Never Call Her A Spy

Never Call Her A SpyA Carlsbad Village Lesbian RomanceSabrina Kane Copyright © 2023 Sabrina KaneAll rights reservedThe characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.ISBN-13: 9781234567890ISBN-10: 1477123456Cover design by: Sabrina Kane, Countess of CarlsbadLibrary of Congress Control Number: 2018675309Printed in the United States of America Books by Sabrina KaneThe Carlsbad Village Lesbian Romance Series: Nothing But a FlingA Matter of TrustFalling for Jillian AshleyA Long List of FirstsNo More Wasted TimeSeven Days to ForeverStarting Forever in ParadiseForever Under SkinRhymes with CoupleProudly San DiegoNever Has She EverNever Call Her A SpyThe Before and After of Molly BaldwinThe Cornwall Lesbians Series:What to Bring to Your Ex-Girlfriend’s WeddingWhat Comes After OneWhat To Do Outside Tremont Never Call Her A SpyA Carlsbad Village Lesbian RomanceBy Sabrina Kane PrologueXandria hurriedly searched the dead man’s pockets, starting with his pants.Where is it? Where is it? Where is it?She knew time was short, she could sense it. Given the number of years she’d been in this game, her sense for when shit was about to go down was highly tuned. Collingwood, her mentor at The Division, had told her this job had the tendency to awaken mostly dormant primal instincts that could detect dangers others couldn’t see. Instincts still hardcoded in our DNA, from when our ancestors roamed an Earth full of sabre-toothed tigers and shit like that.Right now, she could feel the skin on her back tingling along her spine. That was her primal warning system.Yep, shit was about to go down.The pants pockets yielded only the man’s keys, a handkerchief, and some loose change—two 25 kurus, and a 50 kurus.Fuck, where did you put it?She had seen the exchange, the moment—just minutes ago—when Scheffler had been handed the item at the train station, but she hadn’t marked where he had placed it on his person. Forgivable. After all, the train station had been crowded, and it was all she could do just to keep Scheffler in sight.She checked the breast pocket of his shirt next, just above the hole marking where she had ended his life with a single, silenced shot from her Beretta.Collingwood would have been proud of her marksmanship.Next, she checked the inner pocket of his tweed blazer.She felt something!Extracting it, she saw it was a tiny plastic bag, the kind small amounts of drugs are often sold in. Instead of an illegal narcotic, however, this bag contained a microSD card.Bingo!“Got it,” she said softly, knowing the microphone in her almost invisible earpiece was sensitive enough to pick up her voice.“Thank fuck,” another voice sounded in her ear. It was Jacobs, who was serving as what she called her geek support. He was stationed in a hotel room several miles away. His job was to monitor the emergency radio channels just in case whatever she did ended up catching the attention of the local police. He had also hacked into İzmir’s traffic control system. In the event she ended up driving a car, he could ensure she had green lights all the way to safety, although how much help that would provide on Turkey’s hellish road was debatable.If things really turned to shit, he could also summon additional field support for her that would either help her in case she was captured or injured, or—the priority—at least make sure the microSD card left Turkey, with or without her.Jacobs was a good man. A little high-strung, but good at his job. “Get the hell out of there. See you at the extraction point.”“First round’s on you,” Xandria said, standing.Then…Zip…zing! Zip…zing!Xandria ducked as two bullets fired from a silenced weapon slammed into the wall of the hotel hallway, just missing her head. She had tailed Scheffler here from the train station, but she hadn’t noticed anyone else following them.Why?Getting sloppy…She had her Beretta back in her hand instantly and, just as two more shots barely missed her, fired off a single shot, killing the rather large man who had been shooting at her.At least I can still shoot…“Xandria, what was that?” Jacobs asked, evidently hearing the commotion.“Our competitors are here,” she told him, already running towards the nearest staircase.The Division had been alerted that there would be other interested parties wanting what Scheffler had, and apparently that intel had been correct. It was why she had chosen to dispatch Scheffler here in the hallway of the hotel, rather than waiting to see which room he went into. If she had, who knows how many unfriendlies she would have had to contend with? Fortunately, this place was one of those fleabag establishments common in İzmir, the type where the people who rented rooms tended to stay in their rooms.No sooner had she opened the door to the staircase and started heading down, when machine gun fire from below erupted, the bullets carving out chunks from the old plaster wall. This time, whoever was shooting wasn’t even attempting to be subtle by using a silencer. Apparently, they didn’t care if anyone heard the shooting, which meant the gloves were off.Without bothering to return fire, Xandria retreated back up the three steps she had traveled down, reopened the staircase door, and was instantly met by more bullets whizzing past her.Back in the staircase, she started sprinting up because, well, at least there were no bullets coming from above. She kept as close to the wall as possible while she climbed because she was still being shot at from below.I’m getting too old for this…To think that there were people—a good many of them women—who were sitting safely on a beach, sipping margaritas, and watching the waves roll in as the warm sunshine caressed their bodies.That could be what she could be doing now instead of this.She