The Spy Is Cast (20 page)

Unlike the others, he
was suspended by his wrists from the ceiling. They had apparently
finished with his face and gone on to other pursuits. I tried not
to think about the wounds on the rest of his body, but my memory
persisted in showing me the nightmare image whole.

Without conscious
thought, I propelled my insubstantial self through the wall and
into the room. Inside, the smell of burned human flesh made me gag
helplessly. One of the men was yelling questions at Kane, so the
sound was masked. The thud of the iron bar hitting Kane’s ribs
galvanized me into action.

Frantic to make them
stop, I was halfway across the room before reason reasserted
itself. It was a simulation. If I attacked them now, Harchman would
know there was somebody else in the sim. They would redouble
security. We couldn’t afford it.

Surely they would have
to stop soon. They wouldn’t kill him until they got the information
they wanted, would they?

There was an alarming
amount of blood. Kane’s breath was stertorous, each inhalation a
rattling groan. He couldn’t last much longer. They’d have to
stop.

Another wave of nausea
clenched my gut. Even though it was a sim, I knew Kane was feeling
every injury as if it was real. I couldn’t let him suffer like
this.

I floated above his
head. Sending my voice right next to his ear, I whispered, barely
breathing.

“John. It’s Aydan.
You’re in a sim. If you understand, move your right hand.”

He tensed and groaned
again. The clenched fist of his right hand opened slowly before
squeezing closed again.

“Who are you working
for? Where have you hidden the fob?” Another savage blow landed.
Kane’s body jerked, an agonized grunt wrenching from him. The side
of his battered chest was already caved in and misshapen. Shattered
ribs for sure, and probably a collapsed lung…

I gulped down nausea
and whispered again. “John, I’m going to take away your pain now.
You’ll feel me touch your head. Then you’ll feel a sensation like
cool water running through your body. You’ll still look wounded,
but the pain will be completely gone.”

God forgive me the
lie. It was a sim. If he believed, it should happen.

I reached slowly and
carefully toward his head, trying to judge the distance. When my
fingertips touched his hair, his entire body went suddenly limp,
dangling lifelessly from his chained wrists.

Panic lanced through
my heart. Had I killed him? I fumbled down his neck, searching for
a pulse. Thank God, I felt the rapid beat. I withdrew quickly,
making his blood vanish from my invisible fingers.

One of the torturers
grunted. “Shit. He passed out.”

The other man
shrugged. “Whatever. Time for a smoke anyway. Come back later.”
They turned and went through the portal.

Just another day at
the office for them. I should have killed them where they
stood.

I threw my whisper
again. “John, I’m going to move in front of you so we can talk.
Keep your head down. Try not to react if I touch you, because I
can’t see what I’m doing. If you understand, take a deep
breath.”

His crushed chest rose
and fell with a bubbling sound, blood drooling from what was left
of his lips. I floated around in front of him, trying not to look
at the appalling damage. At close range, the burns were horrific,
and the smell of them made my stomach roil. I manoeuvred carefully,
instinctively trying to avoid touching him even though I knew he
wouldn’t feel the pain.

“I’m in front of you
now,” I breathed. “You can whisper to me, and I’ll hear.”

“’Hanks.”

I glanced down as I
puzzled over that. I clamped down hard on control when I realized
the white bits scattered on the blood-covered floor were his teeth.
His face was so destroyed he could barely form words.

“You’re welcome.”

“Aydan, ge’ ou’. ‘oo
dangerous.”

“I’m not staying. I
just need to know where your physical body is. We’re coming to get
you.”

“Gues’ house. Gues’
room. ‘oo doors down on righ’. Guards.”

“How many?”

“’Oo. ‘ha I saw. One
ou’side room. One a’ gues’ house door.”

“Plus the two that
were here?”

“Ya.”

“Have you seen
Harchman?”

“No.”

“Are you tied to the
ceiling like this in the guest room?”

“No. ‘ied ‘oo a shair.
‘Ha’s how I knew i’ was a sim. ‘hey screwed up.”

“Hold on. I’m going to
go take a look. I’ll be right back.”

