SPY STORIES COLLECTION

  CONNOR WHITELEY

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  Copyright © 2023 CONNOR WHITELEY

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  DEDICATION

  Thank you to all my readers without you I couldn’t do what I love.

  Table of Contents

  Copyright Page

  A SPY IN ROME

  OUR WOMAN IN PARIS

  MYSTERY AND CRIME IN SPACE

  THE 12:30 TO ST PANCRAS

  A MOST UNFORTUNATE CASE OF SPYNAPPING

  A SPY IN ROME

  11: 45 pm

  Rome, Italy

  MI6 Officer Zoey Haze stepped out of the little internet café and onto the wonderfully warm cobblestone street outside with the only light daring to illuminate the street (even though most countries like the UK or America would have called it an alley in fact) was spewing of the dirty windows of the internet café.

  A bunch of motorbikes were to her left and looked like they had been parked in a hurry against the dark, graffiti-covered walls of the buildings that lined the alley, but in reality the motorbikes had just been parked in a way that was considered so-called normal for this rather shady area of Rome.

  Zoey wasn’t exactly impressed or even wanted to be in this area but she had a job to do and that was definitely what she was focusing on instead of how awful this neighbourhood was.

  She was really glad now that she had gone the extra mile to play the part of the poor tourist that had just wanted to come to Rome for the fun of it. Zoey made sure to wear a crop-top that showed off her figure very well, some pink short shorts that she never ever would have dared wear in public and she had a bright pink handbag. Containing her gun, fake passport and some fake money just in case she needed it.

  Zoey had a feeling if she stayed in this part of Rome for too long after midnight then she was definitely going to have to use her combat training to stop some tourists from feeling her up a little too much. There were a bunch of them out tonight sadly.

  But even the smell was flat out awful for this part of Rome. Something that Zoey really loved how Rome was the constantly delightful smell of warm air, fresh pizza and pasta that infused the air with such intensity that the smell alone summed up Italy perfectly to Zoey. And she loved it. Rome really was the best city in the entire world to Zoey.

  This shady part of Rome simply smelt of horribly cheap foreign beer and coffee.

  But the real problem with this shady part of Rome was that unlike most other wonderfully breath-taking Mediterranean cities that was alive and thriving late into the night, everything in this area just seemed to close up shop (literally) before 9 pm.

  Zoey had walked round for about an hour trying to find somewhere that was open and she could subtly access her MI6 emails and her further information for tonight’s operation.

  The sound of distant honking, beeping and talking came from hundreds of metres away near the main roads, something that this rather pathetic little alley was never ever going to be. But Zoey supposed that because of how narrow and relatively straight the alley was, the noise must have carried.

  And that would actually be rather perfect in case enemy agents or someone started to run up the alley towards her.

  Zoey checked her watch again and really looked forward to the great operation that was meant to happen tonight, when she was going to meet an informant from the Italian Government and give her a USB stick filled with classified data and other information about what the Italians were up to. Zoey had no idea why her bosses wanted the information so badly, but she did what she was told.

  And that was her sole reason for staying in this shady area, because it was the closest she could get to the British Embassy without having to pay the ridiculously expensive rates that the Italian government imposed around that area.

  Granted she wasn’t paying a penny for her accommodation but as a taxpayer herself, she didn’t want MI6 to spend her tax money on paying for an overpriced room for her.

  The distant sound of heavy footsteps made Zoey smile and her stomach fill with butterflies as she really, really hoped that this was her informant coming to give her the information.

  Zoey was tempted to nip back into the excuse of an internet café, that was nothing more than a couple of rows of computers and a broken vending machine and an extremely bitter coffee machine, so she could see if her informant was alone before she revealed herself. Yet the snobbish young woman that was working tonight was already staring at her after examining what Zoey had been doing on the computer.

  Thankfully Zoey’s computer skills were ace so at least the young woman wouldn’t see anything she wasn’t meant to.

  Instead Zoey went over to the group of motorbikes and pretended to inspect them like she owned them as she saw three very tall and extremely serious looking men walk up to the internet café.

  All three men were wearing black leather jackets that must have been boiling in the heat, black business trousers and they all had a gun at their waist. The guns weren’t on show but Zoey recognised the slightly awkward walk of people carrying guns on their waist that weren’t used to carrying the little piece of extra weight. It had taken Zoey three months to master walking with the extra weight and now it didn’t bother her but clearly these men were new.

  Zoey focused on them for a moment and realised they weren’t Italians. They lacked the beautiful facial symmetry that most Italians had and these men were almost ghostly white, definitely not like most hot Italian men.

  “Glad we killed him,” one of the men said in perfect Russian. “He lied to us,”

  Zoey made sure to look like she was preparing to drive one of the motorbikes away. Now she was quickly starting to realise wearing bright pink wasn’t a good idea.

