Operation Snowdrop

by Michelle Medhat

“Something wrong, Dan?”

  “Are we really going to kill Sabena?”

  The question gripped Sam and flipped his stomach unexpectedly. He didn’t like Dan’s tone. It carried disbelief, and for the sake of Snowdrop, he had to quash it immediately.

  “Yes…Yes, of course we are. It’s an A2. You know it is, Dan. We all know that,” Sam responded sharply, looking around at the rest of the team, who nodded. “You know there’s gonna be a shit storm erupting when she gets hit. We’re going to have to fucking fly, otherwise, we’ll be mincemeat.”

  Sam stared at Dan and then caught Jim and Greg’s fear as it surfaced. They were both seasoned agents, and already, Sam could see they were putting the pieces together and growing uncomfortable by the sum of it all. They knew the repercussions of taking out a high-value target like Sabena. They knew the consequent tidal wave of terrorist activity would deluge all the security services across the UK with more crap than they could handle.

  Recognition was in their eyes. The pieces didn’t fit. Sam watched as they turned to him, the fires of doubt now alive in their confused expressions.

  He had to stamp out those flames.

  “Look, guys, Sabena’s the architect in a plot to take out River House. She’s a direct threat to Six. To us. This has come down from on high. They want her annihilated. The risk of her not dying and continuing with her plot to destroy Six is greater than what may happen after she’s dead.”

  Sam didn’t flinch in his flawless lie. For all he knew, Sabena really could be plotting to bring down Six. Sam read his team’s faces. Had they bought it?

  Jim’s mouth twitched a little at the edges, Greg rubbed the side of his nose subconsciously, and Dan scratched the back of his neck. The tells showed Sam all three were processing what he’d just said.

  “Why didn’t you tell us about this plot before?” pressed Jim.

  “Need to know basis,” said Sam coldly.

  “We’re your team. We needed to know,” hit back Dan. Despite his junior status, he was quite a fighter.

  “No, you didn’t. It didn’t come into mission parameters. The risk boundaries were set without the need for any of you to know.”

  “Who the hell set the risk boundaries?” asked Greg, getting in on the act.

  “I did,” answered Sam with a taciturn tone. “And I didn’t tell you as I thought you knowing the real stakes might put additional pressure on an already tight operation. Now you know. Can we get on?”

  Team Aphrodite looked at each other. Belief was back in their eyes, but now, something else had risen: fear of failure, and what that would imply for their colleagues.

  “This may be our last chance, guys. Sabena has to go, at any cost. Are you all in?”

  Sam pushed for a final consensus. They all had to be with him for Snowdrop to work.

  All three nodded, and exclaimed in unison, “We’re in.”

  Minutes later, Sam pressed down the accelerator in the i8, speeding out of the private airfield adjacent to Peretola Airport and onto Via Alessandro Guidoni. He watched the Lancia Delta in the review mirror trying desperately to catch up with the mega horsepower of the beastie underneath his feet.

  It had been a close call back there. He didn’t like to lie to his team, but he had no choice. Dan had opened Pandora’s Box and those secrets were in danger of pouring out unrestricted. Jim and Greg were too smart not to realize that something else was going down. He had to kill any chance of them not following orders. Mutiny in any form was something he just couldn’t risk.

  As Sam sped up the road, the Lancia fell back further. With his foot flat on the peddle, he knew he was trying to get away from his colleagues. It was as if he was trying to get away from everything. He didn’t want to face the next few hours, but he knew he had to.

  Kinley, where the fuck are you, mate? I hope you’re in a good place because right now, I sure as hell ain’t.

  Sam pressed on the radio. Some sixties Italian ballad kicked in, and Sam knew immediately where he’d heard it. Almost all the bloody time in their apartment! Che Vuole Questa Musica Stasera. It was one of Ellie’s favorite songs. Whilst learning Italian, she focused on understanding the lyrics to Italian songs as a way to cement her understanding of the language. She loved this one.

  Well, the music was sure messing with him tonight!

  Ellie was the very last person he wanted to think about. He slammed off the radio and tried to extinguish all visions of her as he sped on into a darkness he welcomed. Shooting down onto SS67, the Lancia was lost way behind.

  It was where Sam wanted them to be. He had to be alone with himself. It was time to face his demons and find a way to reconcile the horrific outcomes that the mission would demand of him.

