The Division Collection

by Angus McLean

  ‘What…what the fuck,’ Katie gasped. She spat and wiped a string of saliva from her chin. She unconsciously wiped her hand on the leg of her pants. ‘What the fuck was that?’

  Moore rubbed a hand over his face. ‘I think we pissed somebody off.’

  Chapter Nineteen

  The Turks were experienced at dealing with terrorist assaults, particularly after the ISIS attack on the Ankara Central Train Station not so many months ago, and in a short space of time the city was locked down.

  The bombing had everyone on edge, adding to the tension from the current air strikes over the border, and they barely made it out of the immediate vicinity before roadblocks were in place and armed Police and soldiers were swarming everywhere.

  Moore and Katie paused at a shop to buy bottled water and hand sanitiser which they used to wash the dirt and crap off themselves before each draining a bottle to rehydrate. Having lost their suitcases in the chaos back at the shopping centre they were once again in need of supplies, but didn’t have time to stop yet.

  They ditched their upper layers instead and bought replacement lightweight jackets at a street market before hopping a bus to the train station.

  Moore paid cash for tickets for the next train to Istanbul and while they waited they used the toilets to freshen up as best they could. He kept an eye on Katie when they regrouped and bought coffees. She loaded hers with sugar and downed it in silence, avoiding his gaze. He passed her the replacement passport JJ had supplied and a fold of cash in case they got separated.

  Once they were settled in their Economy Plus seats Moore ensured there was nobody within earshot before he leaned over and spoke quietly.

  ‘It’s okay to be a bit freaked out by it,’ he told her. ‘It’s a horrible experience to be in a situation like that.’

  Katie said nothing, just stared out the window as they rolled out of the station.

  ‘I don’t know who those guys were, but they were specifically targeting us,’ he said. ‘Somehow they knew we were there and picked us up. The two guys who came in after the bomber were the clean-up crew, there to make sure the job was done.’ He paused, choosing his words carefully. ‘The only way to deal with them was to meet force with force. It was them or us.’

  ‘What about the other people?’ Katie said quietly, her gaze still fixed out the window. ‘What about them? All those people? They did nothing.’ She gave a slight shake of her head. Her arms were folded tightly across her body. ‘They didn’t deserve that.’

  Moore nodded silently. ‘No,’ he said, ‘they didn’t. They were just innocent victims, in the wrong place at the wrong time. They did nothing to bring that hatred into their world.’ He touched her arm gently, and she jumped. He withdrew his hand. ‘And neither did you, so it’s okay to find that hard to get your head around.’

  Katie half turned now, looking at him sideways. Her arms were still wrapped across her belly, holding tight. ‘And you?’ she asked, an undercurrent of anger in her voice now. ‘What about you? Did you bring that hatred into our world?’

  Moore said nothing as he considered his answer. It was a curly question.

  ‘Who exactly are you?’ she persisted. ‘You just blew two dudes away and didn’t even blink an eye. I’m puking my fuckin’ guts out and you’re planning your next move.’ She took a breath and stared at him for a long moment. Her pulse was visibly throbbing in her neck. ‘That’s not normal, man. What’s up with that shit?’

  Moore gave a mental shrug. She needed to get her head around this and fast. If she didn’t, she’d be more of a liability than he already thought.

  ‘I do jobs like this for the Government,’ he said softly. ‘I used to be in the SAS.’

  Katie frowned at him quizzically, not comprehending.

  ‘Army Special Forces,’ he explained. ‘The Special Air Service.’

  She nodded. ‘Right. So this is all your buzz then? This is what you do.’

  He gave a short nod. ‘This is what I do.’

  Katie let out a slow breath and unfolded her arms, clasping her hands in her lap instead. ‘What the fuck has Natalie got herself into?’ she wondered aloud.

  Moore sat back and dug out his new iPhone. ‘That’s what we need to find out,’ he said.

  They fell into silence while Moore logged into a private chat room. He knew that at the other end there would be some overly intelligent geek monitoring all traffic who could get a message to Ingoe.

