How I Met Your Mother: A Long Weekend

Dublin

Wednesday evening

Sitting in a hire car in a secluded side street, Keira realized that her latest target wasn't going to be as easy to take care of as the corporate executive she had killed in Monte Carlo less than a week ago. The office where Henry Rice worked as a one of Europe’s most well versed trial lawyers were very large, so the chances of finding him alone there were very slim. She knew from the paperwork Jacob had provided her that Rice was a creature of habit; and it was his habit to stop for a drink at a particular bar on the way home from his office most evenings. Keira decided she would find the lawyer in his bar, and see if she could persuade him to leave with her. Once she had him alone, his fate would be sealed.

The bar was the typical lawyers-after-work kind of place. It was the type of place where there were lots of power meetings, judicial gossip, and high priced advice. This is where they gathered to celebrate their victories, and lick their wounds. Keira stepped into the bar, and immediately drew the attention of most of the men, and some of the women too. She scanned the crowd for Rice. He was seated at the bar, facing her, with a drink in hand. Keira favoured him with her sexiest smile as they made eye contact.

She spotted an empty booth, and casually made her way over to it. As she slid into the booth, she made sure to give him the best view of her legs, while continuing to smile at him as they exchanged eye contact. A waitress appeared and placed a drink on Keira’s table.

"Compliments of the gentleman at the bar," she said. Keira thanked her, and lifting her glass, smiled and nodded in the direction of Henry Rice. That was all the encouragement he needed. He had already started to make his way over to her table, before she even put her drink down. From the file she had been provided, Keira knew that he liked to think of himself as a real ladies man and that had provided her with her inspiration as to how to get him alone.

“May I join you?” Henry asked as he finally reached the table she was sitting at. Keira smiled.

"Please do."

"I haven't seen you in here before." Henry said as he slid into the booth.

"You haven't seen me in here before because this is the first time I've been here.” Keira explained. “I was at a meeting close by and decided to get a drink before I headed home for the evening." She explained.

"Well, I'm glad you decided to stop by while I was here,” Rice added. “I have a very good feeling about you and I think we could be very good together." Keira cringed on the inside, thinking to herself that he couldn't be more wrong.

As they spent some time talking about his work, his house, and his car, Keira realised that she could barely contain her total distain for Henry Rice and his general demeanour. In many ways his lack of humility, coupled with an inability to listen to anything other than the sound of his own voice, mirrored that of Simon Aston. His ego is so big, she thought, it's amazing that the booth could contain all three of them!

Keira decided that she couldn't take much more of his obsequious behaviour, so she slid off one of her stiletto’s and began to slide her foot up the inside of Rice’s trouser leg. He couldn’t restrain the knowing smile as he leaned into her.

“Would you like to go someplace quieter? Somewhere we could get to know each other…better?” The line was so cliché that Keira almost choked on her drink. She managed to nod in agreement, gathering her jacket and following Rice out of the bar.

“I’m afraid my car is being serviced at the moment,” Keira said as she pulled a scarf out of her purse to shield her hair from the drops of rain that were beginning to fall. “I don’t live too far from here if you don’t mind driving.”

“Of course not,” Rice said. “My car is just around the corner.” He put his arm around her and guided Keira to his vehicle – a recent model BMW with personalised license details. Once inside, she directed him to drive towards the east side of the city, explaining that she lived in one of the new developments that had recently been completed. The reality was that Keira was taking him to a location she had scouted out the previous day with a very specific purpose in mind.

As they shared small talk throughout the duration of the drive, Henry couldn’t help but marvel at the ease with which he’d charmed this woman. With her auburn hair and trim figure he had to admit to himself that he’d struck the jackpot this time.

Who knows, with luck she might be more than just a one-night stand.

Fifteen minutes later, as they approached the newly built apartment blocks that dominated the skyline of the eastern part of the city. Keira directed him to park behind one of the buildings in a small service ally.

“We’ll go in through the back way,” Her voice was barely more than a whisper. “That way we won’t be disturbed.” Keira reached into her bag as she got out of the car and pulled out a set of keys. As Henry got out of his side, Keira made something of a performance of dropping the keys and contrived to kick them under the car. "I can’t believe it," she said, looking over the roof of the car at Henry. "I've dropped my keys and now they're under your car!"

"It’s not a problem," Henry replied enthusiastically. "I'll get them for you." He bounced around to her side of the vehicle side and crouched down to see if he could reach them. His fingers were about 2 inches away from them, so he got onto his knees in order to extend his reach.

As he did so, Keira quickly removed her scarf from her head and stepped over Henry so she was straddling him. In the blink of an eye she slipped the scarf over Henry's head and pulled it tight against his throat. Immediately Henry tried to pull the scarf away, and when he discovered he couldn't, he tried to stand up. Keira was slightly faster though, placing her knee in the middle of his back and pushing him down against the ground, increasing the tension on the scarf around his throat.

Keira could hear a rasping gasp escaping from Henry’s mouth as he struggled to breathe. In his suddenly tight, constricted world, Henry could hardly believe what was happening. He knew if he didn't find a way out of this quickly, he was dead. He tried to roll to his side to release the increasing pressure on his windpipe, Keira counted jerking his head in the opposite direction. His vision was beginning to blur and the pain in his chest was building as he felt the tension on his neck increasing. The more he tried to roll away, the further she twisted his head in the opposite direction.

Keira was impressed with the amount of fight this man had in him. It was all she could do to stop him from getting loose. She thought about breaking his neck there and then, but decided against it as she hauled back on the improvised garrotte once more, applying more pressure as she was now almost sitting on his back. The sharp tug on the scarf producing a satisfying wet, snapping sound that Keira recognised. It was just a matter of time now. The lack of oxygen was beginning to take its toll on Henry; everything was beginning to get very dark, very quickly. He struggled to remain conscious, but finally gave in to the blackness that was overtaking him. Keira felt Henry’s body shudder slightly, and then sag beneath her. She knew he was either unconscious or dead.

Releasing her hold on him, Keira reached forward and felt for a pulse. Feeling none, she stood up and stepped away from Henry’s body, observing with some distaste that he had been unable to control his bladder during his final few moments of life. Removing the scarf from his neck, she straightened out her outfit and made a last sweeping check that she’d left nothing behind. Walking away from the secluded ally, she dialled the telephone number of a local taxi company on her cell phone.

Once she had arranged for her pick up, Keira turned to survey the scene one more time. Her mind suddenly remembered a joke her father had told her a long time ago.

What's the best kind of lawyer? A dead one!

Keira smiled as she walked towards the far end of the street, thinking it was a fitting epitaph for the moment.

****

76 Burrow Street

Wednesday, 10:14 pm

“Don’t forget that I’m taking the kids to Hayden Barlow’s birthday party this Friday.” The comment attempted to penetrate Andrew Hargreaves’ subconscious as he stared at the blank screen on his laptop. “You’re invited as well, but I told Hilary that you were busy so you probably wouldn’t be able to make it.” Andrew mumbled something in response.

The sound of Leah brushing her teeth from the bathroom played around Andrew’s ears as his fingers he closed his eyes and tried to provide his thoughts with the space needed for them to coalesce. As the sound of his wife cleaning her teeth continued, something began to spring forth.

They scurried around the building, pausing only to pick up the scraps they found on the floor. Even in the darkness of their surroundings they moved with precision and ease, knowing the layout of the interior of the building by route. As the first few scavengers began to fan out, others burst forth from the crack in the floor, joining them from the sewers beneath in the desperate search for sustenance.

“Are those beans…?”

“This water looks okay…”

“How long do we have…?”

“I’ve got tinned food over here!”

“What was that noise?”

“Shine the light over here! Over here!”

They looked inside mould-filled freezers; they scoured the broken shelves; they tore into the damp, rotten cardboard boxes, desperately looking for something, anything they could use. They searched until they were exhausted, almost collapsing on the spot from a combination of malnourishment and fatigue. A palpable sense of euphoria spread amongst them as they realised they had struck the mother load.

SCRACK!

The sound of the roof of the building being torn open drowned out the screams of the small party within. Metal I-beams were wrenched from their housings, sending sofa-sized chunks of steel into the open space. The scavengers watched in horror as the protective covering was peeled back by oversized mechanical fingers; powerful spotlights flooded the room, blinding everyone temporarily.

