SPY: His Mission. His Orders. His Promise. Page 6

  "I'm still a bit shell-shocked by all this, especially our great escape."

  "Understandably."

  "Where do we go from here?"

  "Good question. I'll be leaving shortly to meet up with Leo. Now that you're safe we need to compare notes and discuss our next moves."

  "Aren't you worried about your car being spotted? It doesn't exactly blend in."

  "I won't be in the car. I'll be on a bike."

  "A motorbike?"

  "I'm not going to peddle out of here!"

  "What kind?"

  "There are two, and they're both Harley's."

  "Cool. Do they have special equipment like your car?"

  "Of course."

  "Maybe I could come. No-one would recognize me in a helmet."

  "No, sorry, you can't meet Leo."

  "Couldn't you leave me somewhere while you talk to him? I could wait for you."

  "Where? On the side of the road?"

  "I could grab a cup of coffee."

  "In a helmet! How would that work exactly?"

  "I see what you mean."

  "Sorry, not this time, but I promise I'll take you out for a ride at some point. Maybe we could pack some lunch and head off to an isolated spot."

  "That sounds great. I'm a pretty decent rider myself, you know!"

  "Will wonders never cease!"

  "I dated a bad boy in college."

  "That doesn't surprise me."

  "And now I'm with another one."

  "Me? A bad boy? Hardly. I'm public-school educated, or did you forget?"

  "You're also a rogue spy who works for some secret agency. I don't think it gets much badder. Besides, you have a tattoo now. That qualifies you for bad boy status."

  "It does?"

  "I'm sure you're equally at home in a bowler hat and a three-piece suit with a carnation in the button-hole, but that's not who you are inside."

  "This is true, and the first chance I get," he said, lowering his voice, "you'll be reminded just how bad I can be."

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Oliver looked like any other biker as he rode his powerful Harley towards the Red Rocks Conservation area. Rolling past the visitor center he continued on, then turning off the main road he spotted Leo's bike a short distance ahead. Pulling to a stop next to it, he climbed off and started towards their meeting place. They'd chosen a grouping of rocks relatively close to the road. It allowed them to watch their motorcycles and any approaching hikers. Removing his helmet as he neared his partner, Oliver stared up at the sky. Infinite blue and a merciless sun. A far cry from a drizzly day in London.

  "I hope I didn't give you a heart attack last night," Leo said as Oliver neared. "I'm not allowed to carry my personal phone on duty and it has to sit in my locker. I don't trust it now."

  "Just be glad I didn't shoot you," Oliver chuckled. "I assume you picked the pedestrian gate lock."

  "No, I just climbed over the fence."

  "It doesn't look climbable."

  "I'm a monkey. I can climb anything."

  "Good to know. Wouldn't it have been easier to buy a burner phone?"

  "Maybe, but I was in the mood for some practice."

  "Apparently you didn't need it, and now I'm going to run a check on the alarms. You should have set something off."

  "You forgot to submerge the path to the front door."

  "Bloody hell. I can't believe it."

  "You were distracted, and speaking of distractions, how is she?"

  "Remarkable considering she's been under Pichenko's thumb," he said casually, though he couldn't prevent a devilish grin curling the edges of his lips. "But tell me the news? Why are you so sure the artifact in the lobby is the real thing?"

  "I'm serving drinks in the bar right across from the area where it's set up, and when I first started working there its sheen caught my eye."

  "Sheen?"

  "Yeah. It wasn't shiny like polished gold, but it had a kind of satiny finish. It reminded me of eggshell paint. There are lights around the base, like landscape lights, and it was obvious. Yesterday morning it looked different. I didn't know why until I passed it again on my lunch break. It wasn't shiny, not at all. Then I noticed the roped-off area had been extended and there were extra security guards around the lobby."

  "Interesting. If you're right we just got lucky. We might be able to keep track of it."

  "Lady Luck is always welcome in my bed," Leo declared, "but how can we find out if I am?"

  "Natalie. She said all she needs is a high-resolution photograph."

  "No sweat. I can get that right away."

  "Have you heard anything more about the crate?"

  "That's the next thing I was going to tell you. I overheard a couple of the security guys talking late last night. Very soon something is being moved from the hotel with serious VIP treatment."

  "Opportunity is knocking, Leo. If we can convince our fellow treasure hunters the artifact is in the crate being shipped out, they'll leave to follow it and our job will be whole lot easier."

  "My thoughts exactly. I'm convinced it was Pichenko who started the rumor, and I've already given it a boost."

  "How?"

  "After my shifted ended last night, I saw one of the CIA guys at the blackjack tables. I waited until a cocktail waitress I knew was hovering close to him, then I wandered over and mentioned I might be picking up some extra dough. When she asked me how, I told her I might be helping security watch over a crate from the exhibition that was being moved, then I asked her if she'd like to help me spend the cash."

  "And she said?"

  "What do you think?" Leo chuckled.

  "I think you're going to get lucky."

  "Yep, but the point is I said it real low, like it was a secret. He heard it for sure. He cashed in his chips and left a couple of minutes later."

