Spygame: The Phoenix Enigma, #7

By Jay Aspen

The campaign against Avarit has once more torn Jac and Raine apart.

 

This time because he's officially dead and she's a spy at the heart of the new government.

Their fledgling democracy has already been threatened with invasion from abroad.

Even with Jac's perceptive skills and the courage and determination of Raine and his forest rangers, their chances don't look good.

 

But if there is unexpected help from new allies?

Well, maybe they're now in with a chance.

Even though they know the odds of everyone making it through the coming confrontation are slim.

 

Spygame is the seventh book in the Phoenix Enigma series, the dystopian romance epic from Jay Aspen.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sandfire Publishing Ltd
• Release date: Aug 14, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201284640

Jay Aspen

Jay writes from experiences in wilderness travel and extreme sports; snow peaks in the Andes, big walls in Yosemite and Baffin Island, sailing the Irish sea to photograph puffins and dolphins. A science degree and training with Himalayan shamans led to an interest in bio-psychology. She lives in the wild Welsh Borders, sings jazz, rides horses.

Book preview

Map of Future Britain

.

.

The only predictable thing about complex systems is that they are unpredictable.

Resistance Archives 1

The Warren

.

.

The City

.

.

.

Resistance Archives 7

.

After years of desperate struggle, the Resistance won the election that saw their own candidate, Cassandra Siries, installed as president. Now, instead of risking their lives to provide illicit food-banks and free clinics for exploited citizens, the outlaws’ dreams of rebuilding a fair and just society for everyone were about to come true.

Or so they thought.

The controlling Avarit faction had no intention of relinquishing power without a fight. In fact, without the help of Colonel Parry, the security forces’ section chief, the Resistance could not have protected voters when Avarit ordered the military to keep them out of the polling stations.

After the election Raine, the outlawed commander of the forest rangers, returned to his base at the Warren with most of his followers, guessing that his help would be needed before long.

DC, the leader of the Avarit faction, immediately requested military support from Avarit HQ on the other side of the ocean, in the western continent that was once called North America. He planned to use the threat of invasion in a ruthless attempt to wrest back control of this half-drowned island and its profits.

But there was already a strong Resistance movement in the New America––courageous teams resisting the Avarit takeover of their homeland. And now they were determined to take incredible risks to help their allies in other countries.

At this stage, no one knew how this new escalation in the power struggle might play out.

Meanwhile, Cass had to focus on the survival of her new government, knowing her best hope lay in the perceptive skills of her inconspicuous young secretary.

And Jac really wished she could have completed her psych-training before committing to her new role...

1

The second floor of the Dome had the smartest ladies’ washroom in the whole hideously over-decorated building that passed for a presidential palace, but Jac was not skulking in there to admire the gold-plated fittings. She glanced at her watch. All she wanted was another precious ten minutes of calm before enduring yet another tense session of government meetings. The strain of playing this double game was beginning to wear down her resilience.

She leaned on the polished washbasin, studying the face staring back at her from the mirror, wishing her ‘secretary’ disguise felt more than whisper-thin. If only she could identify more closely with her undercover persona, carefully invented for her newly-registered citizenship, she might convince herself this disguise felt more genuine. More reassuring.

Jacinta Tobin. Shallow, vain, ambitious. Determined to make the most of her unexpected job opportunity as minutes secretary to the new cabinet.

She pushed impatiently at a stray tendril of newly-tinted chestnut hair, forcing it back into the thin fashionable braids holding the hair extension draped across one shoulder. More blue shadow on her eyelids to deflect attention from her green eyes, another layer of bright red lipstick on her mouth. With luck it might change her appearance enough to deceive anyone who had seen her in the company of outlawed forest rangers.

Back in another life.

The new administration had given all outlaws official amnesty, except for well-known leaders like Raine and Pendrac. There simply had not been time to carefully refute all the faked evidence against them. Theoretically, someone as low-key as Jac should have been able to use her new citizenship and find employment––but Cass had warned her that her cover would be more convincing to the Avarit faction if her background was that of an ordinary Outland farmer with no previous connection to the Resistance.