“Humans!” The grating mechanical voice echoed around the confined space, prompting several of the scavengers to flee. The tortured rending of metal finally gave way as the last segments of the steel roof were torn asunder, sending lethal fragments falling to the floor. ”I told you they would be here Sinistaur!” The spotlights faded away, being replaced by two sets of blood-red optics looking down at the scurrying figures. The figure on the left appeared more angular in construction to its counterpart. Although still basically anthropoid in appearance, two large wing-shaped panels attached to its back flanked each arm and its head was almost triangular in appearance. The figure to the right was squatter and bulky in design, with tank tracks evident attached to the back of the mechanical beast.

“Neokhan, your ability to think like one of them is both repulsive and impressive,” Sinistaur replied. “So, what should we do with them?”

“Just as Minister Craven decreed.” Neokhan answered, lifting his arm to display a weapons array bristling with energy. “Eradicate them!”

The Scavengers screamed as the cannon fired, vaporising several of them before they could react. As they scattered there was the sound of gears clunking and metal grinding against metal. Moments later, the south wall of the building collapsed as the hulking alternative mode of Sinistaur smashed through, dispensing concentrated blasts of photon energy at every figure it could target.

Through the night air they could hear the screams gradually fading away between the constant zinging noises of the energy weapon discharges. After a few more minutes these fell silent too, leaving the two mechanoids standing there, almost motionless as they observed their work. They turned their attention to the horizon, doubtless scanning for any scavengers they had missed.

“Will we ever be rid of these vermin?” Sinistaur asked. Neokhan shook his head.

“One day we will be triumphant; Minister Craven has decreed it.” He gestured to Sinistaur. “Come, there is another food depository in the next population centre.”

Once they were certain the two mechanoids had left, three figures slowly emerged from the tree line located a few hundred yards from the smouldering ruins of what had once been a Wal-Mart. Dressed in what looked like heavy duty wetsuits, they cautiously approached the building.

“Jesus…I’m glad that’s one party we decided to pass on.” Tyrone said as Michelle poked her head above one of the broken windows.

“Oh god…” she muttered, struggling to contain the sensation rising in her stomach that threatened to eject the military rations she had consumed earlier that evening. “I can’t go in there.”

“That’s okay.” Evan said as he handed her a small black box. “You can be on lookout duty...”

“Whatcha working on?” Leah asked as she wandered back into the bedroom, dressed in an oversized grey t-shirt with Mickey Mouse on the front. Andrew shrugged his shoulders.

“Could be something, could be nothing.” He sounded non-committal. “Just thought I should get something down on paper as I’ve had some free time lately.”

“You’ve hit the wall again haven’t you?” Andrew nodded and grunted as she pulled the covers back. “The kids want a kitten.” The words popped out of Leah’s mouth as she climbed into bed. Andrew’s fingers hovered over the keys of his laptop, momentarily halted by her statement.

“Really?”

“One of the mom’s in Cassie’s ballet class has a cat that’s just given birth to a litter. She’s looking to give them away to good homes – she’s promised Cassie one if we say yes.” Leah replied as she shuffled across the bed.

“What about a puppy?”

“I’m not really a dog person.” Leah replied. “But I know you’re allergic to cats so I haven’t said anything yet…”

“It’s nothing that anti-histamines can’t counter, right?” Andrew replied, shutting down the laptop and placing it on the small nightstand next to his side of the bed. He could feel Leah moulding herself against his body, wrapping her arms around him as she pressed up against him. Andrew positioned his arm under her head, allowing Leah to rest her head on his chest. “As long as it doesn’t get into the cellar then everything will be fine.” He felt the light peck of her lips against his skin as his wife kissed him. Andrew reached over and flicked the lamp off at the side of the bed.

“Great, because Cassie has already decided on a name for it.”

“Really?” Andrew asked. Leah nodded.

“Oliver.”

“Oliver?” Andrew could feel his eyelids getting heavy. “What if the cat is female?”

“Have you ever tried to argue with the logic of a seven-year-old?” Leah muttered as she nuzzled her head against his chest before closing her eyes.

****

Dublin Airport

Wednesday, 11:35pm

Pacing around the room like a caged tiger, Verity Ward was an extremely unhappy woman. Checking the door handle for what seemed like the umpteenth time she found it was still just as secure as it had been on her previous attempts to open it. Verity sat down in the uncomfortable plastic chair on one side of the table and closed her eyes for a moment, reflecting on how the events of the evening had taken a turn for the worst.

As she had checked in for her short flight back to London she had been detained by two rather burly looking security personnel due to some “irregularities” regarding her passport. She knew instantly that this a lie and quietly applauded whoever had set it up for detaining her in plain sight of the other passengers, thus limiting her options to evade detention. Now all she could do was continue to wait until her “host” revealed themselves.

As it transpired, after an hour of being left on her own, her wait was almost over. The door to the claustrophobic room opened and the two burly security guards entered, accompanied by a third figure. This stranger was a medium built man with greying hair and narrow framed glasses perched on his angular nose. His eyes looked almost black in the strained lighting of the room and his demeanour was anything but sunny. The door was secured by one of the security personnel as her passport was thrown back onto the table.

“I must admit that your photograph doesn’t do you justice.” The Third Man said as he pulled out the chair across from Keira and sat down. “You’re far more attractive in the flesh.” Verity continued to study him in silence. “Of course, I’m sure Mr Rice discovered that this evening to his cost.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking…”

“Let’s just cut the bullshit shall we, Miss Ward?” The Third Man interrupted her. Verity’s heart rate increased for a moment upon his use of her name – her real name that was. “I know that you are Verity Ward, rather than Donna Sampson as your passport alludes to, and you are also the contract killer known as Keira.” They exchanged looks for a moment before Verity looked at the ground. “And I know this because I was the person who arranged the hit on Mr Rice this evening through your associate Jacob, along with a few other jobs throughout your career.”

Verity could feel her stomach flip as she realised that she was completely exposed. As the illusion of anonymity slipped from her fingers, Verity came to the stark realisation that she was now being backed into a corner from which she couldn’t fight her way out.

“What do you want?” Her question made The Third Man smile.

“I have a few…loose ends that need to be taken care of,” He explained. “Currently, I’m not in a position to deal with them personally and I could use someone with your skills to act on my behalf. I’m prepared to give you access to intelligence and ordnance in order to resolve the matter in exchange to turning a blind eye to your recent activities within the borders of the United Kingdom, but it has to be taken care of by Monday morning.”

“Why so soon?” Verity asked, looking up at the two guards by the door.

“I find that a pressing deadline focuses the mind.” The Third Man replied. “My associates here will ensure that you are on the next flight to London. I will contact you in the morning with the details of the task at hand.”

“What if I say no?” Verity asked as the Third Man got up from his chair.

“Oh, I’m sorry, you must be mistaken; this isn’t a negotiable request.” He said. “If you enjoy the concept of your own personal freedom and the health and well being of your father, your brother and your nephew, you’ll do exactly as I say, when I say.” Verity seethed as the Third Man made to exit the room. “I’ll be in touch Miss Ward. Enjoy your flight.”

****

As the Aer Lingus flight achieved enough velocity to break free of the shackles of gravity, he watched it from the departure lounge. Tracking the vehicle as it disappeared into the dark night sky, a blonde woman dressed in a black trouser suit approached him.

“Mr Blevins,” She said. “Your flight will be ready to board shortly.”

“Thank you Susan.” He said as he drew his attention away from the window. “Did you send that information to the Interpol office in Brussels and the Justice Department in New York?”

“Yes sir. I sent all the files relating to Verity Ward and her recent actions as you requested.” Susan replied. He nodded.

“Excellent.” James Blevins took one final look into the inky black sky before he allowed a satisfied smile to drift over his face.

****

Thursday

10:44 am

Slowly moving through the city centre morning traffic, the black BMW appeared to be just one of the many thousands of cars that travelled along the roads of the metropolis of London each day. However, inside the vehicle, the occupants were engaged in radically different business to their fellow commuters.

“I was hoping for a nicer car this time.” Sarah McGowan said as she sat in the back seat. “Or at least for better company during the journey.” She directed her comment at her two companions sitting in the front of the car.

The engine of the motorcycle purred as it snaked through the lines of traffic.

“I’m sorry the conversation isn’t to your liking,” Frost replied from the passenger seat. “I’m afraid I’m all out of scintillating topics to discuss.”

Guiding the bike between cars, shifting her weight on the two hundred and thirty five horsepower engine as it tore through the streets, her mind began to focus on what she needed to do.

“Well, I’ve got one,” Sarah said, leaning forward slightly. “How about we go over the whole “I tell you everything I know and you keep my arse out of jail and/or a coffin” deal again?” Neither Frost nor Drake – in the driver’s seat – said anything. “Really, I think we should discuss it again, after all I’ve given you an awful lot so far and from my end I’ve gotten squat back to date.”

