Page 73 of Spies Don't Fall for Their
Ichuckle. “Maybenot, butIfigured whileIwas at it,I’dsee if they could fix your sense of fashion.Turnsout that’s beyond repair, too.”
Emersonlooks down at his neatly-pressedlight blue shirt, his tie with a subtle pattern of mathematical symbols, and his gray sweater vest like he’s trying to see what issueImight have with his outfit.
“Relax, bro.Iwas kidding.”Imake eye contact withKellaand wave her over. “Whatdo you have for me?”
Hepicks up his tablet and the three of us head into one of the conference rooms at the back. “Nottoo much new, unfortunately.Therestill have been no attempts made to steal theTrustpieces with the trackers in eitherDublinorBelgrade.
“We’vealso been monitoring everything we are getting from our contacts close toAragundi.Itseems that his business, nefarious as it is, has been running along as usual.Weare still looking for ways to capture him, since that would be optimal, but you know how slippery he is.
“Ofcourse, our second best scenario is capturing the two men who have been stealing theTrustpieces, since they are currently looking like they’re the strongest contenders forAragundi’sfortune and his network.Nowthat we know who they are, we’ve been working to figure out who their network of people are.Theseare some bad men, and we donotwant them addingAragundi’sresources to their own.
“Stillno sign of them?”Iask.They’vebeen ghosts ever since stealing theTrustpiece inAnkara.Inthe nearly two weeks since we’ve been back,I’vebeen in touch with every contactIhave inEuropeand in theMiddleEastbut every lead has come up empty.
Emersonshakes his head. “Nothing.”It’sseeming more and more likely that they were able to get the number offtheTrustpiece from that case before we got it in our possession.
Kellataps her pen on the conference table. “Maybeone of the brothers was injured and they’re waiting for him to heal.Ormaybe they had their own internal catastrophes that had to be dealt with before they could spare a trip to either of the locations ofTrustpieces.”
“Or,”Iadd, “they could suspect we’re onto them and figured we placed trackers on the final two pieces.Theycould be trying to finish whatever challengeAragundiset up without the numbers from them.”
“Couldbe any of that,”Emersonsays. “Asfar as information we can get from here, we might be at an end unless they make a move.”
ZoeandIhead over to my childhood home, hitch up the trailer, and load on the canoeIused so much as a kid.Thenwe take the twenty-minute drive from my mom’s house toPineyRunLake, where my dad had taken us so many times.
“Wow, it is beautiful here,”Zoesays as we lower the canoe from the trailer into the water.
Thelast of the sunset is reflecting across the smooth water and makes it look rather incredible. “It’sone of my favorite places in the world,”Itell her. “It’sjust as amazing in the middle of the day, too, when you can see all the trees lining the curves and bends of the shore and the sun glinting off the water.Orin the early morning,when you can see mists rising from the water.Youreally can’t go wrong anytime of day, butI’mexcited for the stars to come out, because seeing them reflected on the water is the best.”
Afew minutes later, the trailer is parked, we’re wearing our life jackets, andI’vestepped into the boat.Ihold out a hand forZoe, and she steps in, careful to get her booted foot positioned on the curved floor of the canoe.Ican tell that the thing still annoys her, but she hasn’t complained about it much lately, and she hasn’t tossed it into the nearestDumpster.Ifher doctor doesn’t give her some kind of award for that,Iwill.
Wesit on the two benches, facing each other, andIpull an oar from the floor of the canoe.There’stwo oars, butI’mworried thatZoerowing might prolong the recovery of that broken rib and bruised spleen.ButIalso know that she’d rather act like she’s not injured.Isay whatI’dwant her to say to me if our roles were reversed. “Iknow that in a rowing competition, you’d win, hands down.But,Ireally want you cleared to go on a mission with me soon.Plus,Ikind of just want to show off my mad skill with an oar, so do you mind ifIpaddle?”
Shetries to hide a smile, like she knows exactly whatI’mdoing. “Goahead,” she says. “Iwouldn’t dream of denying you a chance to show off those arm muscles of yours.I’lljust sit back and enjoy the show.”
Igrin. “Speakingof going on a mission with you, has theCIAfound anything on our art thieves?”
“No, butI’vebeen thinking about theTrustpieceIacquired.”
Iflinch.Mymind immediately goes back to that moment whereIwas running toward the handoff of the case from one bad actor to another whenZoestepped out of a building and got to it first.
“Nowthat we know who the men are who have been stealing the trust pieces…”
Myeyes go wide. “Theywere the ones who werereceivingthe handoff, notgivingit!”
Zoenods, a satisfied smile on her face. “Ihad the same realization this morning.Whichmeans they likely didn’t already get the secret number from the chip on that piece before we intercepted it.”
“Sothey’re down by at least one.There’sno way they’ll be successful with only seven of the numbers.Theyhaveto go for at least one more of theTrustpieces.”
Weare both grinning.Wewill get a chance to go on another mission together.
Ipull the oar through the water, first on one side, then on the other, guiding us along the meandering shoreline of the lake, not far from the shore.Thenight is still, the crickets are chirping, an owl is hooting, a few frogs are croaking, and the paddle is making a swishing sound as it enters the water.Everyonce in a while, a fish breaks the surface of the water, making a splashing sound, and occasionally, we hear distant laughter from the one other couple who is on the lake tonight.Thenight is the most relaxingI’vehad in a while.
I’vebeen pointing out all my favorite spots toZoe.WhenIshow her my favorite fishing spot, she says, “Huh.Ican’t really picture you as thefishing type.”
“No?”
“Noteven a little bit.You, sitting in a lawn chair at the edge of the lake, hat pulled down over your eyes, a fishing pole in your hand.I’mjust not seeing it.”
“Oh, yeah, that’s not how we fished.Mydad tried to teach us that way once, but it didn’t stick.Weall just dove into the water, and it became a competition of who could catch one with their bare hands.They’reslippery little things— it isn’t as easy as it sounds.”
