The Spy Is Cast (27 page)

I laid the
foil-wrapped potatoes on the grill and sat back to watch them.
Unfortunately, the firepit was on the same side as the neighbours.
I needed to turn the potatoes every few minutes, so I kept my back
to the men and ignored their drunken scrutiny as best I could.

About ten minutes
later I was turning the potatoes over again when the shorter man
hailed me from across the clearing. “Hey! Wanna come over and have
a beer?”

“No, thanks,” I
replied, trying to sound pleasant but dismissive.

“Stuck-up bitch.”

I didn’t bother to
respond to that. Instead, I went into the RV to get the steaks. I
took my time going back out, but the potatoes needed to be turned
again.

I carried the steaks
out with me and tended to the potatoes, then opened the packages of
steak and laid them out on a plate.

“Hey!”

I ignored him.

“Hey! How do you like
this meat?”

I made the mistake of
glancing up. He was exposing himself.

I snickered before I
could stop myself and looked away quickly, hoping he hadn’t seen my
smirk. I’ve never understood why guys do that. It just seems like
begging for ridicule.

“Hey! What’re you
laughing at?”

Now there was an
opening line if I’d ever heard one. Biting my tongue furiously to
avoid making the obvious insulting rejoinder, I kept my eyes on the
potatoes and tried not to snicker again.

I stiffened at the
sound of footsteps crashing through the undergrowth toward me.
Shit. This is why I hate public campgrounds.

Without looking up, I
stepped casually closer to the RV and the axe. These two likely
didn’t pose much of a threat, particularly since Kane was probably
just about finished his shower by now. He’d make short work of
them. But maybe a bit of assertiveness would convince them to give
it up without a confrontation.

I looked up and met
their eyes as the two men approached. “I didn’t ask you to join me.
Go back to your own campsite.”

“Come on, George,” the
taller man said. “Let’s go have another beer.”

George eyed me
blearily. His dick was still hanging out of his pants, apparently
forgotten. Nice.

“I wan’ you to come
an’ have a beer with me,” he repeated.

“No. I’m busy cooking.
Go away.” I reached over and turned the potatoes again.

His friend took him by
the arm. “Come on, George, buddy, let’s go,” he said, trying to
steer the smaller man back the way they’d come.

George jerked his arm
free and took an aggressive step toward me. “I gotta teach this
cunt some manners,” he slurred. “Hey, cunt, suck this.” He waved
his flaccid penis at me.

My temper flared. I
don’t like being threatened. And being called a cunt just spoils my
day.

“The only way I could
suck something that small would be if I had a pair of tweezers and
a magnifying glass,” I snarled. I picked up the axe and swung the
handle into my palm with a smack as I took a step toward him. “Now
fuck off. Or lose what little you’ve got.”

At the edge of my
hearing I had registered the rumble of an approaching engine, but
I’d been too focused on my unwelcome visitors to pay attention
until Hellhound rode into the campsite on his Harley.

He took in the scene
and came off his bike fast as the two men half-turned toward the
source of the noise. George’s buddy blanched.

I had always assumed
Hellhound’s nickname was just wordplay on his last name. I’d grown
accustomed to his gentleness toward me, and the more or less
constant twinkle of humour in his eyes. I’d forgotten exactly how
scary he’d looked the first time I’d met him.

I was suddenly
reminded. He was a fearsome sight, striding toward us in his
leathers. His ugly, scowling face was hard as granite as he shoved
his solid bulk between the two men and me. George blinked owlishly,
and a fine sheen of sweat appeared on the other man’s face as he
backed away slowly.

“What the fuck?”
Hellhound ground out, glowering dangerously at the two men.

“We were just
leaving,” the second man stammered. “My buddy was just joking
around, weren’t you, George?” George staggered uncertainly,
obviously trying to decide whether to back down or keep being a
moron.

Hellhound took a step
toward them, his shoulders swelling. “My ol’ lady ain’t
laughin’.”

George’s fists
clenched, and I could see he was about to do something truly
stupid. If this came to a fight, I was certain Hellhound would win.
And he’d likely end up getting arrested and convicted for assault.
I doubted the courts would be kind to a large, ugly biker who’d
beaten the crap out of some little drunk idiot. No matter how
richly the little drunk idiot deserved it.