  It wouldn’t be long until the Russians looked at her properly.

  “The man didn’t lie. She is here. She is a Brit and we have her precious techie information. She will come to us,” another Russian said.

  Zoey hated to admit it but he was right. She needed the information and if he had it then she at least needed to try. She supposed she could simply go to the British Embassy and tell them about the Russians but that wasn’t her.

  She always wanted to get the job done.

  “Let’s ask her,” the last Russian said.

  Zoey forced herself not to tense. She had to be careful here.

  “Excuse Miss?” he asked in perfect Italian.

  Zoey looked around but acted confused.

  “She must be foreign,” the other two said in Russian.

  “Hello Miss,” the last Russian said in English with a thick accent. “We are looking for a British woman, a friend of ours. Have you seen her?”

  It was in moments like these where normal non-spies might have froze or something, but Zoey simply looked unsure and gave herself a French accent.

  “No Monsieur, et I would have slapped the English bitch if I had,”

  The Russians laughed but then their gaze got very focused.

  “How did you know we were looking for an English woman?” the Russians asked as one.

  Zoey smiled at them and sighed like she was defeated and they were so smart for catching up.

  The Russians smiled and the tallest of the three got out a small black USB stick that Zoey had no doubt contained both her information and some Russian malware added in for good measure, but she still needed it.

  “That’s where it’s gone,” Zoey said like she had suddenly found a pair of missing keys.

  The Russians whipped out their guns.

  “Down the street now,” they said.

  Zoey just shook her head and gestured to her handbag. “Can I smoke on the way?”

  The Russians looked unsure for a moment.

  “Do you all want one?” Zoey said, like they were all impossible idiots.

  They all nodded and lowered their guns a little. The idiots. Zoey opened her handbag and wrapped her fingers around the gun.

  She whipped it out.

  Zoey shot each of them in the head.

  Zoey heard shouting in Russian. The idiots had friends.

  Zoey grabbed the USB stick off the corpse. She ran in the opposite direction of the shouting.

  She had to get to the British Embassy.

  Zoey’s feet pounded in the cobblestones. She kept running up the alley. She saw the main road ahead.

  Three figures stepped out. Aiming their guns.

  Zoey didn’t stop. She fired at them.

  Two corpses dropped.

  The last one knelt on the ground. She hit his leg.

  Zoey kept running. She jumped into the air. Kicking him in the head.

  He was unconscious.

  Bullets smashed into the buildings around her. The Russians behind her were catching up.

  Zoey hooked a right. She kept running next to a massive main road. Tens of large cars zoomed up and down next to her.

  She recognised the road. The embassy was close. Zoey kept going. More bullets smashed around her.

  People screamed. Ran. Jumped for cover.

  Zoey shouted at them in Italian to move. She knocked people to the ground.

  Police sirens filled the air. The cars on the main road slowed to let the police pass.

  The Russians weren’t firing. They were probably gone. They had probably told the police she was a criminal.

  The police were after her.

  Zoey kept running next to the main road. Shops now lined the path. People jumped out of her way.

  A police car drove towards her.

  It drove up on the path.

  It stopped.

  Zoey jumped over the hood. She kept running.

  Hooking a right.

  She ran down a massively long straight cobblestone road. The British Embassy was at the end. It looked like a fortress with its black fences. Zoey didn’t care.

  The black gates were open. Zoey was happy. Zoey legged it.

  Police sirens screamed in her ears.

  She heard the police cars thunder towards her.

  Zoey was tiring. She couldn’t run much longer.

  A bullet ripped into her shoulder.

  Zoey screamed. She slowed. She had to keep running.

  British Soldiers lined up at the gates of the Embassy.

  They were aiming at her. Or the police. She couldn’t tell.

  Zoey was so close. She took out her passport.

  A bullet ripped into her other shoulder.

  She fell to the ground.

  Zoey forced herself to look at the police cars. They were so close. She was about to get caught.

  She couldn’t stop now. Her country needed her.

  Zoey forced herself up.

  An Italian cop grabbed her.

  Zoey whacked him across the face. Kicking him in the nuts. He screamed.

  Zoey legged to the Embassy gates.

  A British Soldier placed his hands out to stop her.

  Zoey stopped and stared at him. “I am MI6 officer Zoey Haze. I have critical intelligence. I need to come in. Now!”

  The Italian police cars stopped, poured out of their cars and had their weapons drawn on Zoey.

  The British Soldier nodded, grabbed Zoey’s arm (which seriously hurt her shoulder) and pushed her inside.

  A very serious and elderly Italian cop walked up to the very edge of the embassy gate and stared at the British Soldier who had just left Zoey into the gates.

  This was where things could seriously turn ugly.

