Simon Green - The Spy Who Haunted Me

“Why not?” said Walker, smiling briefly. “We are, after all, professionals.”

“Bloody freezing cold professionals,” said Peter, hugging himself and kicking miserably at the muddy ground. “Where are we, exactly? And don’t anyone just say Scotland or there will be slaps for everyone.”

“A long way from anywhere civilised,” said the Blue Fairy.

Peter smirked. “Like I said, Scotland.”

“If any locals should happen to wander by, I think I’d better do the talking,” said Walker.

“Hold everything,” I said. “Where are the locals? I haven’t seen anyone on or around the loch since we got here. There should be someone knocking about . . . And where are the tourists? There should be boats going up and down the loch on a regular basis, as well as the more hardy souls out for an improving walk to see the scenery. Hell, there isn’t even any wildlife about that I can spot. No birds on the water or in the air . . . It’s like we’re the only living things here.”

“Perhaps the Independent Agent has kindly provided for us to have a little privacy while we work,” said Walker. “Which would seem to indicate he still has connections with the outside world, for all his isolation.” And then he stopped and looked thoughtfully at the darkening clouds filling the sky overhead. “Can anyone tell me what time it is? My watch says midmorning, but I don’t think I trust it. It feels much later than that.”

“I have a computer implant in my head,” said Honey, not at all self-consciously. “And according to Langley’s computers, it’s exactly 15:17. We’re missing some time. More than could be allowed for by different time zones.”

“So the bracelets’ transportation isn’t instantaneous,” said Walker.

“Or they’re preprogrammed to deliver us to a particular point in space and time,” I said.

“Oh, hell,” said the Blue Fairy. “I feel jet-lagged now.”

“A problem for another time,” I said firmly. “What are we going to do about Nessie? Shout, Hey, monster, we’re very important people on a tight deadline, so would you please get your scaly arse up here and talk to us ?”

“Please do that,” said the Blue Fairy. “I’d really like to see you do that.”

“Don’t be so negative,” said Honey. “We’re professionals. We can do this!”

Katt sniffed. “You would say that. You’re American. You can do anything.”

Honey smiled brightly at her. “Exactly!” She looked decisively out over the still and placid waters of the loch. Her hands were back on her hips again. “We could always lob in a few hand grenades and see if anything comes up to complain about the noise.”

We all winced, just a little. “Philistine!” hissed the Blue Fairy. “There’s been creatures here for hundreds of years, and you want to risk killing what might be the last one?”

“Typical CIA,” said Peter. “All brute force and ignorance.”

“Hey,” said Honey, entirely unaffected. “Don’t knock it if it works.”

“I still have contacts with the army and the navy,” said Walker. “A few words in the right ears, and I could have all manner of manpower and resources rushed up here . . . but that would take time, which we don’t have. And I rather think it’s part of Alexander King’s game that we’re supposed to do this on our own.”

“I have absolutely no problems with a little creative cheating,” said Peter. “Especially if it means we can get out of this cold one moment sooner.”

“Quite right, darling,” said Katt. “This is so not my professional venue. I flourish best in city streets.”

“Yes,” said Honey. “You do have the look of someone who should be walking the streets.”

“Girls, girls,” murmured Walker just a bit tiredly, while the Blue Fairy sniggered openly.

Peter kicked miserably at the ground again. “I just know I’m going to catch something. God, I’d kill for a Starbucks.”

I felt sorry for Peter. He was so clearly out of his element and out of his depth. Probably got his place in the contest only because his grandfather saw one last chance to make Peter over into the kind of grandson the Independent Agent should have had.

“I could go fishing for the monster,” the Blue Fairy said abruptly. “You have heard of my ability to go fishing in other dimensions? One of the few useful talents I inherited from dear absent Daddy and his rampant elven genes. I’ve never gone after anything this big before, but . . .”

I considered the Blue Fairy thoughtfully. He didn’t look like much, even with his new health and his somewhat damp Elizabethan finery, but I had seen him pull all kind of amazing things out of a dimensional pool he could conjure up. He caught me looking at him and smiled superciliously.

“I can handle anything I can sink my hook into these days. I learnt a lot during my time at the Fae Court under Queen Mab.”

“I thought the elves killed half-breeds on sight,” said Katt just a bit spitefully. “Breeding outside the species being their greatest taboo, after all.”

“Not when you come bearing gifts,” said the Blue Fairy, one hand rising very briefly to the golden torc around his throat.

Everyone looked at me. I looked right back at them until they got the message and changed the subject.

“Could you really fish the monster out of the loch?” Walker said to the Blue Fairy.

“Maybe,” said Blue. “But it would take time, and—”

Something stirred in the stunted shrubs nearby. We all spun around. Katt produced an impressively big gun from out of nowhere and fired a single shot in the direction of the noise. The shrubs all but exploded, and blood and fur flew on the air. The sound of the gun was shockingly loud in the quiet, echoing back from the surrounding hills. We all waited, on guard, but nothing else moved in the tattered shrubs at the side of the loch. Honey looked at Katt with new respect.

“Can I ask, where precisely did you produce that unnaturally large gun from?”

Katt smiled. “Please; allow a girl her little secrets.”

“I once knew a girl who had teeth in her—” said the Blue Fairy, and then shut up when I looked at him.

Walker was already poking through the ruins of the smouldering shrubs with the tip of his umbrella. He bent over to inspect something and then sighed, straightened up, and looked back at Katt.

“Congratulations, my dear. You have just exploded an otter.”

She shrugged and smiled prettily about her. “Sorry, darlings. Instinct.”

“Otters are a protected species, aren’t they?” said Peter.

“Not from me,” said Katt. Her gun had disappeared again. I had to wonder what else she might have hidden about her person. I wouldn’t have thought there was room for anything under a dress that tight; not even underwear.

The Blue Fairy produced a fishing rod and reel out of nowhere.

It looked battered and mended and much used, but he handled it with professional ease. “What do we think the monster is, anyway?” he said without looking up.

“It’s supposed to be some kind of dinosaur, isn’t it?” said Honey. “The last of its kind, preserved in a lake cut off from the rest of the natural world. The few photos I’ve seen all show a long neck and what might be the humps of an extended body.”

“I always hoped it would turn out to be a dragon,” said the Blue Fairy just a bit wistfully. “Not those nasty things the elf lords ride; I mean the real thing, from ages past, when there was still wild magic in the world . . .”

“You soppy old romantic, you,” I said.

“Maybe it’s an alien!” said Katt. “Descended from the crew of some crashed alien starship, long ago.”

“Could be some kind of elemental,” said Walker. “Which would explain why it never seems to look the same twice.”