Simon Green - The Spy Who Haunted Me

“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 innocent corn-fed cheerleader next to Lethal Harmony of Kathmandu. Honey blazed, but Katt smouldered.

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 wannabe dragon lady.”

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.”

“Such a relief,” said the Blue Fairy.

“Children, children,” murmured Walker. “Play nice.”

“This is why I prefer industrial espionage,” said Peter. “No personalities to get in the way.”

I looked around the empty landing pad. “Is this it? Just us? No Russian or Chinese agents?”

“They’re mostly concerned with internal problems these days,” said Honey.

“You’d know,” said Walker.

“Still,” I said. “This isn’t quite the gathering I’d expected. I mean, we’re the six greatest agents operating in the field today? Us?”

“I think that says more about the current state of the world than I am comfortable knowing,” said Walker.

“Grandfather chose us,” said Peter. “He must have his reasons.”

“And why the flux fog?” said the Blue Fairy. “What was the point of that? We all know where we are.”

“Do we?” I said. “Once we arrived and stepped into the flux fog, it could have taken us anywhere. This is supposed to be the Swiss Alps, but I couldn’t prove it. One mountain chain looks much like another. It would seem Alexander King wants to keep the exact location of his private lair a mystery, right to the end.”

“And no one here to greet us,” said Peter. “How typical of Grandfather. What are we supposed to do, just stand around in the cold until he feels like talking to us?”

He’d barely finished speaking when the concrete rocked under our feet. There was a loud grinding noise, and puffs of dust flew up in long lines all around us, forming a great square. The concrete seemed to drop out from under our feet, and suddenly we were descending a huge dark shaft, leaving the cold and the light behind. We all moved to stand close together, forming our own square so we could look in every direction. The light above us disappeared, and for a long moment there was only the dark and a sense of movement as we descended towards some unknown fate. And then the great concrete slab groaned to a halt and there was a sudden flare of light that made us all wince, and we realised we were standing in a huge entrance lobby.

The air was refreshingly warm, after the cold up above. I looked down, but the concrete slab fitted perfectly into the floor. The entire lobby was bare and empty. No sign of life anywhere. No sign that anyone had ever lived here. Just where had Alexander King brought us? His tomb? And then we all winced again as a great Voice sounded inside our heads. That isn’t supposed to be possible when you wear the Drood torc; we’re supposed to be protected from such invasions. But the Independent Agent always did play by his own rules.

Welcome to Place Gloria, said the Voice. Welcome to my home. Welcome to the greatest game of all.

I waited, but that was all there was. I shook my head gingerly, half expecting something to leak out of my ears. That Voice had been seriously loud . . . I looked at Peter.

“Can you identify that as your grandfather’s voice?”

“No,” he said. “I’ve never been here before, never met the old bastard, never talked to him on the phone. Not even a card on my birthday. If there were any letters, my mother kept them to herself. I got my invitation to this game through an . . . intermediary.”

He broke off as we all turned abruptly and looked in the same direction. There was new information in my head that I very definitely hadn’t put there, telling us which way to go to meet with Alexander King. It had the feel of a summons.