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The Spy in 3B
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The Spy in 3B
Nana Malone
Copyright © 2021 by Nana Malone
Published by Rakuten Kobo Inc. as Kobo Originals
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover photography by Brandon Sosa Photography
Cover design by Qamber Design & Media
Production by Bright Wing Media
All rights reserved. For information about permissions to reproduce this book address Rakuten Kobo, 1-135 Liberty Street, Toronto, Ontario, M6K 1A7.
ISBN 9781774533604
Website: www.kobo.com/originals
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Next in Series
More By Nana Malone
Landmarks
Cover
Copyright Page
Table of Contents
Body Matter
Chapter 1
Lyra
I tried not to fidget in my seat as Roslyn James droned on and on about the mission.
The target location. Target resistance. Acquire the target. And oh yes, don’t kill the target. That last part was especially important, considering the last mission where I’d run into a spot of trouble and nearly killed the target… accidentally on purpose.
“Am I boring you, Lyra?”
I wrangled my wayward attention and shook my head as I glanced around at my teammates. “No, sorry, Roslyn. I’m not bored at all.”
Lies. I was bored stiff.
This meeting was part mission brief, part lecture. And I’d had one too many lectures lately.
“Look, we hear you. Don’t kill the target. But to be fair, the last target was holding one of the girls hostage. He was a human trafficker, and I did save her life.”
Roz sighed then gave me that subtle Michelle Obama-style lip purse that conveyed her displeasure but also her slight amusement. I really shouldn’t take advantage of her being my mentor, but Sampson had that knife wound coming.
She dismissed the rest of my team, and when I pushed on the arms of the orange Tom Dixon designer chair to join them, she lifted her brow at me. “No, you stay.”
Addie Franklin, my best friend and sometimes partner, gave me a wincing smile and then mouthed, Good luck.
Help that she was.
I turned back to Roz. “I’m so sorry. Look, I know you would like me to be more contrite about the Sampson mission, but I can’t seem to muster any remorse. He was a human trafficker.”
She expelled another long-suffering sigh and then placed her hands palms down onto the sculpted glass top of her Nina Campbell desk that was both functional and beautiful. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you this, Lyra. You need to tuck away your emotions. You’re one of the best agents we have. But still, I have to lecture you because sometimes your emotions get the best of you.”
I did push out of my chair then. If she was planning on continuing the lecture, I wasn’t just going to sit down and take it. Besides, I was restless. I had a date planned, one I wasn’t sure I wanted to go on. I started to pace around Roz’s office, and she eased back into her chair. “Lyra, what’s wrong? I spoke to Everly. She said you were edgy, tight. Is there something you want to share with me?”
Everly Jones was our in-house psychiatrist. We each saw her quarterly for evaluations, and if one of us had an ‘incident,’ we saw her more frequently. At that point, I was seeing her weekly.
I bit on the corner of my Pink Perfection polished thumbnail and frowned down at the acrylics. God, I hated acrylic nails, but they were part of the facade. Part of the costume. This costume, anyway. The carefree, have-no-worries woman. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I shouldn’t have disposed of Sampson so efficiently.”
Roz’s lips twitched then, and I could see the burgeoning grin forming. “Yes, Lyra. Wound him. Maim him. But we needed him alive.”
“Roz, what he was doing to that girl, what he would have done to so many others… I just— He had her by the throat, and the next thing I knew, my knife flew out of my hand.”
She shook her head at me. “Excuse me? ‘Next thing you knew’? I know for a fact, Lyra, when you are in the mood, you have the utmost control. It’s just that you never seem to be in the mood lately. You have gone quite righteous on us. You do know what we do here, right?” She spread her arms. “At The Firm, you know your purpose.”
I grinned at that. “We keep the world safe.” I sniffed and muttered the part I hated. The part that kept me up at night. “Sometimes we deal with shitty people to get what we need.” I inhaled sharply. “I could show restraint. But when it comes to scum, restraint isn’t really my strongest asset.”
She sighed. “I know you could. You’re just choosing not to. And it makes me wonder why. I thought you were happy doing this job.”
I blinked rapidly. “What? Of course, I am happy.” The Firm was my home.
We were a hidden government black ops organization that was so covert even the world’s best hackers couldn’t find us.
Our official cover was P.O.P. PR & Marketing. With its bright white, orange, and pink decor, our front offices looked the part of every other contemporary marketing firm. We “specialized” in businesses run by women. And the funny thing was, we actually did have marketing people on staff. On the off-chance that someone actually did try to hire us for a PR job, there were three people on the team that could put together a real pitch and get the job done.
I’d been recruited by The Firm when I was nineteen, a year after my parents died. I’d been lost and on the verge of my life imploding. That’s how Roz found me. I’d worked here officially since my twenty-first birthday. And before that, The Firm had paid for my last two years of school.
I’d been alone and drifting, not knowing where my life was going to take me. She had given me purpose. I owed her for that, and I needed to be more grateful.