I floated through the
wall again and found the nearest portal. I wasn’t sure if this
would work or not. I willed a transparent window and floated a safe
distance away, peering through my viewport.

I was looking out at
the highway. Hellhound lay comfortably stretched out at the side of
the ditch, one knee drawn up, one arm behind his head. His other
arm cradled my head on his chest. Despite his relaxed posture, his
eyes scanned alertly.

Shit.

I drifted back. “When
I look through a portal, I can only see where I came from. I can’t
see where you came from.”

“S’okay. Shair’s no’
‘ha’ s’rong. I ‘hink I could ge’ free. Bu’ I couldn’ leave ‘he
sim.”

“I have an idea. You
need to be invisible now. I’ll create a construct that looks
exactly like you. I need you to imagine that you’re invisible and
insubstantial. Just float up above your own head. If it works, come
and float about three feet in front of your body. Remember I’m here
in front of you, so leave me some space.”

“’Kay. Gonna do i’
now.”

I watched, holding his
image in my mind. Nothing happened.

Shit, shit, shit! Now
what?

I jerked and bit off a
shriek when something thudded into my back. I whirled and made
contact with something I couldn’t see. A large hand closed on my
shoulder, and then I was wrapped in Kane’s invisible arms.

I felt his breath on
my cheek. “That’s an ugly mess, isn’t it?” he whispered, his speech
no longer impaired by the maimed face.

I tightened trembling
arms around him. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry! I should have told you
how to do the invisibility before we left. You didn’t have to
suffer like that.”

“I had to anyway. I
couldn’t take a chance on letting them know I knew I was in a sim.
Thanks for the pain relief. How did you do that?”

“I didn’t. You
did.”

There was a moment of
silence. “Damn. I didn’t think of that.” I felt him shrug. “You
said you had a plan.”

“Not really, yet. This
was just supposed to be recon. But I just had a thought. Those two
were in the guest room with you when you went into the sim,
right?”

“Yes.”

“So if you were able
to get free with your physical body, you could take them out if
they were busy in the network?”

“Yes, but as soon as I
disappear from the sim, they’ll know. I don’t think the guest rooms
are monitored, but the sim definitely is. The guard at the door
would be on me in seconds.”

“What if… shit!”

The two men stepped
into the virtual room again. I towed Kane with me up to the ceiling
and into a back corner. His construct dangled from its chains,
groaning and coughing weakly. As the torture began anew, Kane and I
continued our whispered conversation. I blocked out the gruesome
activity as best I could, knowing the captors’ own expectations
would maintain the construct as long as they suspected nothing.

“I’ll go look through
the portal and see where they’re positioned.”

I felt Kane move away.
There was muffled thud from the vicinity of the wall, then silence.
I kept my back to the action in the room, but I could still hear
all too clearly.

Kane’s construct was
beginning to sob feebly, driven by the expectations of its
torturers. The harrowing sound drove me to the limits of my
control. Clinging desperately to composure, I imposed my will over
the construct, and it subsided into groaning again.

Something grazed my
arm and I jumped, my nerves stretched to breaking. Large, unseen
hands closed on my shoulders, and Kane’s invisible forehead thumped
into my cheekbone. I felt him readjust, and his lips brushed my
ear. “Dammit! This is harder to do than I thought. Did you hear me
hit the wall?”

“I did, but they
didn’t.”

“Good. They’re still
in the guest room with my body. You were saying…” Kane
prompted.

“What if I stay here
and maintain your construct while you go back into your body and
kill them in real life? Do you think you could take the guard,
too?”

“With the element of
surprise, yes. But if they die in real life, they’ll disappear from
the sim.”

“Not if I maintain
constructs of them. You could be long gone from the guest house
before anybody ever knows anything has happened.”

“That could work,” he
murmured. “There’s something strange going on with security. I
think I could probably get off the property on foot. But that
leaves you here. That’s completely unacceptable.”

“No, that leaves me
and Hellhound having a nap in the ditch outside the property. You
could meet us there. Once you’re there, I could pull out of the
network. By the time the alarm was raised, we’d all be down the
road.”

“Risky. But it could
work. I need to think it through.”