“Hey, we’ve kept you safe from any retaliation, at great expense to the tax payer I might add.” Drake said as he drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. “We’ve given you a new identity and provided you with means of gainful employment. Considering what you’ve already told us you’re coming across as really fucking ungrateful.”

Adjusting the throttle as she identified her target, her thoughts became singular and streamlined. Her right hand gripped the handle of the automatic pistol as she steered one-handed towards her target, the speed of the bike diminishing to just above stalling speed. Drawing alongside, she took aim with her finger poised upon the trigger.

“Whatever,” Sarah replied. “All I know is that I’ve got the distinct feeling that I’m on the wrong end of a raw deal here…”

The mixture of staccato bursts of gunfire and the sound of shattering glass filled the car. Everyone reacted differently, with Drake pushing his foot down on the accelerator out of instinct. He twisted the wheel slightly, yet succeeded only in burying the BMW into the back of the Vauxhall Astra in front of them. Everyone was thrown forward by the impact; yet more bullets zinged inside the vehicle, buzzing through like angry hornets.

As quickly as it had begun, it was over. Amidst the confusion the sound of an engine could be heard. As she opened her eyes, Frost could hear Drake moaning in pain. He was gripping his shoulder and she could see the blood seeping from the bullet wound in his leg. She reached over to him.

“Are you…?”

”Don’t worry about me…” He cursed through gritted teeth. Frost picked up on his meaning and looked over her shoulder.

“Sarah, are you…?” Lifeless eyes and a blood stained face gazed back at Frost from the back seat of the BMW. The bullet holes that decorated the clothing across her body told her all she needed to know.

Speeding away from the scene, leaving behind the panicked commuters, the darkened visor hid the look of relief on Verity’s face. Part one of her task was now completed. Now it was just a matter of waiting until Blevins contacted her regarding part two.

****

Friday

12:33 pm

The sound of music blared out of the tiny yet powerful speakers attached to the desktop PC and echoed around the cold stonewall of the cellar. Leaning back in his chair, Andrew found himself moving his head in time with the drumbeat, hoping to dislodge something from inside his mind.

He stood up for a minute and stretched his arms out before moving across to the far corner of the cellar. Picking up a four-string bass guitar and a plectrum, Andrew sat down on the bench against the back wall and began to pluck away at the strings. Mirroring the bass line of the track currently being played, he closed his eyes and began to lose himself within the music.

“…I’m dying tomorrow, in this house, this street, Chicago. I’m dying tomorrow, did I, did I do it right?...” the words flowed as easily as his fingers danced across the four strings, moving across the A and E strings before going up an octave on the D string for sixteen notes, then dropping back down again on the G. “…Did I remember to sleep in, take lots of pills, commit irreversible sins? Did I, did I at least try to make sure everybody had a good time? Had the best time…”

By the conclusion of the song Andrew felt invigorated by the solo jam session. Carefully replacing the decade old guitar on its stand, he returned to the PC and began to type. Losing track of time as he immersed himself in his thoughts, he didn’t hear the sound of the door to the cellar being opened or the sound of footsteps making their way down the stairs.

“I’ve made you a cup of tea.” The words accompanied the mug being deposited besides the PC. “How’s it going?” Leah rubbed Andrew’s shoulders, feeling the tension within them.

“Slowly.” He replied. “But I might have something…” The sensation of her hands on his shoulder muscles made a smile drift over his face.

“Were you playing your guitar a minute ago?” Leah asked as she continued to massage him.

“Yeah…thought it might clear out the creative pipes…” Her hands stopped moving in the practiced, deliberate motion and he felt her fingers pressing against part of the back of his neck. “What are you doing?”

“You’ve got a spot here that I’ve been meaning to squeeze since Tuesday.” Leah said, applying pressure to the small mound of matter on the back of Andrew’s neck. “Just stay still…”

“Okay…Ow…Ohhh, argh!” He moaned as she continued to squeeze. “Right, that’s hurting now…stop it…stop it!”

“Jesus, you’re such a baby at times…” Leah muttered. “There we go!” She held her finger in front of Andrew’s face, enabling him to see the small particle of matter she had extracted from his body. “You’d be useless under torture.”

“I’ve had to sit through Sunday lunch with your mother when she was off her head; that’s the very definition of torture!” He countered as she kissed his cheek and ruffled his hair.

“You know, I wouldn’t disagree with you on that count baby,” Leah said, chuckling. “I’m going to get the kids ready for Hayden’s birthday party, so we’ll see you about sevenish.”

“Groovy. Have a good time.” Andrew replied without looking up from the keyboard. Once Leah had left the cellar he opened the draw of his desk and removed a large notebook from it. Opening the book and sifting through the pages, Andrew began to read.

****

The Baekdu Mountains

North Korea

November 1999

The snow was drifting in the evening wind as the sun finally dropped below the horizon. Trudging through the snow, leaving a rapidly vanishing trail of imprints leading away from the Kyu-Po military compound, two figures approached a vague, undefined mass just inside the perimeter fence. Cursing under their breath, the taller figure to the left of the pair shook his head as the smaller, squatter figure approached the huddled mass of rags.

“Fucking bum,” The squat figure spat in a regional dialect. “How’d you get inside the fence?” He prodded the pile of rags with the butt of his rifle and was met with a groaning sound.

“This is a restricted area – get up!” The taller man screamed. “Come on, it’s time for us to throw you out!” The bundle of rags simply remained in place, despite the repeated interference from the two guards.

“Fuck…” The squat guard moaned as he tried to grab hold of a limb. “You know we could just kill you and no one would bat an eyelid, right?” The pile of rags seemed to squirm out of his feeble grip with ease.

“That’s it…” The taller guard said, pulling back the bolt of his rifle and lifting it upwards. As he did so, his colleague pulled away some of the rags – and took a sharp intake of breath at what he saw beneath them. The soft feminine features and brown eyes looked up at him, shortly followed by the barrel of a pistol.

Pfhtt! Pfhtt! Pfhtt!

The first shot struck the taller man in the head, the second and third shots striking the squat man in the chest.

“It’s disgraceful the way people treat homeless people these days.” Leah mused to herself as she untangled herself from the pile of warm blankets she had purchased from one of the local markets in the nearby town. Dressed in the dark coloured, insulated form-fitting bodysuit she favoured for these types of operations, she pulled a pair of goggles out of her kit bag to shield her eyes from the near-blizzard conditions. Once they were in place, she attached something to her ear.

“Alison, the perimeter guards have been eliminated,” She said to the other person listening at the other end of the device. “There’s a small guardhouse on the opposite side of the complex; I’ll make my way there and meet you at the extraction point.”

“Understood Leah.” Alison replied, just about picking out the figure of her friend from the roof of one of the wings of the Kyu-Po compound. “Be careful.”

“You too.” She paused for a second. “Look, are you sure that’s the way you want to get out of there?”

“Trust me, it’s the only way.” Alison answered.

“Okay, I’ll be in touch once I’m in position.” The microphone in Alison’s ear went dead. She turned around and secured one end of a high-tension line to a small heating duct. Tugging on it, Alison attached the other end to her belt before taking a short run towards the edge of the building. Leaping clear, she arced through the air, moving away from the compound before allowing the trajectory of her dive to bring her back towards it once more.

Twisting her body in the air, she faced towards the building as she rushed towards it. Lifting her feet, Alison smashed through one of the large windows of the fifth floor, landing inside what looked like some sort of mess hall. In a practiced manoeuvre, her Walther was in her hand and sweeping across the room. Finding it empty, she detached the cable from her belt and pulled a small electronic PDA from a pouch on her thigh. The display lit up like a Christmas tree, breaking down the layout of the Kyu-Po compound.

Kneeling down and reaching into the pocket on her other thigh, Alison removed two small packages and placed them against the wall, the adhesive nature of the material giving them purchase. Red blinking lights on each of them indicated that they were active. Holding up her wrist, she keyed a three-digit code into what appeared to be an oversized watch. Both the wrist controller and the two lumps of putty-like substance chimed in unison.

Knowing that her target was located on the ground floor, Alison then focused her attention on opening up a small ventilation hatch that was just big enough for her to fit into. After twenty minutes of shimmying, shuffling and crawling through the confined metal tubes, Alison found herself looking at a dark corridor. Moving her body as best as she could in the ventilation shaft, she kicked out at the metal grill.

