The Assassin's Gift

by C. P. IRVINE, IAN

  Her plan was to drive through the hills and somehow come into Arrochar from behind and from above.

  She read the maps, and believed it to be possible, but it would require some good hiking late at night to get into place.

  The initial part of the drive was not as difficult as she had feared, but about half way there, the road became more difficult, and dangerously full of pot holes.

  Luckily the hand held GPS unit held out, and she was able to place herself accurately on the map. Several miles north east of a group of houses in an area called Succoth, she parked up, got her kit together and began the hike.

  Crossing some fields, and using whatever tracks she could find, she circumnavigated Succoth and headed up behind it.

  Once she had some elevation on the mountain at the back of Arrochar behind McKenzie's rental cottage, she took a break and surveyed the area again.

  Her plan was simple. Relatively.

  Alessandra feared that a professional team had been dispatched to monitor McKenzie. She may be wrong. Perhaps there was no one. Perhaps McKenzie had indeed actually been hung out to dry, abandoned by the Scottish police authorities and left alone like a lamb in a field surrounded by foxes.

  It was possible.

  But not probable.

  This meant that Alessandra had a significant challenge on her hands.

  Exactly who was protecting or monitoring McKenzie she didn't know, but her suspicion was that it could be someone of the calibre of the SAS.

  Perhaps a small team, using this as live training.

  Or an elite Police team.

  Either way, she had to think like them.

  Luckily, a lot of her training, expensive training, had been under the supervision of ex-SAS professionals.

  She knew how they thought. How they behaved. Their modus operandi.

  Which led Alessandra to the only obvious plan possible at this time.

  She couldn't go after McKenzie until she knew where the 'Observation Team' were, and how many. She had to find them.

  She'd already thought long and hard about possible deployment points, and now, looking down on the cottage from its rear at quite some distance, she confirmed her previous thoughts.

  There would be at least one person monitoring the cottage from the front, with a view of the driveway, seeing who went in and out.

  And there would be one, possibly two agents, officers or soldiers deployed at the rear of the cottage with a view through the rear windows of the cottages.

  They would be positioned at different points on the hill. At least one would have the view of the driveway, possibly from the side, and the other would have the rear view. Probably not too high up, otherwise they would not be able to see through the windows.

  Studying the area from above, and referring occasionally to the map, she made her mind up.

  She marked two places on the map where she thought two team members could be, indicating the positions she would choose if she were one of them.

  It was important not to get too close to where she thought they would be. Her hope was that they would be looking forward, and not backward, and that if like her, they were equipped with night vision capability, they would not look back and see her thermal image as she hiked into place.

  There was a risk, but she had no choice.

  Not yet armed, if they saw and came after her, she had a weak cover story, but ultimately, she would be in a precarious position. However, were she armed, she would have no chance at all: if they saw her and surprised her before she was aware of them, her weapon would be useless and only heighten the seriousness of the situation.

  At this stage it was best that she were just a tourist, hoping to take photographs of nocturnal animals.

  Hence the camouflaged hide. Her expensive camera, primarily to be used as a prop. And her night vision goggles.

  Thinking more positively though, she was determined to get into place, go to ground just like she had achieved above Loch Ness, and from her disguised, hidden and elevated position, spend as long as it might take to scour the area using her night-vision binoculars to find the heat images of whoever was monitoring and guarding McKenzie.

  Optimally, it might turn out to be as simple as an owl looking for mice at night time.

  She would be the owl, and the 'Observation Team' the mice.

  Alessandra had brought supplies. If she could see no one by night, she was prepared to spend the next twenty-four hours on the ground looking patiently in daylight and then again the next evening, possibly from a different location.

  They were there. Somewhere.

  And she would find them.

  -------------------

  The Arrochar Hills

  Monday 1.49 a.m.

  She spotted the first one after only thirty minutes.

  The heat signature was unmistakable. She'd seen similar many times before in training.

  It was a human, lying on the ground, covered with some material, facing away from her, pointing in the direction of McKenzie's cottage.

  She felt an initial elation upon confirming her theory, but it brought no lasting relief. Now she knew for certain a team was in place, she could not progress any other plans for McKenzie until she found the others, and dealt with them.

  She recorded his position, observed him for a while, then starting searching for the others.

  If she couldn't find any other heat signatures, her fear was that she may have to change position. The heat signatures of the others could be hidden by the undulating terrain, or because it was obscured by an object or the trees.

  Now she had the rear observer, and that guess had proven correct, she had a good idea of where to first search for the next one.

  Turning her attention to the right of the cottage, and to the elevated ground above the tree line, she started there.