And Cass ought to know, having been a high profile outlaw before being elected president only a few weeks previously––and yes, Cass was indeed regarded with deep suspicion by the unelected Avarit members of cabinet.

Jac needed a solid and unmemorable background story and a quiet, unobtrusive presence to go with it. Someone who would not be noticed or considered important. Her official posting as minutes secretary gave her access to all the key government meetings while her real job was to observe the members of the Avarit faction in the new coalition. If she could use her heightened sensitivity to the subtle nuances of their speech and mannerisms, she might be able to warn her friends if––or more likely when––they finally became exasperated by the loss of absolute power and planned to execute a military takeover.

Cass had already pushed her first priorities past their objections; the long-overdue repairs to hospitals, schools, roads, water and power supplies––and the resulting dip in personal profits was not going down at all well with the Avarit members who were accustomed to using the country’s revenues to support their own lavish lifestyles.

Jac dropped the cosmetics back in her bag and practiced her daily balancing routine for a few minutes, first on one foot and then the other. The tall slender heels and close-fitting skirt were a kind of unofficial uniform in this place and she needed every layer of disguise she could find if she wanted to remain inconspicuous among the smartly-dressed Avarit women she now had to mix with.

After a lifetime of hard farm work followed by a crash course in dodging bullets with the forest rangers, Jac’s feelings about her new footwear were not happy ones. These shoes were going to be awkward and useless if she had to run for her life at short notice.

She tried to remind herself that running was not really much of an option in a place like this anyhow.

Cass had anticipated that the death threats directed at everyone in the newly-elected administration could morph into deadly reality at any time. Bodyguards were now posted everywhere in the Dome to deal with potential attacks. The problem was that no one yet knew where the attacks might come from. The F2 terrorists were the likely perpetrators of the violent street muggings, just as they had been before the election, but two assassination attempts with long-range sniper rifles suggested there were now killers out there with skill and hi-tech weapons previously not seen among regular city thugs.

Jac removed one of her shoes and hefted it experimentally in one hand. Maybe if she was cornered she could bypass her non-violent conditioning long enough to swat an attacker with one of the spiked heels...

Not much use against guns.

She had found the urge to run sometimes overwhelming in the toxic atmosphere of cabinet meetings. She knew those meetings were emotionally draining on all the elected members as well, but to her own heightened lieth-sensitivity the animosity felt like an open door in a flood. She needed more experience in shielding her emotions, but her hopes of being granted leave for extra training had been put on hold by Avarit’s heavy hints of invasion. Their demands for their faction to be reinstated to exclusive power were becoming more ominous by the day.

Jac shrugged resignedly, replaced the shoe on her foot and walked to the door. She slipped outside into the broad corridor leading to the stateroom. It would be sensible to focus on the day’s cabinet discussion, away from the temptation to recall memories of a simpler life with the Resistance and those precious stolen moments alone with Raine.

Her whole body instantly relaxed as she drifted into thinking about how it felt to be close to him, the reassurance of strong arms around her, the calm way he seemed able to deal with difficult and dangerous situations, the love she could see in his deep brown eyes...

No... Concentrate on staying alert through this next meeting! One slip and you’ll give yourself away.

She glanced ahead down the corridor. The leader of the Avarit faction was standing a few yards ahead of her. He acknowledged her presence with a brief dip of his head and waited for her to catch up, as if he had just chanced to be passing.

Except that he always seemed to be around, wherever she went in this labyrinth of a building.

Ugh. Not again.

If she took a circular route to avoid going past him she would be late for the meeting. She forced herself to keep walking toward him, her eyes down, watching the carpet just in front of her feet.

In his late fifties, plump and white-haired, DC had a genial smile that overlaid a steely determination to get his own way in any negotiation. He was smiling now, looking her up and down, making no secret of the thoughts barely concealed beneath the scrutiny.

Jac paused to focus, preparing all her mental defenses for yet another difficult encounter. It had not taken long for her to sense past the apparently genial smile to the cool, reptilian calculations beneath it.