  Dawn light was creeping through the slats of the blind when Archer’s mobile buzzed on the bedside table.

  It was in his hand before the third ring sounded. The figure next to him stirred.

  ‘Yep.’ His throat felt dry and croaky. He hadn’t been asleep long.

  He listened, his eyes gradually easing open. They were gritty and sore. He nodded to himself as the caller came to the end of the message.

  ‘Right,’ Archer rasped, ‘I’m on the way.’

  He disconnected and slid the phone back onto the bedside table. He checked his watch and hit the back light. Time enough.

  He rolled over and slipped an arm around the slumbering form, inhaling her scent and burying his face in the nape of her neck. He felt her begin to respond.

  There was definitely time.

  Chapter Twenty

  Adapazari

  The Adapazari Railway Station was right in the city centre, so Moore and Katie disembarked and quickly lost themselves in the crowd. Police and soldiers were patrolling the area on foot and the tension in the air was palpable. A TV on the wall in the station was showing footage of the bombing scene and witnesses babbled excitedly to the camera, some in tears.

  The last thing they wanted was to be stopped for a shakedown or to stand out from the crowd, so they stayed among other pedestrians, all the while moving with purpose. As the crowds thinned out Moore took Katie’s hand and walked decisively to the street, never looking back as they lost themselves in the city centre. She didn’t protest at the sudden intimacy.

  It didn’t take long to find a quieter side street where they could regroup and get their bearings on the iPhone.

  ‘We need to either keep moving or stay put,’ Moore said. ‘The more we move, the more likely we are to run into a Police checkpoint or something. I’m banking on the cops not knowing who we are though, and our new passports should be enough to get us through.’

  ‘Someone knows who we are though,’ Katie interjected, ‘and where we were.’ Her brow furrowed. ‘Someone knows an awful lot.’

  ‘Too true,’ he agreed. He could see the stress in her face and her rigid shoulders, and knew she was feeling the immense pressure. ‘We could probably do with parking ourselves for a bit, getting a decent feed and hopefully hearing back from the powers that be.’ He gave her an encouraging look. ‘Don’t you think?’

  ‘I won’t argue that,’ Katie replied. ‘I’d kill for a good meal and a stiff drink.’

  ‘Done. But first,’ he gave a grin, ‘we need to do some more shopping.’

  ‘Fuck that, I hate shopping!’

  ‘Never had a woman argue against shopping before,’ he said, ‘but you can’t book into a decent hotel with no luggage.’

  Katie rolled her eyes. ‘I know, I know…it just sucks.’ She rolled her neck and shoulders as if warming up for a fight. Her joints popped as she moved. ‘Come on, let’s do it.’

  They took a cab to the impressive ADA Shopping Centre, which had exactly what they were looking for. Moore sensed that Katie needed company so stuck with her, patiently waiting while she ducked in and out of shops to make her purchases.

  He joined her in a pharmacy to purchase toiletries, otherwise he stayed out of the way. Forty five minutes in he handed her a cup of coffee and took her bags.

  ‘Better?’ he asked, as she took a hit of caffeine.

  ‘Mmm, better.’ She glanced around them at the usual hustle and bustle of the mall. Despite the signage it could’ve been a suburban mall in Anytown. ‘Certainly a better shopping experie
nce than last time.’

  He watched her for signs of overt emotion, but all he saw was sadness. She wrapped her hands around her cup as if she was cold.

  ‘Good,’ he said. ‘Well if you’re finished, you can help me get some gear.’

  ‘God, that’s more painful than shopping for myself,’ she groaned.

  ‘I’ll need some comfortable Y-fronts,’ he said, ticking off his fingers, ‘some flannelette PJs, Velcro shoes, and a nice pair of slacks. And maybe some adult nappies.’

  She pulled a face. ‘Okay, sorry about the old man joke. I can’t believe you’re still sore about that.’

  Moore cracked a smile. ‘Let’s go. It’s about time I had some new jeans anyway.’

