‘But … Beech? I was put here as a mole…’
‘Andrew Beech had nothing to do with your recruitment here. Our finding you was purely through trusted intelligence. It just happened to be lucky for the Network. Mike, we’ve spent the last few months trying to bring these bastards down and we are close, but not close enough. Your assassin, Neva, she’s nowhere to be found and neither is the former headteacher of the Network’s kill house, Olive Redding. Both of whom could tell us a great deal.’
‘However, you managed to expose another link. Janice Brayford’s Preparatory School is now closed down, though where that headmistress, Denton, scarpered off to is also anyone’s guess. She was clearly involved in the disappearance of Amelie Arquette. Probably working with Simone Arquette at the time. Of course, we don’t know this, it’s just some of the pieces we’ve managed to put together,’ explains Leon.
Simone Arquette was a willing recruit of the Network and many years ago she’d done a deal with Beech, gaining wealth and success for her unwitting husband, all for the price of their only child. But when Amelie was passed onto the Network to become a future assassin, they didn’t know the child had a heart defect. Unbeknownst to Simone, and Beech, Amelie didn’t survive the early stages of conditioning. After that another child was brought into the house to replace her. This one was later called by the codename Neva. And Neva had been the catalyst that took down Beech, revealed my sleeper status and brought my whole life into question.
‘Which means,’ Ray says, bringing my mind back to the present, ‘the Network are still functioning despite our strikes on the properties we found connected to Beech Corp. And we haven’t done nearly enough damage.’
I’m surprised at this sudden sharing of information about their investigation. Ray has been very circumspect about his findings until now. I accept it as being linked to their decision to bring me back into the fold.
‘It’s called the Network for a reason,’ I say, dropping into my old habit of analysis. ‘Someone was always going to take over from Beech.’
‘True,’ says Beth. ‘But they are still in chaos. There’ve been no assassinations that we can attribute to them over the past few months. Equally we still haven’t been able to solve a few previous killings. Beech was clever about that kind of paper trail at least.’
‘Maybe that means we’ve unbalanced them enough,’ Ray continues. ‘But I don’t think so. We’ve not heard the last from them. This organisation was too slick. It will be only a matter of time before we again see evidence of their movements.’
‘But going back to your earlier point, I don’t know about Olive Redding, but Neva didn’t know much more than me. She didn’t even know where the house was. I remembered and I took her there. Neva was searching for her own answers.’
‘Olive should be our focus then,’ Beth said, ‘and you’ll help us find her, won’t you, Mike?’
‘What can I do that you haven’t already done to trace their remaining people?’ I ask.
‘You can give us insight,’ Ray said.
‘I don’t know any more than I already told you. My access was limited. It was like I was two people living in one body. All the information I gained once Neva broke the conditioning is fragmented. Beech knew what he was doing on that score, though I think he was ready to share more with me.’
‘The thing is,’ Ray says, ‘you’re the closest thing we have to catching up with Beech’s foot soldiers and possible replacement. All we ask is that you give it a try.’
‘And my security access?’
‘Limited,’ says Leon. ‘For now.’
I frown.
‘We want you to comb over the files we found in the house. A lot of the information was redacted in the files and doesn’t mean much to any of us, but we are hoping that enough is there to jog your memory,’ Leon continues.
I don’t comment that they are giving me grunt work. Boring information searches that a lesser operative – correction Security Agent (those two things are a main source of confusion for me now) – would do. I know I’ll be tied to my desk, monitored and probably be viewed with general disgust and distrust. But what else can I do? My whole life was Archive and until Neva came into it, I was happy just doing my job.
‘All right,’ I say. ‘I’ll look. Does this mean I’m back on the payroll?’
Ray laughs. ‘You’ve never been off it!’
I am back in my old office. I have a new password for the computer, and limited access to files. I’m not surprised by this; I had been, after all, obtaining information that I’d then been passing onto the Network, even though I wasn’t aware of doing so. I’m certain that the computer now has spyware that will monitor my every keystroke.