  Of course, the second observer could be within the forest, so long as he had a view of the front of the cottage, but it was unlikely. An observer in the trees may have a direct view of the front door, from the side, but the spread of the trees would detract from a wider view of the front of the house.

  It occurred to her then, that actually, if the front view of the house was wide enough, then perhaps a second viewer would suffice. There may not be a need for a third person on the street, or on the loch, directly in front of the house.

  A two-man team would be enough.

  A four man team in all, allowing for shift work.

  It was just a thought, but a good one.

  Alessandra longed for a coffee, but she had not brought one with her, because of the heat signature it could possibly add to her own. So it was a diet Coke. She had long ago gone off caffeinated drinks, but in her line of work, they had a place: a little caffeine helped her stay awake.

  As she lay there, scanning the surrounding terrain with her thermal night vision field glasses, in spite of her usual ability to focus on any job at hand, her mind began to wander.

  She couldn't help thinking about everything that had happened to her recently.

  Her sighting of the monster. The Gift. The 'healings' she had done. The community of lost souls - of which she was one - at the Loch Ness Hilton, and lastly of Amelia.

  A recurring feeling began to wash through her.

  Or was it doubt?

  Each time it appeared, she blinked, shook her head and refocused.

  Staring into the darkness, looking for something that might not even be there, as the minutes turned into hours, it became harder and harder to keep on top of things.

  And then she saw it. Just above the area where she thought another person might well be stationed, the heat signature of a person appeared. Why she hadn't seen it before, she didn't know.

  It was clearly a single person lying on the ground.

  Zooming in, she could even see the heat signature of the person's hand gripping the barrel of the rifle and the night scope.

  Perhaps they had moved position slightly and terrain which previously bl
ocked her view of them no longer did. Or maybe they had moved their location.

  Whatever the reason, she had them now.

  She took a mental note and jotted the location down in her note book.

  Alessandra was pleased.

  She was rapidly coming round to the idea of a two man team in operation at any time.

  The next question was how many shifts were they operating and how often and when did they change?

  If they changed three times a day that might mean a six man team in total. The others may be somewhere close by, such that if they were called, they could be there at a moment's notice.

  Presumably the person on the right, just sighted, would be the person in charge, and if he or she saw someone coming up to the front of the house from the road, they would call the person at the rear, and alert the others.

  Or simply move in and attempt to take out or capture the intruder themselves.

  Relieved that she now had the intelligence she probably needed, Alessandra settled down for the rest of the evening.

  She need to find out next when they changed shift, and from where the next team would come.

  Also, did the team have any contact with McKenzie in the cottage, or were they working indirectly and coming and going without his knowledge.

  One of the most important characteristics needed to help her be successful in her job was patience.

  Fortunately she possessed patience in abundance.

  It was four hours, at six o'clock on the dot, before anything else mildly interesting happened, when she saw two others appear from above the tree line on her right. By this time it was already light, and she could see the people in full view with normal binoculars.

  Army.

  Probably SAS.

  The worst news possible.

  Her heart sank.

  One of them immediately replaced the person on the hill on the right. She saw the figure on the ground stand up, shake hands with the replacement, and then quickly leave.

  The other figure came down the hill, crossed to where the other observer was, exchanged a high-five and a few words, then left the way the replacement had arrived.

  From where she was lying, she could not see the shore or the road that ran alongside of it, its view being obscured by the trees and the house and the raised ground. Which meant that Alessandra couldn't tell if the observers were dropped off and delivered by a vehicle, and if so, where that vehicle was parked.

  She made a mental note.

  She would be back the next night to view the activity again. Except she would be watching from the other side, waiting down in the trees along the shore.

  If a car or van came to pick them up, she would hopefully be able to count the number of people in it, thus confirming how many people were in the team that was protecting McKenzie.

  She waited another couple of hours until she began to see other hikers arriving in the area, committed to an early start on the mountains, then when to the best of her knowledge there was no one else around, she popped up and started walking briskly back to her car.

  Blatantly obvious. Easily visible. Obviously not a person with anything to hide.

  Just a normal walker or hiker en route somewhere and starting another day in the mountains.

  An hour later she was at her rented cottage, showered, in bed and fast asleep.

  As she succumbed to sleep, she thought of McKenzie.

  She thought of the Gift.

  The contradiction.

  And cursed the Gift for the hundredth time that day.

  Only two days ago she had saved someone's life.

  In the next few days, she would take one away.

  It was all becoming a little confusing.

  Chapter 39

  Arrochar

  Tuesday 2.30 a.m.

  Alessandra's supplies should arrive later that day. With any luck, she would be fully operational by the evening.

  Her plans were now forming clearly in her mind.

  Everything was coming together.

  Except...