He sidled up to her. Jacinta. You changed your hair again.

Jac took a step back, her hand moving self-consciously to her new hairpiece. She kept her voice artificially bland.

Is it all right?

Of course it is my dear. Very nice. He touched it, leaving his hand on her neck for just a little too long. She smiled awkwardly and moved away, pretending her tablet had been slipping from her grasp. When she resumed her route to the stateroom DC kept pace.

His hand moved to the small of her back.

"How do you like your new job?

Oh, yes. Nicer than the last one.

Which was?

Accounts at the west side chicken factory.

"You have moved up in that case. How did you manage that? A relative in the new government perhaps?" His tone was smooth and casual but she knew only too well that he was committing every small detail to memory.

A friend recommended me for the new secretary post.

She kept her voice prim, carefully holding the shallow, self-interested persona she had been practicing for the past three weeks. "Most of these people have been living out in the forest and have no idea about record keeping."

DC looked mildly amused at the tone of superiority she had allowed to creep into the last statement. She had carefully echoed what she sensed were his own feelings about the new cabinet. Upstart incomers to whom he had been forced to concede power and control.

He seemed unable to resist adding his own comment.

Hmph. And now they think they can run the country.

So long as I keep my job.

Jac’s fake smile faded as he held the door for her and she had to squeeze past him to walk into the pearl-glass lit stateroom, her precarious heels clacking on the polished hardwood floor. She had almost erased the habit of thinking about the bloodstains so recently cleaned from it after the fight with Moris’ bodyguards. His last-ditch attempt to dispense with the election results that had displaced him.

Now the ex-president was residing in a high-security jail awaiting trial for murder––but an uneasy feeling at the back of Jac’s mind was asking if he would somehow evade justice. After all, his entire political career had been based on this particular ability.

No one was yet seated around the large oval table that dominated the stateroom. The members of the two distinct factions were talking informally in separate groups––although Jac noticed that most places for newly-elected members were marked by notes of apologies for absence.

Cass was making an effort to engage with one of the Avarit franchise representatives. The recent elections had seen First Minister Aldim replaced by an elected cabinet member, but Cass had appointed Aldim as Security Liaison in an attempt at coalition compromise, although the position did not include voting rights.

Unfortunately compromise seemed not to cut both ways.

Aldim smoothed down her crisp mauve business suit and made a show of pointedly looking the new president up and down. The body-language was clear. Cass’ deep blue slacks and jacket revealed an incorrect dress sense, proving she would be useless at her job. Jac noticed that Cass always chose shades only a few degrees brighter than the security forces’ blue-black military fatigues. Maybe a subtle warning to Aldim not to push the taunts too far. As if her height as well as her poise and strength from years of ranger training was not enough warning in itself.

So nice to work with you, Aldim purred smoothly. We had already been looking for a replacement for that idiot Moris. He had become far too prone to panic and rash actions to be any further use as president.

Jac held focus as long as she dared, hoping to pick up a few more details about the collection of evidence Aldim had been saving to blackmail ex-president Moris. If she could discover where the files were kept it might give Cass deeper insights into the off-books networks that had been running beneath the official Avarit administration for years.

Aldim had not found a suitable opportunity to use her leverage before Moris had been arrested and jailed on murder charges. That should have left the ex-minister frustrated and angry after all the wasted hard work, and those heightened emotions might give Jac just enough additional insight into the woman’s thoughts and motives.

Jac had already found that searching for detailed facts was far more difficult than her usual truthseer questing. With her perceptions attuned to someone’s feelings, or sudden reactions to certain topics, she had hoped to take advantage of the tension in these meetings. Unfortunately Aldim seemed to be a blank slate in the emotion department.

The new Security Liaison was proving to be a woman functioning on calculated ambition and little else.

2

Colonel Michael Parry clipped the memory capsule into the wall screen interface in his office and keyed the video to play. He watched the scenes unfold while glancing occasionally at the written description scrolling on his tablet, making sure that all records matched accurately before he ordered them to be lodged securely in the official archives.