You also erased everything you were.
“I’m sorry. I really am. And you’re right; I’m a professional, damn it. I just… Sampson was going to kill her, and I knew I could stop it, so I did. Because sometimes, we have to make a human choice.”
She nodded. “Your humanity and your love of people is one of the reasons I recruited you. We don’t want those qualities eliminated. I just want you to be aware that the mission comes first. You have to know that. You have to drill it into your bones.”
“I hear you. I’m sorry.” It was a real effort not to sound like I was choking on the apology.
Because I wasn’t that sorry about what happened with Sampson and the not-so-accidental stabbing. It was more that I was sorry that Roz was disappointed in me.
“Okay, that’s it.” She stood, and I went to give her a hug. Sometimes, when I was feeling all alone, it was easy to pretend that Roz was my mother, though I knew she wasn’t.
My mother had been very, very different from Roz. All warmth and softness, but sadly, a little afraid of her own child. She’d had her hands full with a daughter like me. I was always running off to save someone or to give someone a piece of my mind. By the time I was ten, I’d had several adults threaten to spank me if she wouldn’t do it. Especially when she took me b
ack to Ghana where she’d grown up.
Since I was a child, my mouth had always gotten the better of me.
My abhorrence of injustice started early. When something wasn’t right, I had to fix it, even if fixing it meant I was likely going to get in trouble. What I wouldn’t have given to hear my mother yell out one more time, Lyra, for the love of Christ, be careful. Watch your mouth.
But she’d been gone a long time now. I cleared my throat to dislodge the unexpected emotion. “I’m sorry, Roz. Next time, I will be full-on Elsa. Completely chilled out.”
Roz shook her head at me, and then we hugged. I teetered on my heels, nearly knocking us both over. I managed to find my center of balance, but not before toppling several files on Roz’s desk. One folder, much thicker than the others, flew open, and papers went everywhere.
Roz’s voice was a swarm of harsh pinpricks as I bent to retrieve them. “Fuck, Lyra, leave it. Those are classified.”
I bent down immediately. “I’m not even looking at them. I’m just helping you pick them up. I’m sorry.”
She shooed me aside and shook her head at me. “No, I will get them. I said they’re classified.”
“Sorry.” I backed off and put my hands up. “I was only trying to help.
She sighed. “Lyra, what’s wrong with you? You seem off.”
“No, I’m fine.”
She lifted her brow and frowned at me.
I threw up my hands and then slid off the heels I was wearing. “These. These are the problem. I have a stupid date tonight.”
She grinned at me. “Ah, yes. The nice boy from next door.”
I laughed. “Roz, he’s not a nice boy. He’s a man. A full-fledged man.” With the big hands of a man. Not that I’d been watching him too closely.
She nodded. “Yes, of course. Sorry.”
I laughed. “Oh, you know what I mean. He’s a man, and this is our third date, and I don’t know what I’m going to do with him.”
She laughed. “Well, it’s been a while since I’ve been on a date, but I seem to recall that what you do with them is fuck their brains out.”
My jaw fell open. “Roz.”
“What? I was young once.”
Screw young. Rumor was, in the past, she liked to try out the young Valentine operatives. A test drive so to speak.
I kept my amused snort to myself. “I have no objections to him, really. He’s perfectly nice, I guess.”
Marcus looked the part. Sex appeal and brains in spades. He was a game designer, and I liked him. He was kind, attentive, and conscientious. But there was something off.
Sometimes when we were together, it was like I ran into static interference. I could tell there was so much more to him, but if I went a layer too deep, it was like I had the wrong signal or something. And it certainly didn’t help that our first two dates had been interrupted and we hadn’t even kissed.
Roz smiled and nodded. “Yes, nice is good. You do need a life outside of The Firm, so this is perfect. And you know that senior management prefers our agents in relationships.”
Ahh, yes. The partnership clause. I personally found it bizarre. One would think black-ops agents should be unattached. But no, senior management found that agents in a steady, committed relationship performed better and were less volatile, so they encouraged partners. Granted, they did not encourage telling your partner what you actually did for a living. If you did… Well, that had grave consequences.
“I mean, do you think it’s wise, all things considered?”
She picked up her papers and stacked them back on her desk. “In your case, yes. You had a different induction into The Firm. Before you joined us, your home life was a much more normal situation than some of our other agents. So get a life. Go on a date. Make some friends. Los Angeles is full of people looking to connect. Some of your teammates didn’t have normal recruitments, whatever normal means. They had more colorful inductions into The Firm, but I even encourage socializing for them. So, you should date. And a relationship is a good way to release some of your… tension. It’ll give you something else to focus on, so you’ll be less of a crusader on missions. You’ll take less unnecessary risks.”
I sighed. I knew exactly what she meant by tension. “I know.” I just didn’t know what she meant by normal. How normal could I feel when everything about me was a lie?