On my desk is a pile of folders, all of which contain information found at the Network’s house in Alderley Edge. For a moment I remember the place. The school-like smell and appearance didn’t detract from the fact that this building was little better than a Nazi-style camp that turned innocent children into killing machines.
I open the top folder and find it is Olive Redding’s. There is a picture of Olive as a small child. She’s holding the hand of someone who is not in the photograph. Olive’s eyes are drained of emotion, but she is not yet the woman that I saw at the house. This depicts the early stages of conditioning that all of us had been through. A shirking of common childhood needs, and the empty void that was left was then filled with the Network’s dark conditioning.
I recall the radicalisation methods. Used so often by political and religious terrorist groups. My MI5 training taught me how this was done, but I had been unaware that I had been subjected to it. We were a cult of sorts, taught … no, programmed … to obey, and fight to the death if necessary. And in my case: kill on command with no regret. But did I believe the message the Network had implanted during their subversion? No. And even during the brainwashing I never believed. That was why their work failed. They did not find ‘common ground’ with their young assassins. They did not persuade us that our enemy was bad and deserved what we dished out. What they taught us was fear. Fear of them, not the agencies they set us against, but of failure and the repercussions that would bring.
In the folder, Olive’s training notes are nothing different from the countless others taken by the Network. I was a child of the house, though not full time, and trained to ‘forget’ my conditioning rather than embrace and live it. I knew them, but I didn’t. I had lived my whole life – cookie-cutter parents and all – as though I were a normal person.
My psychology degree hadn’t prepared me for the total mind-fuck that learning I wasn’t ‘normal’ became.
I make some observations on my laptop about Olive’s file. They want to find her. She knows so much that can help them bring down the network, but Olive, like Neva, was trained to hide. I’m sure this won’t be easy.
I close Olive’s file and stare into space. My head hurts from concentrating, but also because of the trauma of being back in Archive.
What would Neva think of this situation? Bringing her to mind creates even deeper pain. I haven’t seen her since that day she helped me rescue the children and bring down the house. She had slipped away amidst the chaos, never to be heard from again. I wonder now if she found Olive and received the answers she sought. Were the two of them together, enjoying their retirement? Part of me likes to imagine this. Neva: safe, happy and no longer a killer. She deserves a life of her own: we all do.
I decide I need coffee. I stand and walk around the desk and then out into the central office where Beth is working diligently at her desk. Seeing me she drops her screen saver onto the monitor, hiding whatever it is she’s working on from me. I don’t question it, but I feel a jolt of sadness at the distrust. Beth and I had always worked well together. Now she looks at me with different eyes.
‘I’m going for coffee; do you want one?’ I ask.
Beth shakes her head. ‘No thanks. I’m finishing early today. School play to go and see.’
&nb
sp; I nod, pleased at this casual sharing of personal information. Beth’s children are growing fast and like any mother, Beth must want to be part of it.
I say nothing more as I head off to the coffee machine. Passing Ray’s office on the way, I see Leon and Ray in close conference.
‘It’ll be fine,’ Ray says. ‘We’ll keep a close watch on him.’
Ray sees me then and gives me a small wave. Leon looks over his shoulder, startled by my sudden appearance. Despite their ‘welcome back’, things are not going to be the same at Archive, and it will be unrealistic of me to expect them to be.
I fetch my coffee as Leon comes out of Ray’s office. He closes the door, and walks away, back towards the main office area. He doesn’t look at me.
I sit at my desk and sip the coffee. This is the most awkward I have ever felt in my work environment.
Chapter Two
Neva
She’s wearing a hard hat and a bright red jacket as she walks around the construction site, clipboard in hand. No one looks at her, and so Neva, with her newly acquired workwoman disguise, exits via the crew entrance area.
She walks down the hill, passing Michael’s apartment. The work taking place nearby is a convenience she couldn’t have planned but has taken advantage of. No one notices her, blatant and obvious in this gaudy coat. She’s a working person. Instantly forgettable. The jacket guarantees that no one will remember her face.