  Ten minutes later he was done and everything was loaded into two suitcases. As Katie observed while waiting for a cab, it was deja vu.

  It was late afternoon by the time they checked into a hotel on the outer edge of the central business district.

  Moore reluctantly paid with a credit card, knowing that an electronic trail could easily be tracked. At least the card would have a record of use, having been used for regular subscriptions and random bookings like all the cards used to support legends.

  He had spent some time trawling the internet before deliberately selecting a standard 4-star hotel regularly used by tourists, knowing that they would melt into the background easily.

  A man his age with a much younger woman would stand out using a backpackers’ lodge, and he wanted to avoid arousing any suspicion. At least at this place he would just look like any other middle manager away for a dirty city break with his young secretary.

  Ideally they would keep moving, get some distance while they waited to hear back from HQ, but he sensed that the recent events had shaken Katie up more than she was letting on. If he was going to be stuck with her for any length of time he needed her to be in one piece.

  They took a room on the fourth floor and a porter carried their bags up. Closing the door behind the porter, who was happily tucking a cash tip into his pocket, Moore surveyed the room.

  The separate bedroom to the left had an inviting queen size bed that he was confident he would never get to use. The bathroom featured a spa bath which looked equally as inviting – again, he didn’t fancy his chances. He had a sudden mental image of Katie slipping naked into it and felt a kick in his chest.

  He glanced self-consciously at her, but she was too busy checking the mini bar to notice. He pushed the thought aside and tried the sofa in the living area. That would be his for the night.

  He dropped his bag on the luggage rack and took Katie’s into the bedroom. She appeared in the doorway behind him, a small bottle of gin in her hand. She fiddled idly with the cap as if unsure whether to open it or not.

  ‘Fill your boots,’ he told her. ‘I’m just doing a once-over before I get myself sorted.’

  ‘I wasn’t sure…are we actually going to stay here?’ She looked concerned. ‘Or is this another diversion?’

  ‘Unless we have to move for some reason, we’re getting our heads down here tonight,’ he said. ‘Tomorrow’s another day.’ He gave a smile. ‘That couch looks really comfy, so the bed’s all yours.’

  She gave a wry smile in return. ‘What a gentleman.’ She cracked the bottle open. ‘In that case I’m having a drink and a bath. I think I stink.’

  Moore took the bottle from her and stepped past, heading for the kitchenette. ‘I make a good gin and tonic,’ he said. ‘You get your bath ready.’

  He busied himself at the bench, half filling a glass with ice before adding a good measure of gin and topping it with a slug of tonic. He was pleased to find a lemon in a glass dish at the mini bar and took a knife to it, adding a healthy slice to the drink before carrying it into the bathroom.

  The bath was filling and Katie was watching it absently, her mind clearly elsewhere. Moore handed her the drink and she nodded her thanks. Her earlier confidence had gone and she had withdrawn into herself. She looked like a lost little girl as she took her first appreciative sip.

  ‘Wow,’ she said, ‘that’s got a kick.’

  Moore nodded. ‘I’ll be out there,’ he said.

  He closed the bathroom door behind him and finished his recce of the room. He wiped clean the small vegetable knife he’d used to cut the lemon, and put it aside as a potential weapon. He located a larger sharp knife and added that to the collection.

  The door seemed sturdy enough but the lock was flimsy like on most hotel doors. The screws securing the chain though were bedded properly into a solid frame, and he slipped the chain across. He shifted a chair from the table to just inside the entrance, ensuring the entry of any unwanted visitors would be temporarily obstructed.

  The windows didn’t open, but he could see a drainpipe within reach if the window were broken.

  Recce complete, he checked over his belongings and made sure he was ready to move quickly. He plugged the phone in to charge and checked the chat room messages.

  Nothing yet.

  Satisfied that, for now, everything that could be done had been done, he settled himself on the couch with the room service menu and a bottle of water. He heard the odd splash from the bathroom and some traffic noise outside but aside from that the room was silent.