  Chapter 23

  Coming whilst landing.

  It’s a first for me, but I can see it isn’t for Sabena. It could be a very special experience if Angie was on top of me instead of that psycho-sadistic sex fiend.

  “Ah, Mr. Kinley, you literally made the Earth move for me!” whispers Sabena in my ear, and she giggles like a crazy maniac at her inane comment.

  Gravity kicks in with a slight bump and I arch, pushing upward, to Sabena’s pleasure. She screams and grips my shoulders, her sharp talons for nails digging into me, drawing blood. Well, at least they match the scars across the rest of my body.

  Sabena holds me tight and shakes. As her head tips back, I think, or rather hope, she is having some kind of seizure. Then she throws her mane of auburn hair forward, growling like a tiger.

  “Wow-ee, Mr. Kinley. I’m never letting you go!”

  I smile and rub her arm, but inside, where Sabena can’t see or get to, I wrap my soul in an unbreakable shield and pray I haven’t submerged so much into the darkness that I’m not redeemable. I hate every cell of my body for what I’ve done, but this was always the way with this mission. I knew from the outset I’d have to cross so many lines I’d previously told myself I’d never cross. And it isn’t over yet. If all I have to do to win over Al Nadir is give Sabena a few shags, then I’ll get off lightly. But deep down, I know this is only the beginning.

  Snowdrop’s operation specifics stated I had to ‘cozy up with Sabena and Al Nadir.’ Well, you can’t get more cozy than where I am right now.

  Angie trips into my head, scolding my behavior and slapping me hard, telling me I’m a disgusting pervert. Angie. Oh my God. Angie. She will never understand. Any notion of what I’ve done, and she’ll walk, and I’ll lose the truest thing that gives my life meaning. That’s why my cover as Head of STEE is so vital. It protects our sweet love and keeps it pure and free from the filth I’d just endured.

  Sabena climbs off me. I glance at her while she clothes herself in her crimson Azzedine Alaïa skirt suit that fits her naked body exquisitely. Her muscles give her the strength to equal any guy I know. There’s no getting around it, Sabena is mouthwatering. But she uses her body like a weapon, and a killer one at that, and that knowledge leaves me numb.

  I pull on my shirt, and ask casually, “What time is it?”

  I haven’t seen a clock since I was originally knocked out in Sabena’s hotel room. I know that back then, it was nearly five. But how many hours have passed since then, I don’t know. Is it still the twenty-seventh, or has time gone on much longer than my brain can perceive? Has the auction taken place? Is Team Aphrodite alive or dead?

  In that black room, days could have passed, and I’d never have known. Only perhaps the hunger of not having eaten would have told of the duration I’d spent alone. Food. I haven’t eaten for a while. My stomach aches. But is that more to do with Sabena’s harsh exercise than not having eaten? I’d gone five days without eating once when I’d been captured on the border of North Korea near the demilitarized zone. I’d not been given any food, and only swallowed the water that was thrown at me. But I’d survived long enough for Sam and an elite band of Special Forces to get me out of that hell hole.

  “Time for you to get a move on, Mr. Kinley. W
e can’t hang around here, as much as I’d like to.”

  Sabena snatches my chin in her fingers and pulls my face toward her. I feel her lips upon me, powerful and demanding. I pull away a little as I sense eyes watching, and see Pedro stood in the doorway, smirking as he moves forward. I try to grab a glance at his watch.

  Ten past ten? Or ten past nine?

  He moves his hand subconsciously over his wrist, obscuring my view.

  Sabena snaps her head up in Pedro’s direction.

  “What the fuck is it? Can’t you see I’m busy?” she snarls.

  “Dr. Sanantoni, apologizes for the interruption, but you have a call on the satcom.”

  “Important?”

  “Very. Dr. Al Douri wants a status update.”

  I listen. Al Douri himself. I have to be in on that satcom call.

  “Tell him, Sabena. Tell him about me. I’m at his disposal, as well as yours.”

  My eyes grow wide and pleading.

  Sabena laughs.

  “Be careful, Mr. Kinley. If Salim sees you, he may take you up on that, and believe it when I tell you, his obsessions are fiercer than mine.”

