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“Hold everything,” I said. “You can see my torc too? Damn! What’s the point in having a secret weapon if everyone knows about it?”
“Ah,” said Walker. “But then, we’re not just everyone, are we?”
I nodded, acknowledging the point. “Still,” I said, “why would Alexander King choose you, Walker? No offence, but you’re not an agent, as such.”
“Perhaps not,” said Walker. “But who knows more about the real secrets and mysteries of the world than I?”
We all turned to face the next new figure as he strolled unhurriedly across the landing pad to join us. He came to a halt before us, nodded briefly, and then just stood his ground, letting us look him over. Truth be told, he didn’t look like much. A vaguely handsome, even elegant young man in his early twenties, wearing a sharply cut fashionable suit with ease and grace. Blond hair, blue eyes, in good shape but nothing to boast about. He had a reserved, bookish look, and a pale, essentially characterless face. In fact, the same kind of instantly forgettable face as mine . . . An agent’s face. He didn’t offer to shake hands with anyone, and if he felt the impact of Honey’s sexuality, he kept it to himself.
“Peter King,” he said shortly. “The Independent Agent is my grandfather. He insisted I take part in this last crooked game of his. Not that I expect him to cut me any slack. He never has before.”
“What part of the spy business are you in, Peter?” I asked.
“Corporate intelligence,” he said stiffly. “Industrial espionage. Stealing or protecting secrets or other privileged information. Arranging the defection and safe conduct of important perso
“Can’t say I’ve actually heard of you, Peter,” said Honey, not unkindly.
He smiled briefly. “That’s because I’m very good at what I do.”
And there was no arguing with that. The best agents leave no trace at all that they were ever there.
“Still, Alexander King’s grandson,” Honey Lake said thoughtfully. “The Company has no files on King ever having any family.”
“Grandfather never did believe in leaving hostages to fortune,” said Peter. “If the world didn’t know about his family, the world couldn’t use them against him. The grand old man of secrets delighted in having secrets of his own. Don’t ask me about my father or my mother. Some things should stay secret.” He looked around the deserted landing pad. “This is the first time I’ve ever been here. To the house at the top of the world, where Grandfather sits in his jealous little web of intrigue, hoarding his secrets like the miser he is. My mother told me stories about this place . . . Even years later, she still had nightmares about her time here. And now here I am, the not so prodigal grandson, come to compete for what should be my legacy.”
“Family histories are always so embarrassing,” said the Blue Fairy.
“Can’t argue with that,” I said.
We all looked around at the sound of high heels clacking briskly across the concrete as the final contestant in the great game came forward to join us. I watched her approach, and she was worth the attention. I felt like whistling and applauding, just on general principles. Peter was gri
“Greetings and salutations, darlings,” she said in a low purring voice, like a cat licking cream off a mouse. “I am Lethal Harmony, agent for hire out of Kathmandu. Please, call me Katt. Everyone does.”
There was something feline about her. A sense of graceful style, casual cruelty, and vicious power concealed behind a hair trigger, ready to be unleashed on absolutely anyone at a moment’s notice. Honey Lake made a hell of a first impression, but she looked like an i
Katt was tall and slender, with delicate streamlined curves and enough presence and poise to take any man’s breath away. She wore a long black silk gown tucked in tightly here and there to accentuate her figure, and as she turned this way and that to make sure we all got the benefit of her smile, I glimpsed an ornate oriental dragon embroidered the full length of the back of her gown. Katt had sweet Asian features, sharply styled jet black hair, dark Eastern eyes, and a rosebud mouth with lips the colour of plums. Beautiful, graceful, and no doubt very deadly when required. Katt, indeed.
I still got the impression she practiced that smile in front of the bathroom mirror, though. It was just too good.
She was playing a part, but it was a good part, and I appreciated the effort she’d put into it. If you can’t be anonymous, like me, hide behind a cliché, and they’ll never see the real you. Until it’s too late.
“Lethal Harmony,” said Honey Lake, her voice coldly amused. “Dear little Kitty-Katt. I should have known you’d turn up. The espionage field’s very own wa
Katt glared at Honey, who glared right back at her. I half expected them to hiss and bare their claws at each other.
“Are we to take it you two know each other?” said the Blue Fairy, not bothering to hide his amusement.
“We’ve worked together,” Honey said shortly. “When the job demanded it. Don’t trust her, don’t turn your back on her, and never go dutch on anything.”
“How unkind,” said Katt, still smiling her perfect smile.
“I notice you’re not denying any of it,” said Honey.
“Why should I?” said Katt. “We’re all agents here. We all know how the game is played.” She leaned forward to look at me more closely. “Ooh, a Drood! How thrilling!”
“Oh, hell,” I said, just a bit put out. “Can everyone here see my torc?”
“Well, yes,” said Peter. “We wouldn’t be much of a top field agent if we couldn’t, would we? I’m more concerned with what the half elf is doing with a torc. Elves are dangerous enough as it is without giving them the nuclear option.”
“How very kind,” drawled the Blue Fairy. “It’s always nice to be appreciated.”
“So, Katt,” I said, ostentatiously changing the subject. “Who do you work for?”
“Anybody, everybody,” Katt said lightly. “Morals are all very well, but a girl has to eat, darling. It’s a cold-cash world these days.”
“Do you believe in anything?” said Honey Lake.
“I believe in being paid,” Katt said firmly. “And you’re a fine one to talk, little miss I’m not really CIA; I just screw people over because I’m good at it. No, sweeties; I am no man’s slave, and no dogma’s, either. I am the last of the great adventurers, darlings, and I love it!”
“Always good to have a fellow realist on board,” said the Blue Fairy. He extended a hand to Katt, and she looked down her nose at it, as though she’d just been offered a turd. Blue withdrew his hand, managing to look hurt but still dignified.
“Never trust an elf,” Katt said flatly. “And even then, trust an elf before a half-breed.”
“Harsh words,” Blue said calmly. “Especially from such a notorious femme fatale, the espionage field’s very own belle dame sans merci. How many men and women have died in your poisonous embrace, dear Katt? How many lovers have you seduced and betrayed? At least I had the basic decency to pay for most of mine . . . Tell me, dear Katt; is it true you prefer your victims to die in bed, so you can suck their last dying breath into your no doubt luscious mouth and savour it?”
Katt drew herself up to her full height. “You’ll never know.”