As it slammed against the floor, Alison dropped out of the shaft, pistol in hand. The shocked expression on the face of the guard standing next to a heavy steel door was replaced by the realisation that he was staring at an intruder – albeit a female one. His mind was dulled slightly by the prospect that this woman – dressed in something out of some pulpy spy novel – had just literally dropped out of the ceiling.

Alison needed no prompting for what came naturally to her under the circumstances. Her arm was raised before the guard had time to comprehend he was in mortal danger. The two snapshots struck him in the chest, knocking him to the floor before he had chance to raise his rifle. She stepped over his body as she looked at the door.

For a moment, she contemplated whether she should have used up her supply of plastic explosive on the fifth floor. Her hand reached out and gripped the handle, twisting it. To her surprise, the handle gave way immediately, allowing her access to the room. Carefully stepping inside she could just make out two shapes in the dark space – one crouched over the other. The piercing whine of a drill coupled with that of a woman’s scream shook Alison.

The gun was raised in the blink of an eye, aiming directly at the hunched figure. She squeezed the trigger, knocking the shape away with a muffled cry. Advancing on what looked like a table, Alison recognised the figure strapped to it immediately.

“Grace Cook?” She asked. The frightened woman whose mouth was bleeding profusely looked up at her. For a minute she failed to comprehend the words, then nodded in recognition. “Great – I’m getting you out of here.” Alison swiped away the small dentist drill from Grace’s chest as she unbuckled her. “Where’s Abraham?”

“…Next room…” Grace replied through a blood-filled and pain-racked mouth. Alison helped her up off the table.

“Can you walk?” Grace nodded. “Stay here – I’ll get Abraham.” Alison opened the door and peeked out. Finding herself alone except for the body of the guard, she walked to the next door in the sequence of rooms. Upon opening it, the smell of urine and faeces hit her. Trying not to gag she approached a figure huddled in the corner. Reaching out to him she could feel that his skin was cold – his lifeless eyes looked up at the ceiling, no doubt praying for a rescue that had come too late. Trying her best to close his eyelids, Alison wasted no further time in the room.

“Okay – we have to go now.” She said to Grace as she re-entered, handing her the guard’s boots and rifle.

“…What about…?”

“It’s too late for him,” Alison knew she sounded blunt, but there was no other way to put it. “But not for you, now lets…” the sound of a groan from the other side of the table startled her. Striding purposefully towards the noise, she saw that the figure she had shot was dressed in a white coat like some twisted parody of a doctor. He rolled over, clutching his shoulder and looked up at Alison.

He tried to say something to her but the bullet she put in his head silenced him forever. Turning back to face Grace, she was pleased to see that she’d put the boots on and had dragged the dead guard into the room. Despite her fumbling fingers she was making good progress on removing the jacket from the dead man.

“Hurry up,” Alison added as she moved back to the door, checking for any unwanted attention.

“How are we going to get out of here?” Grace asked as she hobbled over to her.

“Don’t worry about that – my partner is outside making sure we’ve got clear passage.” Alison encouraged her to step out into the corridor as she secured the door behind them.

“I don’t wish to sound ungrateful, but have you got anything for the pain?” Grace asked, holding her jaw. Alison knew that wasn’t the only part of her that hurt but she shook her head.

“Not here, but once we’re outside Leah has a medical kit we can use – right now I need you sharp.” Grace nodded as they moved along the corridor, and then she stopped in her tracks.

“Wait – this leads to the front door – and the main barracks…”

“I know – it’s the quickest way out.” Alison explained. “Besides, you’re in no shape to get upstairs through the ventilation system and then out from the roof.”

“But…but that’s suicide!” Grace exclaimed. “There are at least twenty, thirty guards there…”

“I know – that’s why I’ve planned a little diversion…”

****

The garbled voices in Korean made little sense to Leah as she was crouched outside the primary guardhouse that controlled entrance to and from the Kyu-Po compound. Her knowledge of the language was limited – enough to get by but not enough to actually converse in it. Andrew had explained to her that she probably had some eidetic aspect to her mind that functioned as a savant-style translator; however the process was only one way – effectively she could receive but not transmit.

For a minute her mind wandered, wondering what the expression on his face would be like when he unwrapped his Christmas present this year; a new bass guitar, although unwrapping might be abit of a misnomer – she was just going to present it to him first thing Christmas morning. There were times when she wondered if there was actually a limit to the artistic side of his personality, although he maintained he couldn’t paint or draw, she wasn’t sure if he was simply trying to make her feel better about the fact she was hopeless when it came to things like that.

Everyone has his or her own talents, he’d remind her whenever she got frustrated by her relative clumsiness. She knew he was planning something for Christmas – he’d asked her for her passport details two weeks ago before she’d left for Singapore – and she couldn’t wait to see him once she got back. If only she could skip the debriefing…I wonder whom our kids would take after?

The sound of the door opening was her cue and dragged her back from her daydreams. She watched the guard walking in her general direction, her right hand gripping the handle of her knife. As he turned his back to her she struck from the shadows, her gloved left hand covering his mouth as the blade of the knife was driven into his back, efficiently transacted his upper vertebrae. She lowered his body to the ground then scooped up the MP5 from her kit back. Checking that the suppressor was in place she scurried to the door. Taking a short step back, Leah drove her foot into the artificial barrier, throwing it open to the surprise of the operators inside.

Phudaphudaphudaphudaphuda!

The soft thudding of bullets striking bodies accompanied her arcing aim. The short staccato burst of violence was over almost as quickly as it had begun. Leah stepped inside and secured the door. Looking at the monitors she was able to isolate the main gate controls. Locking them open she turned her attention to securing some form of transport out of the compound.

Approaching a standard military utility vehicle, Leah set about trying to jump start the engine. That’s when she heard the explosion from the fifth floor. A small smile drifted across her face as she understood why Alison had taken it with her.

****

Helping Grace into the passenger seat of the utility truck was the easy part. As Alison got in she could see that Leah was administering a shot of something or other to the operative they had been sent to recover. Grace quickly lapsed into unconsciousness. Leah fired up the truck and pulled out of the main gates before speaking.

“What about the other one?”

“Dead.” Alison replied, looking at the kitbag on the floor. “Are you sure these UN credentials will work?” She examined the documentation in the dim light of the interior of the truck.

“They’d better do.” Leah said as she navigated the icy roads. “There’s a flight out to Sweden first thing tomorrow morning – although I’ll feel better once we’re in the air.”

“Okay.” She looked out of the window. “You know Andy’s planning on proposing to you, right?”

“What?” Leah almost lost control of the truck. “He’s told you that?”

“No – but he asked me if you’d ever been to New York before.” Alison said. “I’m thinking New York, Christmas, Tiffany’s, the Empire State Building…you see where I’m going with this?” Leah nodded.

“What did you say?”

“I told him we’d been shopping there for a weekend once, got drunk, slept with a football team…” the smile on her face told Leah that Alison was trying to wind her up. “No, I told him the truth – you’ve never been to New York.”

“Well, thanks.” Leah paused for a second. “He knew you were joking about that other stuff, right?”

“He saw through it within ten seconds.” Alison sounded genuinely upset. “So, if he pops the question what are you going to say?”

“What do you think I’m going to say?” Leah shot back. “Yes of course!”

****

The Barlow Residence

Friday

5:35 pm

Where previously there had been a swirling maelstrom of frenetic activity, the kitchen was now a tiny bubble of calm; a small safe haven from the chaos reigning in the back garden. Drying up the last of the bowls that had been used to dish up trifle to the children who were now enrapt in watching the clown show, Leah allowed a sigh to escape from her lips.

“I don’t know how you do it.” Hilary laughed as she placed two mugs on the counter.

“I’m a single mom; it’s a question of having to.” She replied. Leah placed the bowl on top of the pile in the cupboard before she switched the kettle on. “But as my Mom constantly reminds me, it could be worse.” Her philosophical reply made Leah laugh in turn. “And thank god for the kids going back to school as well.”

“Yeah, that’s true.”

“So, how’s the new job working out?” Hilary asked as she retrieved the milk from the fridge. “Has your boss made any inappropriate comments to you yet?”

“Mmm, can you be sexually harassed by your husband when you work from home for him in nothing but your underwear at times?” Leah mused with a wide grin on her face. “There are moments when I’m not sure if I’m working for him or he’s working for me – I swear, if I wasn’t prodding him to get on with things he’d just sit there watching cartoons all day.” She looked out of the window at the performance in the garden. “He’s worse than the kids when it comes to being easily distracted. Then he suddenly has this burst of creativity from somewhere inside that brain of his and he’s down in the cellar night and day writing.” The kettle finished boiling and Hilary poured the hot water into the two mugs before stirring. “I also caught him playing his guitar today for the first time in three years. I know it sounds like I’m complaining, but Andy really is a great boss to work for; it’s just his complete and utter lack of organisation and relaxed attitude to deadlines that scares me – I swear, I don’t know how he managed to write one book let alone twelve the way he works.”

