The Spy Who Loves Me Read Online Free Page A

computer-modulated command.
    â€œRobinson, Amber,” she said, stepping closer for the retinal scan.
    A burst of light, and then the voice again: “Accepted.” The heavy door slid open with a gentle whoosh, and she stepped through, waiting in the anteroom while Brandon completed the same process behind her. After a few seconds, the door whooshed open again, and he entered. Amber fought a grin. “They let anybody in this place these days.”
    â€œRiff-raff,” Brandon agreed. “A tragic commentary on our times.” He cocked his head forward. “Come on. He’s waiting.”
    Another door—this one heavy oak, not steel—and then they were in the main briefing room. Thirteen chairs surrounded an oblong mahogany table, each empty except for one. Roderick Schnell sat at the head of the table, a file folder open in front of him. A lean man with salt and pepper hair, Schnell gave the appearance of a corporate executive about to head up a board meeting. Only Schnell was no corporate schmo. The man had dissident leaders killed before the Washington Post even knew they existed, and he organized coups with more style and flair than Martha Stewart ever dreamed of.
    Amber stood, Brandon beside her, while Schnell finished reading. He looked up, and after he nodded toward the chairs, they sat.
    â€œSo there’s a fly in our ointment,” Schnell said, without preamble.
    â€œCould be,” Amber said. “We’ve done a preliminary background check and he seems to be civilian, but—”
    â€œBut he’s watching Ms. Traynor.” Schnell’s hands rested on the file folder, his fingers steepled. “That certainly raises questions.”
    â€œI want authorization to move in closer,” she said. “Find out what this guy’s up to.”
    â€œWe can’t compromise the surveillance of Traynor.”
    â€œNo, sir,” Amber agreed. “That’s why I’d like to request reassignment for Brandon. Have him help me out.”
    Schnell had already turned to Brandon, clearly having anticipated the request. “Kline?”
    â€œI have no problem with reassignment.” He flashed a smile that was uniquely Brandon. “I even emailed Linus. A new assignment requires new equipment.”
    Amber hid her own grin. Linus Klondike’s gadgets were famous within the intelligence community, and Brandon never missed a chance to check out the latest fruits of Klondike’s tinkerings.
    â€œVery well,” Schnell said, his tone even. He closed the file folder as he looked from Amber to Brandon. “Authorization granted.”
    Amber stood, then paused.
    Her hesitation wasn’t lost on Schnell. “Is there something else?”
    She drew in a breath, considering. Final authority for all the Unit’s missions came from Schnell, so it wasn’t as if she needed James’s approval. But, even so…“I still haven’t been able to contact James. Has he been informed of my reassignment?”
    â€œThe message has been dispatched,” Schnell said, which wasn’t really an answer, but Amber knew it was as much as she was going to get. Oh well. If James was pissed that he’d been kept out of the loop, she’d deal with that later. In the meantime, she trusted that Schnell knew what he was doing.
    â€œIs there something else?” Schnell asked.
    â€œNo, sir.”
    Schnell’s smile was dismissive. “Then I’ll let you two get back to work.”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    The Unit was located in one of Los Angeles’s many high rises, purportedly doing business as a legitimate publishing company. Brandon went out the back, but Amber exited toward the front, stepping out into the main offices.
    The floor was lined with windowed offices, the interior filled with cubicles housing men and women hunched over computers. They all received paychecks from the publisher; they all worked for the Unit.