  "That's great, but if the artifact is in the lobby," Oliver said thoughtfully, "I don't fancy trying to lift it with Joe Public around. There's too much civilian risk."

  "I was just about to say how impossible it would be."

  "I'm getting an idea. It will take some help from Lady Luck but I'm feeling she's on our side. It starts with creating a reason for Pichenko to move it out of the lobby. Once we do that, this is the next step."

  As Oliver detailed his plan, Leo listened, pointed out some flaws and made some suggestions, then slapped Oliver on the back.

  "You are one smart Brit! You're right about needing luck, but don't we always? Damn, Oliver, that's clever."

  "It'll be clever if it works," Oliver remarked, "otherwise it'll go down in history as completely daft."

  "Daft. That's such a great word."

  "Let's hope it won't be used to describe me after this is all over."

  "Us," Leo corrected him. "I'll be sharing the credit or the blame."

  "It's just an idea. Until we have confirmation the statue on that pedestal is the relic that's all it is. Get me that photograph, and will do you me a favor?"

  "Sure."

  "Pick yourself up a burner phone and call me next time you need me."

  "Yeah, of course. I need one. Here's my regular phone," he said, handing Oliver his smartphone. "Run it through the security check for me and see if it's been tampered with."

  "Sure thing."

  "I almost forgot. Here's something else you might need," Leo said, handing him a small white envelope. "It's good for a week, but I can always renew it."

  "Is this what I think it is?"

  "I don't know. What's that?" Leo grinned.

  "This could come in very handy. Thanks."

  "I'll get in touch as soon as I buy the burner."

  "I hope your motel isn't too shabby."

  "It's nice walking in the door and not having to crawl out the bathroom window to zip over to the house, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss the comforts of home."

  "I don't blame you. I guess that's everything. Watch your back, Leo."

  "You too, and remember you have a
distraction living under your roof. Double-check everything and stay focused."

  As they walked down to their bikes, donned their helmets and started off, Leo's wise words echoed through Oliver's head. He was right. Natalie was a distraction. A big one.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Before Oliver had left he'd walked Natalie through the many hi-tech gadgets the house had to offer, and explained how to get out in an emergency, but as he'd ridden off she'd had second thoughts about verifying the artifact from a photograph. What if she got it wrong? The only way to know for sure was to view it in person. Standing in the garage, the second Harley with the helmet sitting on the seat became a temptation too strong to resist.

  Would Oliver be furious? She had no doubt about that, but there was no other way to verify the relic other than actually seeing it. Victor would never think her brave enough to return, and wearing the helmet she'd be completely anonymous.

  Running back into the house she'd pulled on the Levis Oliver had bought her, a simple white T-shirt, and the woman's leather jacket she'd spotted hanging at the back of the closet. All she needed was an excuse to walk into the hotel lobby wearing a helmet, and she'd had an inspiration. She could pretend to be a messenger. Ferreting through the desk in the den she'd found a notepad. Scribbling a few words to Andy, she'd folded the paper, placed it inside an envelope, and written his name and suite number on the front.

  It had seemed a brilliant idea while she'd been preparing, and even when she was riding the powerful bike through the ritzy neighborhood. Heading towards the strip she'd been filled with confidence and had studied the extra buttons on the handlebars, but as she climbed off and walked towards the entrance of the hotel, every nerve in her body was firing. Approaching the glass doors she kept telling herself she was unrecognizable, and striding past the doorman she moved to the reception desk and handed the envelope to the pert young woman behind the counter.

  "Don't you need to me to sign something?"

  Natalie's heart skipped. To speak she'd have to lift the shield covering her face. Controlling her panic she pretended she hadn't heard the question and walked briskly away. To her great relief the girl didn't call after her, and as she neared the roped off display she was grateful to see a large group of tourists. Sliding into their midst she knew immediately the artifact wasn't the resin fake she'd unpacked, and heart thumping she stared at the priceless antiquity.

  It was the epitome of the phrase, hidden in plain sight. It was then she realized the roped off area had been expanded, putting it out of reach, and a moment later she noticed other changes. An overhead spotlight was bathing the relic in a bright white light, and it was sitting on a black cloth covering the top of the pedestal. Lowering her gaze she scrutinized the stand. It was not the base upon which she'd placed the resin replica.

  The changes would be related to the artifact's security, and she couldn't imagine how Oliver could possibly steal it. Wishing she didn't have to deliver the bad news, as she turned around to leave, the couple next to her began taking photographs. Cursing herself for not having thought of it herself, she pulled out the phone Oliver had given her, and sticking close to the excited couple she took close-up pictures of the floor, the pedestal, and the relic, then stepping back she snapped several more shots from a distance.

  "What are you doing here?"

  Though muffled by her helmet Victor's voice was instantly distinguishable, and the chilly hand of terror wrapped around her heart.

  "How could I miss such an important exhibition?" she heard another male voice reply. "It's good to see you, my friend. How long has it been?"

  "Too long. You must come to my suite for a drink."

  "I will, but first, let me look at this display."

  Fighting the trembles that were rippling through her body, she dropped the phone back into her pocket. She could hear Victor and his visitor walking up behind her, but her legs were refusing to move. In seconds he'd be standing right next to her.