“I hear you; I would imagine it’s like organised chaos right?” Hilary laughed as Leah shared a look that confirmed her statement. “The beauty of an artistic mind – it’s all over the place at times. You still take milk in your coffee don’t you?” Leah nodded. “How’s your friend doing after her car accident?” Hilary changed the subject.

“Well, she’s getting better,” Leah recalled her last visit to see Alison at the Edwards Clinic. “They are moving to the third stage skin grafts now, but they’ve got to be careful, what with the baby and all that.” She looked out of the window; Cassie was being handed a balloon animal by the clown. “If everything goes well she should be out by Christmas.”

“You know, it’s a miracle the baby seems to be okay.” Hilary said. “When you told me about it I just had the words miscarriage rolling around the back of my head.”

“Tell me about it.” Leah responded as Hilary handed her the mug. “I had this nightmare the other night about it – that it was me who’d had the accident when I was pregnant with the kids.” Leah felt a shudder run down her spine as she recalled the event. “Andy found me curled up in the bathroom, crying my eyes out.” She shook her head. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me recently – my hormones are all over the place.”

“Wait, you’re not…are you?”

“What? Oh no, no.” Leah replied. “I just think it’s a matter of adjusting from my old job to this one, plus it’s that time of the month again.” She took a drink from her mug.

“Didn’t you used to work at the Foreign Office?” Leah nodded again, confirming the story she’d told everyone except a select few who knew the truth about her previous career.

“Yes, yes.” She mused, watching the clown as he continued to make balloon animals for the children. “It’s just a big change really, but I know I’ve made the right decision. It’s just…different.” Both women were silent for a moment. “How is the marathon training going?”

“Slowly.” Hilary said between drinks. “Between teaching at the school and looking after Hayden I barely seem to have the time or the motivation to train. Six months to go and I’m already worried I won’t be ready.”

“Do you need some help?”

“How do you mean?” Hilary replied, genuinely interested. Leah put her mug down.

“Well, since Alison’s accident I’ve been looking for a new gym buddy.”

“I thought Andy was going to the gym with you?”

“Andy just ogles my butt as I’m on the treadmill.” Leah smirked. “Which is nice, but it gets…distracting. So, what do you say?” The sound of the children cheering outside heralded the end of the clown’s performance.

“You’ve got a deal.” Hilary replied as she scooped up the tray of soft drinks from the kitchen table. “And that’s our cue to go and save the kiddies entertainer from the screaming hordes.”

****

The Odyssey Apartment Complex

Friday

10:32 pm

The suitcase was loaded with the essentials. As she placed a variety of passports and IDs in the top, Verity closed the lid and locked it. Taking one last look around the near-empty bedroom, she silently cursed herself for falling into this predicament. Making her way back into her living room she sat down at the dining table and fired up her laptop.

The bare walls of her soon-to-be-former home were almost alien to her. The collection of artwork she had acquired over the years had been hastily placed into storage as she began to plan her immediate departure from the city in the first instance. As the laptop completed its action to log onto her secure connection, Verity made a short list of things she needed to do as soon as she left the building.

The first thing would be to find a buyer for the flat; she knew of several good estate agents in the area that she could deal with once she was safely out of the country. As she entered her password to access her e-mail account the screen returned an error message to her. Thinking about the keys she’d just pressed, Verity tried it again only slower this time.

By her failure on the third attempt to access the e-mail account Verity was starting to get a gnawing sense of foreboding in her stomach. This was only confirmed and changed into a palpable rage when she was unable to access the electronic details of her bank account. She picked up her cell phone and made a call. The other end of the line rang out, remaining unanswered. Counting each ring tone in her head it wasn’t until the fifteenth tone that the call was finally picked up.

“What the fuck is going on Jacob?” The venom in Verity’s voice was clear to hear. “I can’t get into either my e-mail account or access my bank records.”

“You’re off my list Keira,” the reply wasn’t entirely unexpected, but it still stung. “Too many people interested in you now and your face is all over the watchboards of the local Five-Ohs. I imagine they’ve frozen your bank account by now…”

“What?” Verity almost fell out of her chair.

“Someone has given you up baby and the Powers That Be have snared you in their net.” Jacob replied. “Shame, because you were a nice little earner. I heard that Interpol have someone on their way to talk to you about your recent work.” There was a rapping sound at the door to the apartment.

“Shit!” Verity abruptly ended the call and reached for the .22 pistol she kept in her purse. Stalking up to the door she cautiously looked through the spy hole. On the other side of the door was a woman with mousy blonde hair and glasses waiting patiently. Verity counted to three before sharply yanking the door open and grabbing the jacket of the woman, dragging her inside. Kicking the door shut, the barrel of the pistol was jammed up into the woman’s chin as Verity pushed her against the wall.

“Who the fuck are you?” she hissed, revelling in the fear she saw in the stranger’s eyes.

“Gos…Gosling…” The woman stammered. “I work for Blevins…” Verity released her gip on the woman slightly once she mentioned Blevins’ name. “He sent me to give you this.” Gosling held out a small file that Verity eagerly took from her. She then began to pat down her pockets, pausing to remove Gosling’s cell phone.

“Get out.” Verity spat as she opened the door. Slamming behind Gosling, she opened the file and began to read through the contents.

****

Saturday morning

“Inno sent us an e-mail last night from Florida,” Andrew said as he rested on his knees in front of the fridge freezer. His fingers glided over a small dent in the side of the casing that surrounded it and he shook his head. “He’s going to be over here next month for a couple of weeks and wants to take us out to dinner.”

“Really? Well, I’m up for that if you are.” Leah replied. “We’ll need a babysitter…”

“I think I know where we can find one of those.”

“Did he say how Sascha and Irina are getting on?” Leah asked.

“He said that the family were adjusting to their new life quite well under the circumstances,” The grinding sound of ice against plastic filled the kitchen. The draw was resisting his efforts to close it. “I think it helps that Sascha already speaks English pretty well from her time living over here when Inno was at the Embassy so there isn’t much of a language barrier for her and you know how quickly kids adapt to their environment – apparently they’re staying at a hotel owned by some Russian oil magnate who owes Inno a few favours from back in the day.”

“Have you met her then?” Leah sounded surprised at Andrew’s level of knowledge of Inno’s daughter’s lingual capabilities.

“Err, twice, probably about a year before I met you actually. When was the last time we defrosted the freezer?” Andrew asked as he struggled to close the third draw, rapidly changing subject.

“About a month ago.” Leah replied.

“Seriously?” Andrew shut the door. “Maybe the compressor is playing up…” He shook his head. “What time did Suri say she was going to be here?” Leah looked down at her wristwatch.

“Soon – remind me to get your Mom a bottle of wine for having the kids today. I’d have never gotten the place cleaned up with them here.”

“I don’t think you need to bribe her to look after them. Since the day we were married she’s been locked into Grandmother mode...” Andrew replied as he pushed his hand down the back of the freezer. “I knew it – the compressor feels like it’s burning out…” He shook his head as he brushed bits of fluff off his hand. “I’m gonna wander down the road to the shop for some milk – do we need anything else?”

“I don’t think so…” Leah mused as she filled up the kettle. The sound of the doorbell spluttering after completing the ding part of its cycle drew the attention of both Leah and Andrew; the dong aspect of the tone failing miserably to reach its crescendo. Grabbing his jacket as he headed towards the door, Andrew paused to scoop up his wallet and mobile phone before addressing the visitor. Unlocking the Yale lock and opening the door, he recognised the woman standing on the doorstep immediately. Her dusky complexion and near-jet black hair were offset by her blue eyes and warm smile.

“Surinder, nice to see you again.” He looked at the doorbell mechanism, muttering to himself. “I really need to fix that this weekend…”

“You too Andrew.” Suri said as Andrew gestured for her to enter the house. “I trust you are keeping well?”

“As well as can be expected, under the circumstances.” Andrew replied. “Leah’s in the kitchen...” Once Suri was inside, Andrew made his way out of the door.

“Oh, you aren’t leaving on my account are you?”

“No, no,” Andrew replied as he grasped the door handle. “I need a walk to clear my head so I figured I’d head down to the shop. I’ll see you later if you’re still here.” The door closed, leaving Suri standing in the hall way.