  Pedro sniggers, knowing more backstory than I care to imagine on that remark. Sabena casts him one of her, ‘I’ll be dissecting you alive if you don’t can it,’ looks. Pedro swallows and his face loses some of its color.

  “Dr. Sanantoni, I’ll tell Dr. Al Douri you will be along soon.”

  “Yep, you do that, imbecile!” snaps Sabena. She turns to me. “Excuse me, Mr. Kinley, duties press upon me.”

  I shrug as I stand and pull up the zip on my trousers. I doubt she cares one iota about my feelings. It is all just a sick, twisted game for her. Sabena notes my indifference and purses her lips, suddenly snarling. I don’t know what she wants, but playing at ‘happy couples’ seems to be a thing for her. It seems I’ve screwed up again.

  “Play nice, Mr. Kinley. I could make things very difficult for you. Right now, I like you too much, but continuation of that state is down to you.”

  I have to flip Sabena again.

  I take her arm. She looks down as if appalled by my forthright touch. I can see in her eyes that everything should be on her terms. Making such a move is very dangerous. I see her hand balling into a fist and I know she’ll knock me down.

  I speak fast.

  “Sabena, I am playing nice. I’m giving you so much more than just me. I’m prepared to help you, whatever it takes, to destroy MI6, and with it, the British Government. I want those fuckers to pay for everything. For their perpetual injustice, their arrogance and their corruption. They say they live to give the people of the UK a better life, but in truth, they live for greed. I want the government and their whole fucking security apparatus on their knees.”

  I’m shouting now. Pedro pokes his head in to see if all is ok, but Sabena pushes him out. She is caught in my address. I feel the hatred flow in my veins. Those bastards in their ivory towers, far removed from the front line, are the reason I’ve done what I’ve just done with Sabena. Why I’d sullied my precious temple of Angie’s love with that crazy human viper.

  At that very second, I really do want to bring them all down.

  Sabena stares and I know she is looking deep inside me, and she obviously sees something, for she grabs my arm and hauls me out. She locks one of my arms behind my back and frog-marches me to the main lounge area of the plane.

  I don’t ask why. I’ve learnt to go with events and let them play out.

  Sabena stops in front of the screen that had earlier been a map of the world. I look at the screen and realize, this is it. This is the goal. The purpose of Snowdrop.

  To get to the most wanted man on the planet.

  Salim Al Douri.

  Salim stares out from the screen, his handsome face drawing in tight around his cheeks, very annoyed at being left to wait a few minutes. Even if I didn’t know who he was, in seconds, I could see this man is extremely dangerous.

  “At last, Sabena. Where the fuck have you been? I haven’t all day just to swan around waiting for you to make an appearance.”

  I watch Sabena squirm, and her tall, slender body seems to fold inward a little as if she’s bending forward to ingratiate herself to Salim, as though he’s a king.

  “Salim, darling, I’m sorry for delaying you. But I have something that I think will remedy any tardiness on my part.”

  I hear in Sabena’s address that every word she speaks is consciously selected as she maneuveres through Salim’s emotional and highly-volatile minefield. Her cock-sure arrogance and sadistic posturing are gone. Her subservient tone leaves me in no question as to the positioning of Al Nadir’s second in command with Al Douri.

  Suddenly, Sabena yanks me in front of the screen.

  Not even the super sharp Tom Ford suit can disguise, after Sabena’s vicious attentions, that I look a total mess. Salim, on the other hand, is the very picture of preening supremacy. Dressed in his designer garb, I wonder how this man, who looks like he’s stepped off the pages of GQ could be such a monster.

  “Who’s this?” asks Salim, regarding me with repugnance. I feel his piercing stare lock onto mine, interrogating every inch of my being.

  “This is Matthew Kinley, a very embittered MI6 agent who wants to help us bring down the Intelligence Services and, in the process, bring the British Government to its knees.”

  Salim eyes me with deepening suspicion.

  “Why should I believe him?”

  Sabena leaps to my defense.

  “He told me about an ‘eyes-only’ operation to take Summanus and assassinate me. I checked. Our assets in MI6 confirmed the kill order came from Ashton himself. It’s all true, Salim. Kinley’s words check out.”

  Salim doesn’t move. His face is stone. He doesn’t even blink.