  Lady Luck.

  She can stand at your side and breathe her blessing, or cast a dark shadow that blocks your path.

  Natalie was jostled.

  The couple had bumped into her.

  It was a bump she knew she'd remember for the remainder of her days. Broken out of her petrified state, as the happy pair moved away she did too, walking beside them as they passed the doorman and outside to safety.

  But Victor hadn't been fooled.

  He'd caught the scent of her unique perfume, and as she'd moved away he'd recognized her body and her walk. Amazed by her nerve and furious that he'd been right next to her and hadn't grabbed her while he'd had the chance, he'd immediately sent Sergei in pursuit.

  Though she was confident she'd pulled off the risky visit she kept checking her side mirrors, and when she saw the black sedan closing in she knew it immediately. Panic-stricken and heart pounding she forced herself to think.

  She had to lose them.

  The strip was busy, and focusing on her goal she maneuvered the bike through the traffic, but once she was in the clear she could see the car was still with her. Turning off the main road she tried to give them the slip, but no matter how many streets she turned down, or fast she accelerated, the car stayed with her. Whoever was driving would be calling in their location, and she was sure any minute there'd be a car blocking her path. She was running out of time. Glancing down at the buttons she decided to try the one with an icon that showed a skidding car.

  Hoping she'd guessed right, holding her breath and fervently praying, she pushed it, then hastily looked over her shoulder. A spray of liquid was shooting out from the storage compartment. Slowing down, with her heart in her mouth, she watched the car hit the wet spot. It fishtailed several times before crashing into a tree.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  A little while later, rolling his Harley into the garage, Oliver's keen powers of observation instantly noticed the second bike had been used. It wasn't in line with the wall, and the helmet was crooked on the seat. The engine was hot, and he spied the tiny red light above the skid option button. It needed to be refilled.

  Natalie had been a very bad girl.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  As Oliver walked in the house he detected the welcome aroma of freshly brewed coffee, and entering the kitchen he found Natalie wearing a pair of painted on jeans and a shirt knotted at the waist. Her bare midriff looked incredibly sexy, and as he approached she jerked her head around and smiled.

  "You should be a cat burglar. I didn't hear you come in."

  "I am a cat burglar."

  "I thought you were a spy."

  "I'm that too," he said with a wry grin as he took hold of her naked waist and lifted her off her feet.

  "What are you doing?"

  "Sitting you on the kitchen island," he declared, plonking her down, then resting his hands on the granite slab either side of her he added, "We're going to have a chat."

  "I just made some fresh coffee."

  "I know, I can smell it. I'm going to have some, but while I'm pouring it into the mug and adding the cream and sugar, do you know what you're going to do?"

  "Uh…"

  "You're going to tell me why you took the bike out and where you went. You will be punished, but the severity of that punishment with be predicated upon your justification."

  Natalie felt her face flame red and her butterflies burst to life, and as he lightly kissed her and moved away her mind began to race. The Harley must have been out of place, or perhaps the helmet. She'd thought she'd left it just as she'd found it but obviously she'd been wrong. She'd wanted to broach the subject of what she'd done cautiously, perhaps showing him the photographs first. They were such a wealth of important information it might have mitigated the fallout.

  "Mmm, this coffee is great," he remarked, turning around to face her. "Let's start with where you went."

  He was standing straight and tall, and though his eyes were slightly narrowed she saw no anger.

 
"When I tell you please don't get mad," she began. "It was worth it, totally worth it."

  "Where, Natalie?"

  "The hotel, so I could look at the artifact. I realized even with a great photograph I might get it wrong and you need to know for sure. I had the helmet over my head so no-one could recognize me, and I drove really carefully so I wouldn't be pulled over for anything, and guess what? I got some amazing pictures. They'll be invaluable."

  The words had spilled out of her in a rush, and she realized she'd forgotten the most important part of her story.

  "It's the genuine artifact on the pedestal, not the resin fake, and it has a ton of new security around it. That's why I took the pictures. So you can see it."

  He'd been drinking his coffee, and placing the mug on the counter behind him, he crossed his arms and looked at her intently.

  "Just so I'm clear. You left the house against my specific instructions, you took the Harley without permission, you went back to the hotel where Victor would do God knows what if he found you, but you thought that was okay because you were wearing a helmet. Did I leave anything out?"

  "Uh…there is one other teensy thing."

  "I'm listening."

  "They did spot me, and I, uh, I was followed, but not here. I pushed one of the buttons and—"

  "And the car following you slid into a tree, or garbage can, or telephone pole."

  "A tree," she said quietly. "OH, and there is one more thing. Sorry. I thought I should have something with me, you know, so I could act like a messenger. I dropped off an envelope for Andy."

  "You dropped off an envelope for Andy," he slowly repeated. "What was in the envelope?"

  "A note that said I was sorry I wasn't able to say goodbye and I hope things work out for him."

  "Dear Lord give me strength," he muttered. "Natalie, if Victor sees that note he'll run the hotel's security footage. If he does that he'll also see you taking the photographs and then he'll probably remove the relic."