“Tea or coffee?” The question came from the kitchen at the far end of the hallway. Suri headed straight towards it.

“Tea – definitely tea. I’m sick to death of coffee right now. As much as they try, you cannot get a decent cup of tea in New York.” She said as she entered the kitchen, seeing Leah handling two mugs and a bottle of milk.

“Milk no sugar, right?” Leah asked. Suri nodded.

“I’m impressed you remembered.” She replied, clutching a briefcase in her hands.

“It’s a curse, trust me.” Leah answered.

“How are the kids?”

“Oh, they’re fine – they’re spending the day with their grandparents – it gets them out from under my feet when I’m trying to clean the house.” Leah said, stirring each drink in turn as she poured hot water into them. “They’ve been abit of a handful this half-term.” The chinking sound of the spoon striking the edge of the second mug punctuated her comment. “So, how are things at Interpol?”

“Crazy.” Suri replied. “I’ve been assigned to the New York office and I’m stuck with some screwball from the Justice Department who had me chasing shadows to begin with; shadows that have become something of a startling reality as of late.”

“Okay, colour me intrigued.” Leah said. “Set up whatever you’ve got in the living room; I’ll bring the biscuits in as well, provided Andy hasn’t eaten them all.”

****

Watching through a telescopic lens from the park at the far end of Burrow Street, Verity recognised the Indian woman who had approached the property as the Interpol agent Blevins had provided information on via his courier Gosling the previous evening. The depth of information that Interpol held on her was frightening as she absorbed it along with the details of her second target – some renegade operative lurking in the middle of nowhere.

As she sat in her car Verity couldn’t help but feel that the provision of the information from her mysterious benefactor was more than a little circumstantial in nature. Just as she was about to put the camera down though she noticed the male figure leaving the property, then a thought popped into her mind.

It wouldn’t hurt to have a little insurance right about now.

****

“So, what you’re telling me is that you have some evidence of an international contract killer stalking the globe and that she’s active here in the UK right now?” Leah said as she looked through the collection of paperwork and photographs.

“Yeah,” Suri said. “Here’s the strange part.” She continued, finishing her cup of tea. “The office in New York received a tip off that she was planning something here this weekend. Initially I was sceptical, then we realised that the tip also contained details of two deaths that the Agency has been looking at as part of a wider corporate fraud investigation – those of Simon Aston in Monte Carlo three weeks ago and Henry Rice in Dublin on Wednesday night. I hopped on the first flight back here and upon arrival at Heathrow I was told that there had been a drive by shooting in the city that had now been officially attributed to her by the local office.”

“Oh yeah – I heard about that on the news yesterday.” Leah exclaimed. “I have to admit, from the bits I’ve read in the newspapers it sounded like a professional job.” She looked through the photographic images from the Los Angeles surveillance footage one more time. “It hardly sounded like the work of some small time drug dealers involved in a gang-related turf war as everyone is trying to portray it.” She put the still images down. “But I still don’t really see how I can help you.”

“Something about all this seems off to me.” Suri said. “I mean, I know there are plenty of guns for hire out there, but this Keira character seems too well organised for it to be some thrill killer who woke up one morning and decided to set themselves up as a hitter.”

“You think she’s on the disavowed list right?” Suri nodded in response to Leah’s thoughts. “Okay, I’ll see what I can find out – I’ll call Emma and Will to see…” the cell phone on the telephone table began to ring. Leah shook her head as she got up, recognising the name on the display. “It’s Andy – he’s probably forgotten his keys again…What have you left this time?”

“If you wish to see your husband alive again please put the Interpol agent that’s in your house on the line.” Leah felt her blood freeze as the words sank in. She looked at Suri and gestured for her to take the phone.

“It’s for you.” She said, handing it to Suri before disappearing into the kitchen. In turn, Suri could hear a cupboard door being opened and closed.

“Who is this?”

“You know full well who this is.” The female voice on the other end of the line replied. “Now, if you wish to avoid having this man’s death on your conscience I suggest you do exactly as I tell you.” There was a pause. “Leave me alone – just let me do what I have to do then I’ll disappear; you’ll never hear of me again.”

“Look, just let the gentleman go and we can talk about…”

“There’s no talking here; no negotiation – you leave me alone otherwise you’ll find pretty boy here dead in a ditch.” The call ended abruptly. Suri felt sick. A moment later Leah had rejoined her in the living room, a small duffel bag in her hand.

“Come on, we’re going to find them.” Her tone was business-like, masking the emotional turmoil coursing through her body.

“How?” Suri asked as Leah took the cell phone from her hands.

“Silly as it sounds we can track him with this.” She waved the phone in the air.

“What?”

“I’ll explain in the car.” Leah replied. “I just need to get something from upstairs first.”

****

“I really wouldn’t have done that if I were you.” Andrew said from the back seat of the car. Verity ignored him. “My wife does have something of a temper on her at times.” Verity snorted. “And I’d hardly call myself Pretty Boy…do I look like I have tank tracks instead of legs?” She either ignored his quip or simply failed to appreciate it.

“Oddly enough, the raging temper of some hopeless suburban housewife is the least of my worries right now.”

“Okay, well, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Andrew muttered as he looked out of the window at the suburban landscape passing them by at nearly seventy miles an hour. “Don’t you think you should be abiding by the speed limit around here?”

“Do you want me to shoot you in the face right now?” Verity snapped back.

“I’m just saying that I would imagine the last thing you need is to get pulled over for speeding.” Andrew replied.

“Trust me; if anyone tries that then they’re going to have a very fucking bad day.” She replied, and then a few moments later Andrew felt the car shifting down gears. He gazed out of the window again and took a deep breath. As he had been holding the bottle of cloudy lemonade up to the light, shaking it slightly as he tried to dislodge the particles within in order to read the expiration date clearly at the generic convenience store at the far end of Burrow Street, Andrew had found himself being confronted by an attractive red head. Taking her to be a fan – which wasn’t as uncommon as it had been in the past – he had asked her how he could help her.

The sudden appearance of a 9mm pistol had convinced him that she was at best a crazed stalker and quite possibly something much worse. He had done exactly as she had asked; reasoning that compliance at that point in time was preferable to open defiance. Upon being directed to her vehicle – some silver coloured Japanese monstrosity – she had taken his cell phone and dialled home.

As the car broke free of the countryside and hit the motorway, Andrew noticed that his phone was sitting in the foot well beside the gear stick, the display blinking away as a soft blue light on the side of the device began to flash rapidly.

“So what happens if I need a piss?” Andrew threw the question out there as he saw Verity glancing down at his phone.

“What?”

“Well I might need to go to the toilet – how’s that going to work?” He explained, trying to keep her attention away from the electronic device in the foot well. “Are you going to pull over so I can go at the side of the road or do you want to pull over at a service station and accompany me to the bog?” He could see from the glare in her eyes in the rear view mirror that he was needling her. A moment later an empty water bottle was thrown onto the back seat.

“If you need to go you can use that.” Verity hissed, focusing her attention on the traffic around them once more. “Now shut up or I’ll kneecap you.” Andrew tried to suppress the chuckle in his throat.

****

“Andy’s mom will look after the kids for the evening.” Leah murmured as she looked inside the duffel bag between her feet. “I’m just glad that they are still young enough not to pick up on some of this…”

“Shouldn’t we be calling for backup?” Suri asked as she steered the car. Leah shook her head, trying to focus.

“If this Keira character is as professional as she seems to be she’ll kill Andrew at the first sign of trouble.” She replied as she held the cell phone in her hands. “They’re heading north...”

“Okay, you still haven’t explained how we’re following them.” Suri said, negotiating the traffic as best as she could. Leah gestured towards the cell phone.

“About a month ago Andy got this screwy idea to get that partner tracker thing for both of our mobile phones – he said it would allow me to keep track of him while he’s working so I knew he hadn’t wandered off out of the house.” Leah explained. “He’s got this thing when he gets writer’s block where he goes for a walk and disappears for anything up to several hours at a time. I freaked out the first time it happened – turns out that it’s a regular occurrence with him and he just never told me about it. Said he didn’t want me to worry, and he never does it when the kids are at home. I didn’t think that it actually worked…until now.”

“Really? Some crappy downloadable application actually has a purpose?”

“As long as the phone is switched on this application will track it in a rudimentary way,” She shook her head. “I thought it was abit too stalkerish originally, but right now I’m eternally grateful for it.” As they broke free from the city traffic, Leah felt the engine in the car surge, additional power being directed to the main drive shaft with the increased pressure from Suri’s foot.

“How are you holding up?” Suri asked. Leah shook her head.