  He reflected on the day and wondered again exactly how the bad guys – whoever they were – had tracked them. It was a problem that he knew sooner or later would have major consequences – although, of course, a bombing and shootout in a shopping mall was hardly minor. With that in mind he flicked on the TV, finding a local news channel that had current updates on the incident.

  It was all in Turkish with no subtitles, but it didn’t appear that there was anything new to report. Lots of serious looking people were talking sombrely and there were clips of the carnage.

  He knew how lucky they had been to escape with their lives today, and wondered just how long their luck would hold out.

  The more he thought about the mission the more he realised he didn’t know. But someone did, that much was clear. Someone was behind the scenes, pulling the strings. A puppet master, playing with lives, jerking the strings of the helpless marionettes like Moore and Katie in some macabre game.

  There was a name for them in intelligence circles, these people that lived in the shadows, blending with the night like cold blooded chameleons. People that made decisions and took actions that had terrible consequences for others, bringing death and mayhem and upheaval to innocent lives, bringing down governments, dictatorships and democracies alike.

  Known as shadow dancers, they were as much a part of the spy world as faceless bureaucrats, financially motivated allegiances and dead letter drops.

  Who the shadow dancers were who were at play here, Moore didn’t know. But he promised himself, before this mission came to a close, he would.

  And revenge would be sweet.

  Chapter Twenty One

  When Katie finally emerged from the bathroom she was dressed in jeans and a plain white T-shirt. Her hair was wet and her feet were bare.

  The strong gin had helped but her gut was sore from vomiting, and she was sure her eyes were still puffy. She wasn’t sure how she should feel – sad? Angry? Thankful she’d survived? She had no idea. She’d dealt with deaths and trauma before, but this was different. There weren’t too many suicide bombings in the Hutt Valley.

  She found Moore standing at the window, staring out at the twilight sky and the lights beyond the hotel. His back was to her and she watched for a moment, studying him. His broad shoulders tapered to a trim waist. His arms were muscular and hard. His legs were thick and strong.

  She wondered his age – he had the physique of someone probably ten years younger than she guessed he was. SAS, he had said. She knew a little about them, having grown up with a brother who had been an armchair warrior.

  Tough, ruthless soldiers. Highly trained killers.

  He had certainly shown that today, the way he’d first reacted to the bomber
and then taken out the two gunmen, barely batting an eyelid. Fast and efficient, all over before she even knew what was happening. She’d seen the Armed Offenders Squad in action back home, the Black Pyjama Boys as they were known, armed up and all in black, crashing into the lairs of bad men to take them down without a shot fired.

  She’d always been secretly in awe of them, as many cops secretly were.

  But this guy, this Rob Moore – if that was even his real name anyway – was in a different league altogether. He scared her and made her feel safe at the same time.

  As he turned to her the ambient light caught the silver at his temples. His face was shadowed as he smiled at her. He had a nice smile, she thought. Genuine.

  Katie realised he was speaking and she snapped back into the now. ‘Sorry?’

  ‘I said we should get something to eat. You must be hungry.’

  She wondered if he had heard her throwing up in the bathroom. She felt embarrassed.

  ‘I know I’m starving,’ he continued. ‘Room service okay?’

  Katie shrugged. ‘Yep. I’m not that hungry, but that’ll be fine.’

  She took the menu he passed her and quickly scanned it. ‘Lamb mussaka,’ she said.

  Moore rang down, adding a chicken pilich kebab for himself plus a feta and olive salad to share. He poured her a glass of water and they sat on the couch. A news reel was showing details of the bombing. Katie took control of the remote and flicked through until she found a movie. They watched in silence and it took her a minute to recognise the movie.

  ‘Is this Austin Powers?’ she asked.

  ‘Uh-huh.’

  She glanced sideways at Moore. He was fully engaged with the movie, a constant half smile on his face. He chuckled as the bad-toothed swinging lead character danced to an old Divinyls song, the chuckle graduating to a full laugh by the time the fembots began to explode.

  Katie grinned to herself. ‘Based on reality then?’ she said.