Page 63 of The Battle of Maddox
I pulled Aaron through the doorway Smoke had pointed to. There was a typical European kitchen with everything just slightly smaller than the overwhelming size of everything American. It was clean and neat, and I pulled open the small fridge.
“There’s beer?” I said to Aaron.
He shook his head. “No. Just water, thanks.”
I pitched one at him and we sat at the table. He played with the cap for a minute.
“How do you know this guy?”
I downed my swallow of beer. I realized I had been way too chummy with Smoke while Aaron was still freaking out about the whole thing.
“Smoke is one of the Gaggle—the group of guys I’ve been hanging out with for years. He went through the Marines with Vincent, and a bunch of us met and started hanging out our first year in college. No matter what happened, we all seemed to gravitate back toward each other. Constantly. We’ve pulled in new people and lost some over the years, but it’s been a pretty good crew.
“Smoke turned all mysterious during the summer of what would have been my junior year. He was disappearing for days at a time and then coming back. For about three years, he just acted dodgy. Finally, when he and Vincent got stuck in a…situation that had Vincent begging me and Noah and Uriah for help he finally confessed he’d been working as a spy. We couldn’t ever get it out of him what agency he worked for, but he seems to know a lot of people.”
“He’s a spy? A real spy?”
“I am,” Smoke answered for me, walking in. “Well, I’m retiring, finally, but yes.”
“Retiring?”
“Got shot again,” he said, putting down another manila envelope. “After the Upstate disaster, I took another assignment and I got shot in the shoulder. Again. I’m not fully and completely retiring, there are…things I can’t abandon. But I want a job where I can go to an office once in a while. Maybe have some actual coworkers I can trust.”
“See, that’s a bait statement,” I said to Aaron. “He wants us to ask about not trusting his coworkers, but as soon as we ask, he’ll tell us he can’t actually tell us much more than that.”
Aaron smirked. “Or he’ll have to kill us?”
Smoke bit his lip to keep from laughing.
“That’s a yes,” I answered.
“So,” he said, pulling a beer for himself out of the fridge. “Those are your tickets to Milan. The plane leaves tomorrow at ten, and you’ll be on the ground by noon local. They are under your Polish papers, so make sure you keep those close. Once you get to Milan, you can burn the Russian and Polish ones and text me to let me know. The forger wants to scramble and reuse parts of the paperwork for others.”
“We can fly to Milan?” Aaron asked.
“You certainly can,” Smoke said.
“Where are we staying tonight? I can get a hotel—”
Smoke gestured around him. “Here’s fine. This is a safehouse a few of the agencies use. It’s a joint secret. But the beds upstairs are clean, and the fridge is always stocked. It’s better if you stay inside, too. I’ll drive you to the airport in the morning. I have a meeting tonight with a contact, so feel free to use the TV or the computer.”
“The computer?” Aaron asked. “But—”
Smoke waved him off. “Please, it’s so encrypted that it’s firewall has a firewall that has its own firewall. But don’t turn on your phone. That rule still stands.”
“We can at least email Josef and let him know we’re okay. He can call Dietrich.” Aaron stared at me. “It wouldn’t be out of place for a father to call a son.”
“Good thinking.” Smoke smiled. “You catch on quick. Wanna job?”
Aaron laughed. “Got one, thanks.” He stood up. “Where’s the computer? I’ll send the email off right now.”
Smoke directed him to the room at the front of the house, and Aaron seemed excited for the chance to contact the outside world.
Turning back to me at the table, Smoke cocked his head and stared. “Dude.”
“What?”
“Are you tapping that?”