“Fine. I need to go
back and check in with Hellhound. We’re running out of time before
Germain fires up Plan B. We’ll have to contact him. Meet you back
here in a few minutes.”

I gratefully fled back
to my portal. I stepped through very slowly and carefully. Now
would be a bad time to be incapacitated.

The usual red-hot
knives sliced and diced my brain, and I cried out and jerked my
arms protectively over my head. The residual shock and horror of
the sim combined with the physical pain to turn my curses into
half-sobs, and I fought the tears that burned the backs of my eyes
as I writhed.

No time, no time. I
forced myself to uncurl, opening blind eyes. When vision returned,
I found myself clasped against Hellhound’s warm chest. He muttered
rough comfort while he held me and stroked my hair.

I pulled away, wiping
my eyes, and drew in a ragged breath. “All clear?”

“Yeah, darlin’,
what..?” His face was filled with worry.

“No time,” I
interrupted. “I’m going to get Kane out. He should be here in
twenty minutes, half an hour tops if all goes well. I need you to
call Germain, tell him we’re okay and to give us another half-hour.
Kane should be coming through the trees here from the direction of
the buildings. Signal me as soon as you see or hear him. He can
take the Honda, you can double me back on the Harley. Got it?”

“Got it.” He was
reaching for his phone when I dove back into the void.

I folded virtual space
and appeared directly outside the room. Trying to ignore the
atrocities within, I floated slowly and carefully up to the corner
of the ceiling. I muffled a grunt when I collided with Kane.

His arms closed around
me, and I quested blindly for his ear. “We’re all set,” I
whispered. “We’re beside the road just where it swings around close
to the building site. Head straight north from here. You’ll have
half an hour, give or take, to get there. I’ll hold the constructs
here until Arnie signals me. Then you can take the Honda, and I’ll
ride back with him on the Harley.”

“All right. But if I
don’t make it in half an hour, go without me.”

“This is Hellhound
we’re talking about. You know that won’t happen.”

He sighed. “I know. He
never did follow orders. Let’s hope he doesn’t need to.”

“Good luck.”

“You, too.”

His hands slid up my
shoulders to touch my face, and I might have felt his lips brush my
forehead before he released me to float alone in the void. I
dragged my shrinking attention back to the room. I’d thought it
couldn’t get worse, but I’d been wrong. I breathed carefully
through my mouth, trying not to throw up.

Suddenly, one of the
men blinked out of existence. I quickly filled in a construct in
his place. Then the other was gone, and Kane’s construct flickered,
too, while I desperately tried to maintain three separate entities
at the same time. This was harder than I’d expected.

Then the full horror
of the situation hit me. I was going to have to torture Kane.

Ghastly time crawled
by. I’d seen enough already to let my expectations of the two men
fulfill themselves. I tried to detach myself, like watching a
sickening movie, knowing what would happen but powerless to stop
observing it. Even though I knew the constructs could neither think
nor feel, making the action play out was an abomination. Slow hell
unfolded before me.

At last, I felt the
blip I’d prayed for. With a gasp, I folded virtual reality and
stepped out the portal.

I couldn’t stop
myself. Cries escaped me while I clawed at my head, trying to
dislodge the memories and the pain. When a powerful grip pinned my
hands, I battered my head desperately against the nearest firm
surface. A few moments later I realized the firm surface was
Hellhound, calling my name while he tried to restrain me.

My stomach heaved, and
I jerked away from him to vomit in the ditch. Two shivering sobs
wrenched out before I clamped down with the last remnants of my
self-control. I took a couple of deep, trembling breaths, then spat
and wiped my face.

When I looked up, Kane
and Hellhound were both kneeling beside me. The sight of Kane’s
undamaged face and body almost undid me again, and I sucked in an
unsteady breath.

“Thank God,” I
croaked. “Let’s go.”

Hellhound helped me up
and buckled my helmet onto my head before mounting up, and Kane
half-lifted me onto the Harley. I clung to Hellhound’s warm bulk as
if I was drowning, my helmet pressed against the snarling dog on
his broad back. Then we were flying down the road, and I let the
warm sweet breeze wash everything away.