I stepped quickly to
Hellhound’s side and clung to his arm. “Baby, don’t forget what
your parole officer said. If you kill two more guys, they’ll
declare you a dangerous offender. I don’t want you to go to jail
again.”

The taller man’s face
contorted with fear. He grabbed George by the arm and began to drag
him bodily away. George mouthed off a bit more and Hellhound took
another step closer, apparently oblivious to my grip.

He fixed the two men
in a basilisk glare. “Ya were just leavin’, weren’t ya. Leavin’ the
entire fuckin’ campground. For good. Weren’t ya.”

The taller man nodded
vigorously, his prominent Adam’s apple bobbing as he gulped. “Yeah,
we’ve gotta go. We’re going right now.” He finally managed to
dislodge George and haul him back to their campsite. They packed
their gear under Hellhound’s deadly gaze and gravel sprayed from
their tires as they sped away. I pulled out my phone and
dialled.

“Who ya callin’?”
Hellhound asked, still watching the receding half-ton.

“Drunk driving
hotline. Those two shouldn’t be on the road.” I gave the license
number and vehicle description to the officer on the other end of
the line, and then hung up. “I hope they catch them before they
hurt anybody.” I shuddered at the bad memories.

Hellhound’s face
softened and he smoothed the hair away from my face with a gentle
hand. “Ya okay, darlin’?”

I looked up into his
kind eyes. “I’m fine. You scared me, though. I was afraid you were
going to kick the shit out of them and end up in jail.”

“Nah.” He chuckled. “I
liked that bit about my parole officer, though.”

Kane came out of the
RV, freshly shaven and smelling of shampoo. “What’s this about a
parole officer?”

I leaned the axe up
against the trailer again and turned back to tend the potatoes. “We
had a small altercation with our neighbours. They decided to leave
when they discovered that Hellhound’s parole officer warned him not
to kill anybody else.” I laid the steaks on the grill. “How do you
like your steak?”

“Medium-rare,” Kane
said slowly. He frowned at the axe, and then at Hellhound and me.
“What kind of an altercation?”

“Arnie, what about
you?” I asked.

“Medium-rare for me,
too.”

“You guys are easy to
cook for.” I turned back to the fire.

“Helmand!” Kane rapped
out. “What happened!”

Hellhound straightened
to attention. “Just words, Cap. I rode in an’ I see these two
shitheads got Aydan backed up against the trailer. One’s got his
dick out, an’ she’s gettin’ ready to swing the axe. So I told ‘em
to move on.”

“He didn’t even say
anything threatening,” I added. “It was all legal.”

“All legal,” Kane
repeated incredulously. “Except for the part where two men sexually
assaulted you. Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. And it
wasn’t sexual assault. It was just words. He was just drunk and
stupid, and it was probably partly my fault…”

“It ain’t your fault,”
Hellhound grated. I glanced up at him and took a shocked step back
at the look on his face. “If a man can’t keep himself under
control, that’s his fault, not yours,” he growled. “Ya didn’t do
anythin’ wrong.”

“No, I didn’t mean
that,” I agreed quickly. “What I meant was, I aggravated the
situation because I lost my temper and insulted him.” I turned away
to flip the steaks and potatoes.

“Aydan, tell me
exactly what happened.”

Unlike Hellhound, I
hadn’t spent twenty or so years in the army but the commanding tone
of Kane’s voice was almost enough to make me snap to attention,
too.

“I was over here
cooking and he called over and asked me to join him for a beer. I
said no thanks, and he called me a stuck-up bitch. I ignored him,
but he kept yelling over, and the next time I looked up, he was
waving his dick. I made my first mistake then, because I
laughed.”

“You laughed.”

“Well, yeah. He was
just this stupid little drunk shit. And it was such a dumb thing to
do. I mean, really, what did he think I was going to do?”

“He thought he’d
intimidate you,” Kane said grimly.

I snorted. “Not.
Anyway, he got mad because I’d laughed, and that’s when he came
over.”

“Why didn’t you call
me?” Kane admonished.

“I would have, if I
thought there was any real danger,” I assured him. “But his buddy
was trying to get him to back off, and he was so wasted I could
have knocked him down with a good slap.”