  She was having weird thoughts.

  Lying under her hide, staring out into the night, she had already confirmed the location of both targets, in almost exactly the same locations as the night before.

  Tonight however, she could see the target on the left more clearly.

  She herself had moved her position slightly, and from her new location, she had a direct view of Target No 2, the one on the hill.

  In many ways, Alessandra enjoyed the times she spent like these, lying in wait, patiently observing, still, quiet.

  The world today was so fast, so hectic, but times likes these spent out in the open, in fresh air, away from noise, pollution and the rat race which was becoming more international every day, were in many ways, quite wonderful.

  She would normally spend the time either with an empty brain, - no thoughts, no stress, no worries, the ultimate relaxation - , or with a clear mind, capable of incisive thought.

  Tonight, however, was different.

  Her thinking was slightly different from normal.

  Befuddled.

  In short, she was considering in much too much detail, the whole meaning of life.

  Upon waking that afternoon, after a long, refreshing sleep, she had been standing in the shower just about to turn the water on, when she had seen an insect crawl out of the drain.

  For a moment, she had thought of washing it back down the drain and drowning it. Killing it.

  Then she had thought that it might be better to save it.

  To pick it up and put it out of the window.

  The simple fact that she, Alessandra Moretti, could choose whether it lived or died, caused her to stand and stare at the insect for a few moments.

  In the end, she chose life over death, and bent down and picked it up.

  She opened the window and set it free, leaving it gently on the windowsill outside to scurry away.

  The incident with the insect had set off a whole series of strange thoughts throughout the rest of the day.

  To kill or not to kill. To cure or not to cure.

  She could do both.

  A mini-god in the making.

  The power of life or death.

  Of the two, which was more interesting, and more impressive?

  Which was right?

  And which was wrong?

  And now, lying under her camouflaged hide, watching Target One and Target Two surveying their world in search of herself, hunting the hunter, while she herself prepared to cull the hunted, for the first time in her career, she doubted herself.

  Should she actually kill McKenzie?

  There was a certain absurdity about going through so much effort to kill this man, only to have the ability to possibly cure him afterwards.

  However, granted, that was perhaps going too far: so far, her powers had only extended to curing illnesses in the living.

  Yet, she felt that whatever it was, the Gift was growing within her. Becoming more powerful. Evolving.

  It would not surprise her at all if soon she was to find herself able to bring someone back from the other side. To nullify the death she had given someone. To undo it.

  To give them life again.

  So, what was the point in killing them?

  She told herself it was for the money. The kudos. The respect.

  All the things she had craved for years ago.

  But were they really true?

  She had told herself lies for far too long now.

  Money?

  She was rich. She didn't need much more.

  She could make do with what she had. Especially after McNunn's assassination.

  She had enough to care for her mother, to renovate the house. To care for her.

  Her stocks and shares were soaring.

  She could sell now and retire.

  No, money was not the driver it had once been.

  And kudos?

  She was now at the top of her game. No. 1 in
the world. No one was better.

  Quit while you're ahead? Was that not what they said?

  Thoughts. Thoughts. And more thoughts!

  Stupid thoughts. Ridiculous thoughts. ABSURD thoughts.

  Alessandra was a killer. A paid assassin.

  "Killing is what I do! I'm damn good at it!" she swore under her breath.

  Never before, not since finally making the decision to leave Sicily had she been so abstracted.

  Arguing with herself.

  Self-doubt.

  Closing her eyes, she forced herself to quieten her mind.

  To concentrate.

  To focus.

  She breathed deeply. In. Out. In. Out.

  She listened to the night.

  The wind.

  The sound of nothing.

  An owl.

  Her own heartbeat.

  Slowly, calm returned.

  She blocked everything out.

  Finally, she was able to press that button in her mind, and engage her mission mode: that state of mind that blocked out everything but the process in front of her.

  And the ultimate success of the mission.

  -------------------

  The Arrochar Hills

  Monday 3.20 a.m.

  So long as the shift changed at 6 a.m. as yesterday, she believed she now had a plan in place.

  Just after four am, before the sun rose, she would leave her current position, and move back to her car, drive around, back and to the side of Loch Lomond, cross through Tarbet over to Arrochar, park her car, and walk around on the main road towards the start of the hike up Ben Arthur, the mountain on the far side of the sea-loch.

  Once in the trees, she would double back along through the tree-line, until she had a view of the road around the head of the bay.

  At 6 a.m., if the shift changed, and a van or car transported the night-watch back to a base somewhere, she might be able to see and count them.

  From her position in the trees she would hopefully be able to see if anyone else also popped out of the surrounding shrubberies, hidden so well that Alessandra had not yet spotted them.