder for field use, looking for snipers and such, but even
from where she was sitting she caught the distinct flash of a hit.
She touched another button and the thing began another three
hundred and sixty degree sweep.

Both of
them laid flat backwards, keeping the heat of faces and hands from
flaring all over some invisible sensors, not seen but distinctly
felt. Sliding down as far as they could get, their necks were on
the stiffly resistant back cushions of the canoe seats. The boat
itself was sitting down so low in the water that the odds of an
enemy attack were hopefully pretty small.

Jenkins
hissed.

“
What?” They would let the machine go around a few times,
record the results, and paddle back.

Ian
Spencer was philosophical enough.

With GPS,
a map of the river and their data, they could cut down the search
time for police and military considerably. They could send a
message to the opposition, and hopefully, recover a few more of the
boat-launchers.

There
must have been a million stars out there.

If the
enemy launched a drone boat, they would surely hear it.

As for
what they might do about it, well. That was a very good
question.

“
I have to pee.”

Ian
snorted softly.

“
So—what’s stopping you?”

“
I have shy kidneys. Besides, this is a new suit.”

“
I promise not to peek.”

Jenkins
snorted.

A few
more minutes and they could go back in.

Chapter Sixteen

They had
dragged the dripping boat back up the bank, with Liam taking the
front end and Jenkins bringing her precious scanner and the
plywood. She was in the door first. She put the equipment on the
kitchen table and began stripping off as the men brought the boat
in.

The set
it down on the dining room floor. Their mission complete, the thing
to do was to change into street clothes, open the windows, open the
deflation valve, and then go outside. They could start a fire, have
a couple of drinks, put on a show, and then go back in when the CO2
had properly cleared.

The snap
of the door latch and the unmistakable sound of the bedroom door
opening came and all heads twisted to confront the threat. Jenkins,
on her way to the bathroom, stopped dead in her tracks.

Lindsey
stood in the doorway, dangling a master key on its
leash.

She
stared into the gun barrels and then her face, cold and furious,
came around to Mister Kimball.

She said
three words.

“
I knew it.”

Liam put
his gun up, and after a moment’s hesitation, so did the
others.

“
Mister Kimball. What in the
hell
—” She eyed the black boat and
the scanner on the table. “As you may recall from the fine print in
the rental contract, criminal activity is grounds for ejection from
The Pines.”

The look
on Kimball’s face was priceless, but she must be very careful not
to laugh, for the kid’s sake as much as Liam’s.

Jenkins
spoke first.

“
Perhaps you two would like a moment alone.” Jenkins was
desperately trying not to laugh.

Ian grimaced. Their number one priority was to upload their
data, and then to clear all evidence. It was a moot point
now
,
admittedly.

Liam
nodded.

“
Come on, Lindsey. You and I need to have a little talk.” He
glanced at Ian, who hustled over to the kitchen table as if he had
never paused in the first place.

Ears
burning, Ian Spencer wondered what the girl must be
thinking.

“
Yes, Mister Kimball. I should say we do.”

For a
moment nobody else moved, and then Liam put the gun away in its
shoulder holster under the bush shirt.

Jenkins
could not help but open her mouth, but then caught an angry look.
It faded quickly. Her bladder was demanding priority.

Chin
down, eyes glittering, Lindsey started walking.

Liam
opened the rear door and politely held it until she went past, head
up and shoulders back.

She was
clearly steaming inside and Liam had no idea of how to handle
this.

Jenkins’
eyebrows rose, hand hovering over the bathroom doorknob. Ian bit
his lip and kept his mouth shut.

“
Good luck, Liam.” Jenkins had a feeling Kimball was going to
need it with this one.

From one
woman to another, she was everything they said she was, and
more.

Probably a lot more.

They do make a cute couple, though.

***

They
walked, down the gravel road, past the store and the long, sloping
parking lot lined with trucks and boat trailers, mostly empty. A
vehicle was running and a man sat inside talking on the telephone.
At one time, such a device would be high-tech and top secret. Now
everyone had one and they were everywhere. What once might have
been suspicious was no innocence personified…maybe.

The totem
poles by the gate loomed up in the overhead lights and then they
walked out the gate. This was the best place for a personal
conversation. She was on his right and they were on the left side
of the road, when headlights appeared a half a mile up the
road.

Lindsey
looked up, grabbed his hand, and tugged him off to the right. She
carried a flashlight around at night as a professional habit,
something Liam hadn’t actually thought of although his was top of
the line and worth about two hundred dollars.

She
switched it on. Pointing it to the black line of bush ahead, an
even blacker hole in the foliage was revealed.

“
Where are we going?”

“
It’s not like you have a clue, Mister English Gentleman.” She
pulled harder and he stepped along, trying to keep up in spite of
roots, rocks and declivities underfoot, all dancing in the beam of
her torch.

The
branches high overhead seemed to reach down to take any warm,
breathing thing into an embrace. The tunnel widened and the ground,
the beaten path was a pale wavering line leading them
onwards.