.

Night at the Warren. Shadowed outlines of the rambling stone farmhouse and scattered barns glimmer softly in what little moonlight filters through the leaf-canopy of the surrounding forest. Within the silence an owl hoots, ghostlike in the distance.

Lights and howling gears rip through the forest darkness like the breaking of a summer storm. Military jeeps and transporters thrash across the narrow bridge and up the zigzag trail from the road, lurching to a halt outside the farm complex. Heavily armed troops leap out, surrounding the buildings, firing at random.

Within seconds, the sounds shift and change. Splintering high notes of breaking glass mingle with screams and panicked orders yelled across the darkness. The outlawed forest rangers rally to defend their home, positioning themselves at upstairs windows, trying vainly to give effective covering fire with only small arms and arrows against high-powered assault rifles.

Shadowy figures flank the sidelines under cover of the trees, following the leader they had trusted with their lives for so long. Raine races towards the sound of gunfire and watches from the corner of one of the barns, helpless to stop the slaughter playing out before his eyes.

Two enforcers fall to his arrows in spite of their bulky body-shielding but the ground in front of the farmhouse is already littered with the blood-soaked bodies of dead and dying rangers.

Raine looks up and sees his second in command perched at an upstairs window, loosing arrows in quick succession. Only one of Bel’s arrows finds its mark before a bullet hits her, throwing her like a broken doll onto the gravel below. She tries desperately to crawl to safety, dragging her useless bloody leg behind her.

Raine reaches out to stop the shadowy figure running past him, another of his followers frantically trying to reach the girl bleeding out on the ground. His effort to stop Karim fails as the young ranger shrugs aside the restraint––only to run directly into the line of automatic fire raking across his chest and throwing him onto the blood-soaked grass.

Seconds later a bullet finds Raine’s wrist, forcing the bow from his shattered hand.

.

Parry hit the pause key, freezing the stream of images for long enough to check that the faces of the three victims matched the records in the original Avarit archives. Satisfied, he keyed the vid to start again, watching as the camera panned to his own tall, angular outline standing at the edge of the fight.

.

Colonel Parry’s lean features remain impassive as he watches the slaughter. Two enforcers grab Raine’s arms and drag him across the carnage, forcing him to his knees. The two long-time adversaries stare at each other for a long moment.

Parry raises his handgun and shoots Raine through the head. Point blank. He walks away. The two soldiers who captured the outlaw commander follow him, their blue-black military fatigues quickly fading into the night shadows.

.

Parry’s hand hovered above the pause key for a moment before he decided to let it run. The written description might be somewhat over-dramatic but it would be adequate for now. He watched himself walk away past the camera. Once again, he checked the vid-detail on the faces of the two heavily armed enforcers following him.

Clearly lit and in focus. Kit and Luc, back in the military as if they had never deserted to join the Resistance. He would check later to ensure that part of their service record had been properly erased. If this vid footage came to light, it should serve to confirm any doubts anyone might have about their commitment to their enforcer roles.

The image cut to a uniformed security spokeswoman with neatly styled dark hair speaking from the front of the farmhouse in the aftermath of the battle.

.

A successful operation at the Warren led by Colonel Parry removed the threat from the last surviving outlaws––

.

Parry hit stop and the image of the spokeswoman froze. He checked the duration of the three-minute vid against the timing on his watch, then keyed to the call on his tablet with a sense of relief.

This will work. It has to.

Good result. Excellent. Why isn’t Pendrac dead as well?

The tablet screen framed his daughter’s pale face and long silver hair against a background of faded wall paintings glowing under soft blue-cream led-lights. Parry reminded himself for the hundredth time to think of her as Lissa Pontin, not Jess Parry. One mistake at the wrong moment might one day prove fatal for them both, now he was head of security for the new coalition government––while Lissa had stayed quietly outside the city with the Resistance in case the threatened trouble from Avarit was inflicted on them any time soon.

Parry’s hopes that the threats would never become reality were fading fast.