“Don’t ask me that.” She muttered. “Seriously, I’m barely keeping it together right now.” Leah looked out of the window. “You know, I thought I’d gotten this clear in my mind along time ago – I’d imagined every worst case scenario I could think of but there was always the one constant factor that I always knew if I fell apart Andy was always going to be there to help me through…to pick up the pieces…but…I’ve got this sinking feeling about this; like everything is going to go wrong.” She tried to wipe away the tears that were starting to roll down her cheek. “What do I tell the kids? What do I tell his mother? Or his sisters?” Leah shook her head. “Suri, if this woman does anything to Andy I’m going to kill her, you understand that, right?”

“Leah, you know that I’m here to arrest her,” Suri replied. Leah nodded but her face told Suri a radically different story. “But I’ll be the first one turning a blind eye if something happens to Andrew.” Leah looked out of the window, the knot in her stomach getting ever tighter with each passing minute.

****

Upper Arley

Worcestershire

The final few embers of the sun illuminated the sky as it dropped towards the horizon. Pushing herself from the kitchen to the living room, Jane carefully balanced the tray that her microwave dinner was balanced upon. Skilfully guiding herself into position in front of the television, she locked the brakes of the wheelchair in place before picking up the fork. The pasta dish tasted like a bizarre hybrid of cheese and cardboard. After the third forkful she realised that she would need something to drink afterwards to wash away the taste from her mouth.

Something strong.

The television blared into life, falling on one of the preset news channels she had taken to watching recently. Since choosing this self-imposed isolation after events in the hospital over one of the more populated locations available to her, Jane had found herself becoming increasingly cut off from the outside world.

If she was brutally honest, she didn’t miss it. After the attempt on her life she reasoned that she would probably remain a threat to others around her for as long as she continued to experience flashbacks to her previous life. A life that was radically different to what she dealt with on a daily basis now.

A life before her chair.

Finishing her meal, Jane moved back into the kitchen. After throwing the plastic carton into the bin she opened one of the cupboards and reached inside for a bottle. Her hand seemed to instinctively reach for the vodka. Dispensing with the idea of a glass, she returned to the living room and picked up her lukewarm cup of coffee. Unscrewing the lid of the vodka bottle and dumping a reasonably sized serving into the cup, the mixture of alcohol and caffeine burned on its way down her throat.

****

“Shit.” Leah exclaimed. “I’ve lost the signal.”

“What’s happened?” Suri said as she expertly weaved between the lines of traffic.

“They must be somewhere with poor signal coverage – last signal was just over the county border into Worcestershire.” She muttered. “Great, so now I have to hope that they pop up again soon…”

“Leah, we’ll find them.” Suri tried to reassure her. “We’ll keep heading in that direction until your phone picks them up again.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Leah sounded dejected, defeated almost. “I’m calling Emma Gilson at the office – just in case.”

****

By the time of her third drink, Jane could feel that she was well on the way to getting drunk. The sound of someone knocking her door made her look at the clock.

6:52pm

The relative isolation of Upper Arley was one of the main things that had attracted her to it as a place to live. With a population of less than 700 and a wide variety of properties that were set in large tracts of land, Jane knew that it would provide the perfect place to stay out of sight for the foreseeable future. Placing her cup on the table, she wheeled herself around to the door. Reaching up to remove the chain and the bolt, she opened it.

She saw the figure of a man standing in her doorway – who was then violently pushed into her. “What the fu…?” The collision knocked her backwards and obviously came as something of a surprise to him as well, mainly due to his strained cry upon crashing into her. As she came to her senses she realised that there was a second person standing in the room with them now – and she was pointing a sleek, deadly looking pistol directly at Jane. She threw something onto the floor next to the stranger who had hit her chair.

“You – tie her wrists to the arms of the wheelchair,” she barked as she closed the door, taking the time to lock it as the man did as she ordered. “Good – now push her into the back room there.” He wheeled her out of the living room and past the kitchen, taking a left turn into what was actually Jane’s bedroom. As soon as she was in place, the man stepped back – only to be knocked forwards face-first onto the bed. The redhead mounted his back, grabbing his arm and wrenching it sharply backwards, then repeated the move with his other arm and secured his wrists with a similar plastic zip-tie that had been used on Jane’s wrists.

The woman disappeared from the room, leaving them alone for a moment.

“Sorry about all this.” The man said. “I’m Andy, I’d shake your hand, but…””

“Jane.” She replied. “What the fuck is going on?”

“No idea, but if I had to hazard a guess…” He cut himself off as the redhead re-entered the room, carrying a chair Jane recognised from her kitchen. She wasn’t sure why she still kept it – for the occasional, non-existent visitor she presumed. Slamming it down, she dragged Andrew from the bed and dumped him on it. She then turned around to face Jane.

“You’re Grace Cook, right?” Jane shook her head.

“No, no, not any more.” She replied. The woman in front of her pulled a picture out of her jacket pocket, holding it up to Jane’s face. It was like looking into a mirror.

“Well, however you are now, you were once Grace Cook.” She spat. “And for that, someone wants you dead.” Jane’s head slumped slightly.

“Blevins sent you, right?” A flash of recognition ran across the redhead’s face at the mention of the name.

“You’re a smart cookie, so when it comes to it I’ll make it quick,” The redhead replied. “However, right now I need to try and get my life back before it’s too late.” Without uttering another word the woman left the bedroom, closing the door firmly behind her.

“Okay, as I was saying, I think loony tune there is here to kill you.” Andrew continued from where he left off.

“I sort of figured that out, thanks.” Jane replied. “So, what are you doing here?”

“It seems that I’m her get-out-of-jail-free card for now.” He added as he wriggled around in his seat. “Well, we appear to have some time on our hands. So, what’s your story…?”

****

Sulphurous words filled the air as Verity tried to get a signal on the phone. Walking towards the exit, she stepped out into the early evening air and watched for some sign of life from the device. The moment one small bar appeared her fingers dialled a number she had found in Gosling’s phone and committed to memory. Bringing it to her ear, Verity waited for the call to be connected.

“Blevins, this is Verity Ward.” Her voice was forceful and authoritative. “I’m just about to deal with your last little problem, but before I do I need you to do something for me first…”

****

Sitting in the car, driving through Worcestershire, the ring tone tore through the silence. Almost fumbling it away as she answered it, Leah looked at the display.

“Emma, tell me you have some good news.”

“I’ve picked up your husband’s mobile phone signal again thirty seconds ago – its weak and I haven’t been able to get a solid lock on it, but I’m sending the details to your phone.” Emma Gilson explained from her desk in a quiet corner of the impersonal office. “There are two buildings within five hundred metres of the signal; a farmhouse and what looks like an over-grown bungalow. I’m sorry that I can’t be anymore specific than that.”

“That’s more than enough Emma, thank you.” Leah replied.

“Boss, I can have a team there in an hour…” Emma offered.

“No, you’ve already done enough as it is – I can handle it from here on in. Besides, this was a favour and I don’t want you getting into trouble on my part – you could get fired for this.” Leah balanced the phone between her ear and her shoulder as she pulled a pair of gloves free from her bag. “I’ll speak to you later Emma. I owe you one.” She ended the call and looked at the display on the small screen. Taking a USB cable from the satellite navigation system and plugging it into the device, the data was transmitted onto the in-car system.

“I’ll take the farmhouse,” Suri said. “You take the bungalow – it’s the nearer of the two.”

****

“…so, from what I understand,” Jane said. “Blevins was contracting out the skills of his team members to the highest bidder. Foreign nationals, organised crime figures, political dissidents, corporate takeovers; he was gas-lighting the team with intelligence reports and profile briefings so they thought everything they were doing was above board.”

“When in reality it was all off-the-books, right?” Andrew added. “A sort of knock-down priced contract killing operation for a fraction of the cost of the open market version.” Jane nodded.

“You’re a fast learner.” She said. “Everything was going swimmingly until one of his junior staff cottoned on to it.” She replied with a sick, sad sounding laugh. “She was auditing the monthly expenses claims when she picked up on a discrepancy in the payment profile for Blevins himself – he’d submitted a claim for a business trip to Oslo when he was supposed to be in the office. After she had dug around abit – a quick cross-reference here, a few phone calls there – she realised that his trip coincided with that of a leader of a radical Hungarian political party by the name of Gurgarov.” She shook her head. “She found video footage of Blevins and Gurgarov having dinner together; two days later, Gurgarov’s primary political opponent was found dead from a suspected drug overdose, removing Gurgarov’s last obstacle in his bid for election to the Hungarian parliament. There were travel documents on file authorising an operative to travel to Hungary to eliminate a member of a terrorist cell that Blevins had authorised…”

“…who just happened to match the description of Gurgarov’s political opponent, right? Let me guess what follows next; she decides to blow the whistle on it all and Blevins has her killed?” Andrew said. Jane nodded, the motion of her movements made her chair move slightly.