There was
the quick brush of colder air. Sand and gravel crunched underfoot.
The shy was revealed in all of its glory. She clung to his hand and
they looked out over the lake.

“
Lindsey.”

“
Shut up.”

His mouth
closed and she turned to him.

She
stepped in close, tilting her head back.

“
I don’t give a rat’s ass who you are, Mister Liam
Kimball…
not his real name.”

“
Lindsey. Please.”

“
No.”

She
closed her eyes.

He
guessed he knew better; better than to utter a deep sigh at a
moment like this.

Taking
her in his arms, he brought her in close. He leaned down and kissed
her lightly on the forehead. He gave her another peck on the bridge
of the nose.

“
Grr.”

He
chuckled, pulling back. Her eyes opened.

“
You bastard.”

He
nodded.

“
Yes.”

There
were tears in her eyes, the stars overhead mocking her. She was
blinking rapidly, trembling in his arms from the chill and a kind
of spiritual and moral terror.

“
Please.”

Liam
Kimball stroked her hair.

“
No.” He pulled her in close and held her tightly.
“Lindsey.”

“
Don’t say it.”

But I must.

“
You’re a very beautiful young woman—”

“
And?” It was torn from her guts, leaving her empty and
desolate inside…

He pushed
her back. She stood there, hugging herself and shivering, face wet
with tears.

Liam
pulled out his wallet.

He opened
it up and took out a blue plastic identity card.

It was
real enough.

“
The light, Lindsey.”

She
sobbed. He reached out and gently lifted her hand, still holding
the light. He held the card in front of her and illuminated it for
her, although he doubted if she could see anything in that
state.

“
What—what is it?” She stared at the insignia.

“
There is absolutely nothing that I can safely tell you,
Lindsey. Not without endangering you, and others, and our work, and
most likely myself.”

Her mouth
was open in a round gaping hole. She finally looked away from the
card. Breath hissed as she took it in. She stared at him for a long
moment, bringing up the light and studying his face as he winced
and shielded his eyes.

He put
the card away, letting her arm drop. She switched off the
light.

“
I’m sorry.”

Oh, God, am I so sorry.

He pulled
her in close.

“
Don’t be sorry. It’s my fault. I’m sorry to…hurt you. Please.
You have to promise me that you’ll just keep this to yourself, all
right?”

Lindsey
nodded humbly, tears switched off. She was drained of all emotion
at that point.

“
Lindsey.” He hugged her, and gave her another kiss on the
forehead.

He lifted
her chin, gazing into her eyes.

Bending,
he gave her a dry kiss on the lips. One second—that was it, as she
blinked furiously, trying to figure it out. What did it
mean?

He was giving her unnecessary hope. It was a feeling, cruel
and manipulative, but what the hell was he supposed to do? She
needed something, she was asking for
something
he couldn’t give, no
matter how tempting that might be.

He could
get in a lot of hot water for that little kiss.

Don’t get involved. Never get involved.

He was
sure as shooting involved now.

“
Come on. I’ll take you home.”

There was
nothing left to say. They held hands. Gravel crunched as they
walked back, not speaking.

She
looked so beaten.

When they
got to the patio door, around the back where the girl and her uncle
lived, she dropped his hand. Lindsey opened the door without
looking at him and went in with a slump in her beautiful shoulders
that it hurt to see.

***

Curtis Wu
was Jenkins’ usual partner in crime as they often joked.

Jenkins
hung back. She and her inscrutable, slant-eyed side-kick (his own
description), had parked their vehicle and infiltrated. They had
covered a distance of six kilometres, across some of the hilliest,
swampiest, rockiest terrain either person had ever seen. They had
searched the hillside in a radius of fifty metres, finding none of
the disposable camera units in the area. That didn’t mean they
weren’t there, only that they hadn’t found any. It was decided to
continue with the task.

A total
of three launchers had been located. This one was their own special
little baby.

The
sniper’s ghillie suits were the best that money could buy. After
Spencer’s ambush experience, Jenkins had insisted on heavier
armament. She was carrying a Heckler and Koch UKP assault weapon.
Since he was carrying the load and doing all the work, as he said,
Curtis was content with his pistol and a half a dozen clips. Both
operatives carried a couple of fragmentation grenades for extra
defensive power. Smoke grenades and a knife rounded it
off.

Jenkins,
listening devices spread in a fan upslope and fifty metres out
along the shoreline, had their avenue of retreat and their flanks
to watch. Her earpieces buzzed with a cicada, myriad insects,
birds, and the sound of waves and wind. There didn’t seem to be
anything big out there.

Jenkins
spoke softly into her microphone.

“
Go.”

Curtis
lifted from his prone position, never taking his eyes off the
boat-launch device. At first glance, it was nothing more than a
half-submerged log at the water’s edge. This was one of several
that had been mapped by Jenkins and Spencer the night before. With
their data, they had been able to walk right to it. Search parties
had been tipped to destroy the rest in place but leave this one
alone. This was relatively smart. The demolition people were
waiting for word from here before proceeding.