My first name was real. My mother had seen it in a book and loved it. But my real surname had been scrubbed six years ago. Lyra Adamson was long dead. And Lyra Wilkinson was just an imaginary woman.
The cognitive dissonance lately had started to mess with my equilibrium.
It was encouraged for us to have lives, partners, etcetera. Obviously, secrecy was of the utmost importance, but nonetheless, we were urged to have relationships outside of work. It just got complicated. I’d seen it. Because love demanded honesty. Love. I wasn’t in danger of that happening to me.
“Honey, when was the last time you had sex?”
I blinked rapidly. “Roz, you are not my mother.”
“But I might as well be. When was the last time?”
A flush crept up my neck. “I don’t remember.”
She sighed. “I wonder if I should have handled the Tyler situation better.”
I shifted uncomfortably on my feet. “We don’t need to talk about that.” Tyler was my ex and a subject better left undiscussed. “I’d rather not talk about my sex life with you.”
She pshawed me. “Think of me like the cool older sister.”
“Fine, Roz, you’re my cool older sister. Now, can we stop talking about this?”
“Okay, fine. Go have fun on your date. And Lyra, I think it’s in your best interest to enjoy yourself with this young man. That dating app matched you, right?”
“Yes, it did.” Lost in Love was the app, and I regretted ever signing up for the stupid thing.
“Then trust the process.”
“Oh my God, you’ve been watching The Bachelor, haven’t you?”
She winked at me. “Even I have a life.”
Roz had been married to her husband, Adam, for fourteen years. He knew nothing about her actual job, and I never understood how they managed it. But she seemed to care about him in some sense. So if she could do it, I could do it. Besides, Marcus was nice. He was great. Just, um…
Boring.
“Okay, thanks for the advice. I love you, and I’ll see you later.”
“Yes, see you later. Have fun. Use a condom.”
I whirled around and threw my hands up. “Roz.”
She laughed at me. “Sorry, sorry. I’m just saying, safety is sexy.”
I put my hands on my ears and hummed out la-la-la-la as I laughed. A quick check of my watch told me if I left now I’d get there right on time. We were meeting at a bistro not too far from our apartment building. Our first date was a shocker when I realized that I’d seen him before and he was actually my neighbor. I grabbed my purse from my desk and sighed at the picture of my mother and father. It was one of the few memories I kept of them. They’d had that kind of sweeping love that every little girl dreams about. And I just wished that one day I could have something like that.
Who knows? Maybe today is your day.
* * *
Marcus
“Where are we now, mate?”
My brother and I had been over this dozens of times, but somehow, he always seemed to forget.
“You know I can’t tell you that.”
“Right. Top secret.”
“Yep, mate, top secret.” It didn’t matter how many times we’d been over this. It didn’t matter that Liam was ex-SIS himself. He still asked. All he knew was that I was a government contractor. That was all he was allowed to know.
I changed the subject like I’d grown used to doing. If he pressed, I’d have to put on the façade. And there were some people I just wanted to be real with. “How’s it going with you?”
“Ella is a beauty. When are you coming home to see her?”
I was up for leave in a few weeks, but I wasn’t exactly enthusiastic about going home Watching everyone do the having kids and moving on with their lives thing as their next step wasn’t really something I was looking forward to.
Sooner or later, you must return home.
I knew it was true. I did have to go home at some point, but not today. Too many painful memories. “She looks beautiful in the pictures, mate.”
“Thanks. Thankfully, she looks like her mum.”
I laughed. “Yes, I would agree. Ella is going to be a beautiful princess.”
“She needs her uncle to spoil her rotten and to help me build a tower to keep out suitors.”
“Oh, I fully intend to spoil her rotten. That’s what being an uncle is all about. As soon as I get leave, I’ll come home. I need to cuddle that face.” The lie tasted bitter on my tongue.
His brow furrowed “You all right?” he asked.
That was the problem with talking to Liam. Other than Dad, he was the only one who could see when I was full of shit. And that was why I had to get off the phone. The video chat was good though. It was good to see him with baby Ella strapped to his chest with some kind of contraption.
Slowly, he rolled them both back and forth as I attempted to change the subject again. “How come you only call me when you’ve managed to lull her into sleep?”
“Once she’s asleep, a bomb could go off and she won’t wake… unless of course you stop rocking her. I’m just more efficient at it than Taryn is. The wheelchair makes it easy.”
I rolled my eyes. “Leave it to you to find a way to get extra cuddles in.”
“Hey, Taryn was hogging her with all the breastfeeding. I needed to find a way to get in the extra time. Popping wheelies is something my very capable, gorgeous, and exhausted wife can’t do.”
“Well, good on you. I’ll check in with you later. I need to get ready for my date anyway.”
His grin split his face wide. “At bloody last. You can finally get a leg over. How long has it been since someone other than yourself touched your dick?”
I feigned shock. “Your bloody daughter is right there, mate.”