Lissa’s voice sounded slightly hollow across the newly-established relays linking the capital with brother Juniper’s monastery far to the north.

We were going to kill off Pendrac as well, but then we thought maybe if it got out of security archives and went public at the wrong time, people might despair. If it comes to the worst and there’s an Avarit takeover, we thought it might give people hope if they know the Resistance leader is still out there somewhere. So we just murdered the key people whose IDs were too widely published for Karim to be sure he could find them all and erase them. He already wiped and replaced all the records he found in the system––but there’s a chance that Moris had a secret backup somewhere. From the intel-frags that we both found in there, Moris didn’t trust anyone the whole time he was president,

Good point. Your editing?

Yes. Karim did the camera work and Evie did the bit where Karim got shot.

Karim squeezed onto the seat beside Lissa’s wheelchair, his dark hair and eyes a contrast to her pale features and silver hair.

Parry gave a nod of approval. Nice work, Karim.

Thank you, sir. Actually it was a lot of fun. If you want any more done––

I’ll let you know. Parry noticed how close to his daughter the young tech-expert was sitting and failed to repress a smile. Lissa’s life was definitely moving on since he had found her again. She had been missing for so long. And working secretly with the Resistance the whole time he had been searching for her.

Maybe one day these recurring crises would be over and they could finally spend quality time together. Then perhaps he could get to know her again, as the skilled, independent adult she had become.

It was looking like he might need to get to know Karim better as well. It was impossible not to like the irrepressible tech genius in spite of his exasperating inability to follow orders.

Karim slipped an arm around his girlfriend’s waist.

Lissa is really good at this! Those additional clips Bel brought us a couple of weeks ago with you and Raine doing your execution-murder thing outside the city fence––I couldn’t match them into the Warren footage but she got the light levels adjusted straight away.

Parry’s brow furrowed at the reminder of how that single gunshot had felt. However carefully faked, acting-out the cold-blooded murder of the ranger commander who was now his main ally would always haunt his memory.

Let’s hope we won’t actually need that vid, but splice it into the security archives, as soon as you can.

Karim suddenly looked serious. Any developments?

Parry needed no extra detail about which developments Karim was referring to. The danger was on everyone’s mind right now.

More threats of invasion unless we hand over total control to the Avarit faction. A few days ago they asked again for military backup from their HQ on the western continent. At least, I assume that’s where an invasion force is likely to come from. They have headquarters on all the remaining habitable continents but with Europe still dealing with so many refugees from its southern regions It’s unlikely they’ll be able to spare any forces from there.

Did you find out how they are managing their long-distance communications?

Parry gave a huff of impatience. No. That intel is what maintains the power of a global syndicate like Avarit. Almost certainly a closely guarded secret among the small group of power-brokers who live on the Circle. I always assumed they were delivering memory capsules via the few ships that bring luxury imports for them––but the recent exchanges have been too rapid for that.

Karim keyed his tablet, bringing a map of the flooded coastline onto Parry’s screen.

Raine had a theory that they had accessed the old transatlantic cable after all the satellites went down. But the archives were too vague about the location of the terminals and the search-teams of rangers he sent out didn’t find anything.

It occurred to Parry that if the forest rangers had spent less time and effort trying to escape from his own missions to hunt and kill them, they might have had more success in tracking down the key to Avarit’s global power.

No point dwelling on what’s past. Now we have to find ways to work together if we’re to survive what’s coming.

He turned back to the conversation, making a snap decision not to mention that he would have to recall both Karim and Lissa to the city very soon.

Let them enjoy what freedom they can, while they have the chance.

The coalition here gets more precarious every day. So we’re preparing. I’m getting the military trained to communicate more closely with the first few ranger units that have been seconded to the city––but it’s complicated. I’ve had to recall Raine from the Warren for the second time in three weeks.

So who’s going to be in command at the Warren if Raine has to relocate to the city?

"Just a caretaker crew until Bel gets back from helping you. Almost all the rangers are out in the forest trying to get this escalation in