CODA Spy

Eighteen-year-old CODA Maggie Anders, precariously balanced between the hearing and Deaf worlds, has her life upended when the FBI recruits her to spy.

In 1983 Washington, D.C., during the height of the Cold War, 18-year-old Maggie is a certified interpreter and the only hearing member of her Deaf family. When a friend’s mother dies under suspicious circumstances, Maggie is recruited to help the FBI expose a suspected mole by interpreting for a Deaf intern inside the Department of Energy. But secrets run deep, and Maggie’s mission may cost her more than the truth.

Excerpt from CODA Spy

“We’re going to use flashlights,” he signed as he handed me one. “You will be placing listening devices in all the telephones, just like you practiced yesterday.” Yesterday morning Henry had introduced me to the wonderful world of FBI gadgets and had instructed me on the ones he thought I might need. Bugs and their placement in telephones had been included.

Tyler handed me a box of about 20 of the tiny listening devices. They were each about the size of a pencil eraser. Amazing that there was that much technology in such a tiny object.

“Cool. What are you going to do?”

“I’ve got some other devices to install.” He held up a gadget that was bigger than my cute little bugs; it was closer to the size of a quarter, but thinner. “This goes on Alex’s TTY. It’ll record every key stroke. Oh, and you still have to install one of your bugs in his phone, too. That way we get all the typing and all the speaking.”

We separated, using our flashlights sparingly, and I started on my assignment. At first my hands were shaking so much that I couldn’t get the mouthpieces unscrewed on the phone handsets, but after a couple of deep breaths I settled down and focused on my job. Tyler poked his head in and checked on me every five minutes or so. He was due to check on me any second.

I was in the last of the interns’ cubicles, replacing the mouthpiece on the last of the telephones, when I heard a rattling at the door to the hallway. I dropped to my knees and peeked around the cubicle wall in time to see the door swing open. I jumped back into the cubicle and looked around frantically. I had no idea where Tyler went between check-ups.

I slinked as quietly as I could under the desk I was closest to, hoping I would be hidden from the beam of light that the guard was brandishing. At least he hadn’t turned on the overhead lights. Yet.

I concentrated on breathing as shallowly as possible so I wouldn’t make any sound. I kept peeking out of the cubicle trying to spot Tyler or his flashlight, but I couldn’t make out anything.

I strained my ears, trying to follow the guard’s progress. The carpet in these offices was thick, muffling any footsteps. I held my breath in an attempt to hear the guard.

It didn’t help. I couldn’t hear anything. In fact, it was eerily quiet. Goose bumps chased each other up my arms.

“What the hell?!” The watchman’s loud expletive caused my breath to explode out of my chest and at the same time a bright light pummeled my eyes. I covered my eyes with my hand.

“Who the hell are you? What the hell are you doing here?” He lowered his flashlight and I blinked furiously but all I could see were black and white spots.

I did the only thing I could think of: I pointed to my ears and shook my head. And then I started signing. I’m not sure exactly what I signed but I must have been convincing.

“You can’t hear?” He started yelling. “You’re deaf? We’ll see about that!”

He gestured to me to stand up and reached his hand under my arm to help me, jerking me roughly. He didn’t let go of my arm. 

“Come on. You’re coming with me and then I’m gonna call my boss. You’re in big trouble, missy.”

I struggled a bit, mostly acting in order to convince the guard. He wasn’t a big man, only an inch or two taller than me and of medium build. I thought I could overpower him using the MMA techniques that Tyler had taught me, but I didn’t think it would be wise. At least, not yet. 

Where was Tyler? Had he abandoned me? If not, where was he? What was going to happen if the police came? What if I was arrested? 

I tried to breathe and tamp down the questions that were mushrooming in my brain. I needed my mind clear so I could think. And continue my Deaf impersonation.

We reached the end of the hall and the guard opened a door to a small office. He pointed to a chair, let go of my arm, and shoved me towards it. I sat in it, rubbing my arm, visualizing the hand-shaped bruise I would soon have. I was sitting across from a small desk with another chair behind it. The guard sat down and picked up the telephone receiver from the desk.

“You’re in big trouble, missy.” He was dialing as he spoke. 

Ka-boom! An explosive noise in the hallway made me jump. The guard slammed down the phone, stretched his hand out at me and yelled, “Don’t move!”