  I stare, but not too intrusively, into the background. I can’t discern the location. The place has pale grey walls, minimalist furniture and low lighting. It could be a warehouse, cave, dungeon, or even a lawyer’s conference room in Canary Wharf.

  Very slowly, Salim narrows his eyes at me and shakes his head.

  “Not buying, Sabena. You’re being played.”

  Sabena is aghast but recovers quickly.

  “Salim, darling, this guy is the best asset we’ll ever have in British Intelligence. He hates them all, the government, the Firm, everyone. I’ve seen it in his eyes. But above all that, he really checks out. When he says he wants to flip, he’s legit.”

  Salim stares at me, weighing me up, analyzing me in detail. I know the tablet he glances down at has my personal details flashing up. I don’t realize how prescient I am until Al Douri comments, “Really beautiful wife, Kinley.”

  I can’t hold back the flash of anger as Salim steps right into my treasured place. But I realize he’s goading. So I channel my anger and launch it back to Salim in a positive way.

  “If you’re not interested in my proposition, I’ll take it to someone who has the balls to do something about it.”

  Sabena looks at me, terror and respect in her cold eyes.

  Salim laughs. He enjoys that kind of talk. I think I’ve won him over.

  But then he says, “If you don’t leave here alive, how are you going to take your deal to anyone else?”

  I feel foolish for my comment and I decline to answer. Internally, I’m playing him. I know that there is no one else. It’s only him. He has to see himself as the one taking control of me.

  Salim smirks. He thinks he’s pulled me down.

  “Okay, it’s all down to a simple case of verification. If all goes to plan, we’ll initiate him into Al Nadir, and fast-track his position in the organization. If it doesn’t, well, Sabena, you can spend a few hours doing what you love best, making little shits like him suffer a truly agonizing death.”

  I push back on Salim’s words and ignore the fact he may have just spelled out my future sentence.

  “So how do I verify?” snaps Sabena, clearly annoyed at having
both her judgement and her intelligence questioned.

  “Test him, Sabena. Test that little fucker beyond reasonable doubt.”

  Salim fixes me with a daggering stare and cold sneer. I know he didn’t buy my line.

  Before Sabena could protest, Salim cuts the communication. Furious, she grabs me and spins me around to face her. In her face, it’s plain; I am the reason she’d just fallen several rungs on Al Douri’s kudos ladder.

  “Test you, Mr. Kinley. I have just the ideal way to achieve a very fast result. After that, you’re either the real deal or a dirty liar.”

  Sabena’s flick-knife appears, and she presses the tip of the blade underneath my chin. I feel it penetrate, but I don’t wince. Sabena smiles.

  “Let’s hope, for the sake of the upholstery, at least, we find that you are the former.”

  In my heart, I agree.

  I never was one for dry cleaning.

  Chapter 24

  The moon shone, fierce and strong and lighting up the road, and Sam dared to believe that a brighter outcome would result from Snowdrop.

  Turning the wheel swiftly, the i8 clung to the road effortlessly and slipped off the Viale Antonio Gramsci onto Vitorrio Alfieri. Sam shot down the tight road like an arrow. He swung a right and headed down Via Giuseppe Giusti, noticing he was sharing the road with only a couple of other cars. He hung another right smoothly and zoomed down Borgo Pinti. Silently and within seconds, the aged walls of the Four Seasons Hotel loomed up fast on his left. Sam knew spectacular gardens lay behind the old stone, as well as the Garden Suite villa where, in less than fifteen hours, hell would descend upon Earth.

  Sam stopped outside the archway. The ornate lantern swayed gently in the breeze, and Sam looked up at it. Perhaps it was an indication of the storm that was brewing. The parking valet stepped up to park the Beemer as Sam climbed out of the car. He grabbed his traveler bag from the back, dropped the key into the valet’s hand, took the ticket and handed over a fifty-euro note.

  Clothed in Armani, his bag the latest LV, his watch a Rolex Oyster Perpetual and his cufflinks large solitaire diamonds, every inch of him stank of serious money. A woman in a figure-hugging electric blue bodycon and wrapped in a grey mink coat slinked past him to a waiting Merc. She stopped and turned around to eye Sam voraciously. Sam smiled at the woman, doffed his head her direction, recognizing her attention, and then turned and casually sauntered into the lobby. His walk carried the air of wealth; he was confident, assured and the master of his own destiny.