“I…I think I killed her – plus the bodyguards that had been assigned to protect her – and I don’t really remember that much of it.” Neither of them spoke for a minute. “Then I had my accident and the rest is all so much fuzzy history. I’ve already had one person try to kill me since then – I’ve sort of been expecting this sort of thing to happen.”

“Okay, so at least we know why little Miss Stone-Cold-Killer is here,” Andrew said. “The issue is what do we do about it?” He began to move his hands, feeling the plastic tie digging into his flesh.

“What are you trying to do?” Jane responded to his question with one of her own.

“Well, as much as I’d like to think my wife is currently trying to find me and bringing the cavalry to boot, I’m a firm believer in making your own luck.” The look on his face was a mixture of concentration and reactions to the painful consequences of his movements. “I read something once that these plastic zip-lock things have a tendency to fail if you can just get the little insert section to twist ninety degrees…” There was the sound of movement outside the door, prompting Andrew to stop what he was doing. The barrier to the room opened and Verity entered.

“Well, good news boys and girls, this little ordeal will soon be over.” The glee in her voice was clear to hear. “For me, this means I’ll be able to leave the country safe in the knowledge that my face isn’t on the top ten most wanted boards of every law enforcement agency in the Western world. For you, however, it does mean that your lives will be coming to an end. So I suggest you make your peace with whatever God you follow because it won’t be long before you go to meet your maker kiddies!” The door slammed shut once more, leaving Andrew and Jane alone.

“At least someone seems chipper about all this.” Jane muttered. “So, what now? We just wait for her to kill us?” Jane asked. Andrew looked at her and smiled.

“Well, I’m all for getting out of here.” he said, pulling his hands around from his back and demonstrating clearly that he had been able to escape his shackles.

“Please tell me you have some sort of plan.”

“Actually I do.” Andrew replied, standing up from the chair and stretching his legs out to ward off cramp. “Have you got anything in here that can help us?”

“Top draw of the bedside cabinet. Be careful – it squeaks abit.” Jane answered. Andrew walked across to it and pulled it open as gently as possible. As he looked down at the contents of the draw his face lit up.

“Oh yes – that’s my second favourite battery-operated device to find in a woman’s bedside cabinet.”

****

“…and what time does that flight leave?” Verity was scribbling down the details on a piece of paper. “Fantastic – thanks for your help, I’ll see you soon.” She switched the phone off and tossed it onto the counter in the kitchen. Her momentary sense of relief was shattered by the sound of something heavy falling over in the bedroom. Scooping up her gun, she shook her head in mock despair. “Well, no time like the present I guess.”

Opening the door to the bedroom she could see that her target was still in her wheelchair, however the window to the room was now open. The chair she had placed Andrew in was now tipped over and the plastic zip tie was on the floor. Glaring at Jane, Verity stepped forward, raising her firearm.

“Tell me he’s gone out of the window.” She hissed. Jane looked at her.

“Actually, he’s behind the door there.” Jane replied.

“You don’t honestly expect me to fall…” The words were cut off mid-sentence as something was jabbed against Verity’s neck. The surge of electricity suddenly coursing through her body from the two electrodes touching her skin caused muscles to spasm, resulting in an errant gun shot cannoning into the floor. Her jaw locked into place, grinding her teeth together as the current flowed through her physique. Almost as quickly as it had started, it was over – the five second charge from the stun gun has dissipated and Verity Ward collapsed to the floor, rendered immobile.

“Grab the gun!” Jane cried out as Andrew stepped out from behind the door, holding the stun gun in his hand. Verity lay on the bedroom floor, twitching wildly with strange, garbled sounds coming out of her mouth. “Quickly! I don’t know how long she’ll be out for.” Andrew managed to pry the pistol free from Verity’s grasp, handing it to Jane. “Now tie her to the chair.”

“Jesus you’re bossy,” Andrew said as he tried to lift Verity into the chair. He turned around and saw that Jane was holding out the two plastic ties that he’d removed from her own wrists just prior to creating their trap. “No wonder someone is trying to kill you.” He said as he secured Verity’s wrists as best as he could – her muscle spasms were less violent now although her head was lolling back against the back of the chair, making her eyes roll back into her head. He placed his fingers against the pulse in her neck. “She’s still alive.”

“Shock her again.” Jane said. Andrew looked at her.

“That’s not necessary.”

“I don’t care if it’s necessary, the bitch was going to kill me; shock her again.”

“No.” Andrew responded with his Dad voice – the one the kids encountered when he was putting his foot down. “I won’t stoop to that level.”

“Well I will – give me the stun gun and I’ll…”

“I said no.” Andrew barked at her. “Now, let’s see if we can sort out some sort of help here.”

****

Without looking back at Suri as she drove off, Leah moved as quickly as she could towards the bungalow. By the time she had reached the perimeter of the property her heart was beating faster. Trying to calm her breathing, she could feel the cold nervous sweat breaking out on her forehead. Gripping tightly on the butt of the pistol in her right hand she started to skirt around the house, looking for a suitable entry point.

The sound of a single gunshot rang out in the evening air and Leah charged towards the building, fearing the worst.

****

“Found my phone.” Andrew called out as Jane wheeled herself out of the bedroom. “There’s no bloody signal in here – I’m going to try outside.” Andrew headed directly for the front door.

“Great – I need the toilet.” Jane said, rotating herself around in a tight circle and heading off to the small room at the back of the building.

As he opened the door and stepped out onto the small porch, a sudden movement to his right caught him off-guard. He turned and found himself looking straight at his wife.

“Leah…”

“Oh God…” Leah threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around him and hugging him tightly. Her momentum knocked them both to the ground. She kissed him passionately. “Jesus…I was so worried…”

“I can’t believe…” Andrew replied, surprised at the strength of her hold on him. “I thought…I mean, I hoped…”

“Where is she?” Leah said. Andrew saw something switching over in her mind.

“In the house, tied to a chair.” Leah helped Andrew to his feet, and then he saw that she was holding a gun in her hand. “Its okay – everything is under control.” He reached for the front door, opening it and allowing Leah to cross the threshold. “I managed to…”

Blam!

The gunshot startled both of them. Leah stepped in front of Andrew, her pistol raised. Moving cautiously forwards she gestured for Andrew to stay where he was. Footstep followed footstep until she reached the open bedroom door. She spun into the opening, pistol at the ready.

Leah found herself staring at a vaguely familiar woman in a wheelchair cradling a 9mm pistol in her lap. Across from her was the figure of a redheaded woman tied to the chair, a single neat bullet hole in her chest. Leah felt a presence over her shoulder; she turned to try and stop Andrew from seeing the scene. The shock on his face was evident.

“Why?” Jane simply looked away without answering his question.

****

76 Burrow Street

Sunday am

After several hours of questioning from various local and more further a field law enforcement agencies, Suri dropped Andrew and Leah off at home, promising to return at some point early the following week if Andrew felt he needed to discuss things further. As they crawled into bed in a strangely silent house, Andrew put his arms around Leah and pulled her close to him.

“You know if she’d done anything to you I would have killed her, right?” Leah confessed to him. Andrew nodded.

“I know – but that’s different. I can understand that.” He said. “I can’t understand why she shot her though – what purpose does that serve?”

“It tells whoever was after her that she isn’t willing to be found without there being consequences for them.” Leah explained. “No matter how hard they push, she’s prepared to push back. Force of will and all that.”

“But it’s so…pointless.”

“I know, but some people are just wired that way.” She looked up at him. “Promise me something.”

“Sure – shoot.”

“That if anything like that happens again you won’t try to be a hero.”

“I wasn’t trying to be one tonight – I was trying to stay alive for you and the kids.” Leah reached up and stroked his face before kissing him. “Besides, I’m sort of hoping it won’t happen again.” She rested her head on his chest. “Are you tired?”

“No. Why?”

“Because I really need to make love to you after everything that’s happened.” The urgency in Andrew’s voice tugged at something deep inside Leah’s soul. “Because I thought I wasn’t going to see you again and that thought scared the shit out of me.” He looked into her eyes. “I have no idea how you managed to do it for all those years.”

“Oh, that’s easy.” Leah replied as she straddled him. “I knew I was coming home to you.”