“Go on,” Kane said
expressionlessly.

“Well, that’s when
things got a little out of hand,” I admitted reluctantly. “He said
some things, and I got mad.”

“What things,
exactly?”

“He called me a cunt.
Said he was going to teach me a lesson. And told me to suck his
cock.” I looked up at their frowns. “Just for the record, if you
ever want to really piss me off, now you know what to say.”

“So you got mad. Then
what?”

“I made a crack about
his tiny dick and told him to fuck off.” I studied the ground
intently. “And I kind of threatened him with the axe, a little
bit,” I mumbled. “That’s when Arnie showed up.”

Kane sighed. I chanced
a glance up at him as he massaged his forehead. “Sorry,” I added.
“I wouldn’t have really hit him with the axe. Well, maybe with the
blunt end…” I shut up before I could dig myself in any deeper.

“You should report
this,” Kane said.

“Under the
circumstances, I’m inclined to just let it go. I threatened him
with a weapon. Arnie as much as forced them to drive drunk. And I
called them in to the impaired driver hotline. And if I have to go
in and report the whole thing, we’ll lose even more time that I
could be using to look through the database.”

Kane’s fist clenched
as he thought it over. “All right,” he agreed finally. “I hate to
say it, but you’re right, we have bigger fish to fry.”

“And steaks.” I
snagged the sizzling steaks and potatoes off the grill. “Let’s
eat.”

After we cleared away
the dishes, I glanced at Hellhound’s exhausted face. “I’ll take the
laptop outside so you can sleep.”

I set up the laptop on
the picnic table and settled in with a sigh, concentrating my
efforts on the captive I’d seen in the morning. Spider’s database
was far superior to anything I’d used before, and I quickly
finished entering all the parameters, feeling optimistic.

My high hopes were
gratified only about ten minutes later when the database disgorged
a shortlist of seven men. I sprang up and trotted to the RV
carrying the laptop. When I stuck my head in the door, Kane and
Hellhound looked up from the site plan they were discussing, and
Kane broke into a smile at the sight of my face.

“You found something,”
he prompted.

“Yes, the man I saw
this morning in the sim. His name is Richard Willis. He was easy to
find because he has the funny little scar up by his hairline.” I
passed Kane the laptop.

“Excellent.” He pulled
out his phone and punched a speed dial button. “Listen, Webb, Aydan
got a hit from the database. We’ll send it to you via the uplink.
Can you run it? All known associates, the usual. Thanks.” He
carried the laptop over to the counter and hooked it up, punched a
few keys, and waited. A few seconds later, he disconnected it and
handed it back.

“Good work,” he said.
“Now if we can find the others, we’ll be making some progress.”

Feeling slightly
deflated, I returned to my seat at the picnic table and started
scrolling data again. A few minutes later, I was so engrossed that
the slam of the RV door made me jump.

Kane ambled over and
sat backward on the bench beside me, stretching his legs out and
leaning his elbows on the table behind him.

“How’s it going?” he
asked.

“Fine. Slow.”

He paused and frowned
before speaking as if carefully choosing his words. “Aydan, about
what happened here tonight. I know you’re used to taking care of
yourself, and everything worked out all right this time. But as
long as you’re on this mission, I need you to be more careful.”

He met my eyes
seriously. “You should have called me right away. You’re a key
component of this operation. If anything happens to you, we’re dead
in the water.”

I made a face. “He was
just a stupid little drunk flasher.”

“And if that stupid
little drunk had pulled a weapon, then what? Last night, you got on
my case for taking unnecessary risks. Now it’s my turn to tell you
the same thing.”

I scowled at the
laptop. “Okay. Fine. I’ll try to be as helpless as possible.”

“You know that’s not
what I meant.”

I sighed. “I know.
Sorry. I’m just tired. And I get edgy when I miss my workouts.”

“It’s all right.
Thanks for putting your life on hold for this.” He rose. “I want to
take the first watch tonight, so I’m going to go and get a nap,
too. Sit in the chair next to the RV. And thump on the trailer if
even a squirrel gives you attitude.”

“Roger that.” I
obediently carried the laptop over to the chair beside the trailer
as he went inside, and returned to the tedious task of looking
through the database manually.