  The Italian cop coughed before he spoke. “This woman is an enemy of Italy and she is a wanted murderer. She had killed three innocent tourists in an alley and she had stolen property of the Italian Government. If you-”

  The British Soldier waved him silent and Zoey just knew it was best to stay silent here, because of international law the land the British Embassy was on belonged to Britain. Invading the Embassy would be like invading the UK and it would be an act of war, she (and hopefully the soldiers knew) that the cop was simply trying to intimidate the soldiers into handing her over.

  All the British Soldiers straightened their backs and frowned at the cop.

  The British Soldier in charge just stared coldly at the cop. “It is my mission by UK Government to protect all British Citizens in your country. This woman is a British Citizen and she falls under my jurisdiction. She belongs to us and you cannot have her,”

  Zoey let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. She seriously loved that soldier in that moment.

  The cop swore under his breath for a moment and waved his hands. All the other cops and police cops drove away slowly and were clearly annoyed.

  Now all the excitement was over Zoey let jolts of sheer agony shoot through her like new bullets as the adrenaline and panic of the situation had worn off.

  The British Soldier in charge came over to her. “Madam what do you need?”

  Zoey smiled. “Get me a call to MI6 now and I need a doctor,”

  The Soldier saluted and led Zoey away hopefully to a medical room and she had to see what was so important on this USB stick.

  Something she just hoped was worth all this trouble.

  ***

  1:00 am

  Rome, Italy

  Zoey sat in an awfully warm wooden chair in a bright white corridor just outside the large hospital room in the embassy. It was a pretty standard corridor as far as Zoey was concerned with nothing more than a few fake plants, some flickering lights (that was probably some form of payback from the Italians for not handing her over so they were messing with the power supply) and an empty wooden desk that was meant to serve as some kind of medical administration stuff, but Zoey hadn’t seen anyone at it tonight.

  Zoey was really pleased actually that the myth about Embassies not having medical supplies and mini-hospitals was completely false. And it actually had to be because if a Prime Minister or member of the British Government was attacked on Italian soil then they would have to be treated here first. Then maybe moved if it was appropriate to an Italian hospital.

  Zoey was just glad they were so well supplied, and it was even better that the bullets had been flesh wounds and hadn’t damaged the bone at all.

  And it was flat out amazing that the smell of freshly brewed tea, buttery Scottish shortbread and creamy sweet Victoria sponge cake filled the air. Clearly someone in the embassy liked to bake at late hours in the night and Zoey wasn’t complaining. It made the embassy smell amazing.

  The sound of heavy footsteps made Zoey carefully look around and she was surprised to see a very senior female MI6 Officer wearing a great business suit walk towards her.

  Zoey wanted to stand but she couldn’t be bothered, and she had just been shot twice so she wanted to blame her lack of respect (as some would see it) down to that.

  “Thank you for your suggestion about being wary of plugging in your USB stick,” the senior woman said. “It did contain a lot of Russian and Chinese malware. Thankfully not a single file though was touched,”

  Zoey was relieved. At least the British now had all the information they wanted but she was a little surprised that the Chinese and Russians were working together on whatever they were up to in Rome.

  “What was the mission?” Zoey asked.

  The senior woman smiled. “The Stick contained copies of the Italian government’s findings of surveillance on Russian warships in the Mediterranean sea and near other NATO coastlines. It shows a lot of Russian forces in the region and they were clearly waiting for something,”

  “Like they were preparing to strike something. And I’m guessing the Italians were not willing to share the information,” Zoey said.

  The senior woman nodded. “We aren’t sure. But now we know there are a lot of Russians in the area, we can try to figure that out. And no the Italians were not. It wasn’t their fault really if you catch my drift,”

  Zoey simply nodded. It wasn’t exactly a well-kept secret about how much the British Government were annoying the rest of Europe with their constant moaning, petty demands and criticising. So it was hardly surprisingly some European governments didn’t want to cooperate with the British just to give them something to actually moan about.

  “Thank you Agent Haze. You’ve done well today and your country thanks you. If you are willing, you will be transported by diplomatic car to the airport and you’ll return to the UK for a few months before your next mission,” the senior woman said.

  Zoey smiled. It might have sounded like she had been benched for technically blowing her cover because the Italian police and security services probably had her photo and she was now a known spy. But she knew she wasn’t, she would be out in the world again in a few months, traveling, fighting and helping to protect the amazing country and people she loved.

  Being a spy might have been the most risk-free job in the entire world, but Zoey absolutely loved it and there wasn’t a single thing she would rather be, and she couldn’t wait to go out again.

  And that made her feel pretty great about herself, her country and the world.

  OUR WOMAN IN PARIS

  August, 1941

  Paris, France

  MI6 Spy Victoria Oxley leant against the cold black lamppost on a street corner near central Paris and just watched all the horrible sights around her. She normally loved Paris before the war with its beautiful bakeries, clothing store and people with such amazing character that she actually never wanted to leave here.

  But that was a long, long time ago.

 

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