She sees Michael return and watches as the obvious tail on him parks up his motorbike. Michael sees him too, though he isn’t blatant in his observation as his eyes flick to the youth and then immediately away again. The tail is a total amateur. So conspicuous in his attempt to be invisible. Every well-trained spy knows how to hide in plain sight. Neva is a master of being so obvious that she isn’t seen.
She’s been trying to pluck up the courage to see Michael for the past few weeks. She stayed away from London for the best part of six months. But she hasn’t forgotten Michael and never will. Their origins are indelibly linked, and their past is something that neither of them can escape from.
Michael’s apartment is more than likely bugged, and she shouldn’t approach him there. They never leave him alone as they monitor his movements day and night, as though they expect him to run at any moment. She wouldn’t blame him if he did. This is no life. Neva can see that the grip MI5 has on Michael is not that different from the sway the Network had on them both. It requires conditioned loyalty and the belief that you are doing something important.
The man on the motorbike looks around; his eyes skim over her, barely registering. Yes, a total novice. A real spy would be looking for someone who wasn’t hiding. A real spy would look at her – a woman in a man’s work jacket – first. But the disguise was not for a professional, it is for the general public and the useless amateur that sits bored outside Michael’s apartment.
Michael goes into his building. It’s unlikely that he will leave again until morning.
Making her mind up to approach him, Neva crosses the road, passing the youth on the motorbike. He’s staring blatantly at the door to Michael’s apartment block. He doesn’t notice as Neva heads around the back of the building.
Down the alley she places the clipboard on top of a dumpster. Earlier in the day she’d tampered with the lock on the back door to the building to save herself time if she did make up her mind. She’d also checked if the stairwell was being monitored by a security camera and it wasn’t. This makes her approach simple. Now she pulls it open and steps inside.
She takes the back stairs two at a time. As she begins to climb the flight to Michael’s floor, she sees a figure standing by the door at the top. Michael looks down at her.
‘Good disguise,’ he says.
‘It didn’t fool you though,’ she smiles.
She reaches the landing and they look at each other.
‘I wondered when you’d show up,’ he says. ‘It’s been months…’
‘They watch you all the time.’
‘I know.’
He reaches for her and Neva lets him take her in his arms. They hold each other for a long time. It’s comforting and warm. It tells them both more about each other than words can. Neva is the first to pull away, but even then, she is hesitant.
‘I’m working back at Archive. They want me to help track Olive,’ he tells her.
‘And how is that going?’
Michael shrugs. ‘They don’t trust me.’
‘Naturally.’
‘I can’t stay here long. They monitor everything and I’m sure they know exactly how long it should take me to reach my apartment. You’ve taken a risk coming here right now. They’d love to get their hands on you.’
It is her turn to shrug. ‘I came to warn you.’
‘What about?’
‘There’s movement in the Network. They are rallying. New leadership has emerged.’
‘And where does that leave you?’ he asks. ‘Are you going to work for them again?’
‘I killed my handler to get away. Why would you even ask me that?’
The tension in the air has more to do with their sexual awareness of each other than the conflict his question raises. She knows why he has to ask. There will always be a question of trust between them, despite everything they have shared. How could it be otherwise?
‘Michael, you have to be careful,’ she warns. ‘They may come for you. Beech wanted you to take over from him – they’ll believe you know too much and have betrayed them. The Network are your enemy now more than ever.’
‘One thing I do recall is how to deal with anyone who does come after me.’ His voice is cold.
Neva doesn’t enjoy his new lack of innocence. His obliviousness to the Network was always attractive, as was his apparent naivety. All of that has gone, along with his belief in his former life and childhood. She keeps her face blank and doesn’t let her emotions show. She’s not sure why, but his words sadden her.
‘Where have you been hiding?’ he asks her.
‘It doesn’t matter.’
‘Do you know where Olive is?’
‘No. I want to get my hands on her more than you do. She knows who my real parents are,’ Neva says.
Michael digests this information before replying, his voice low and carefully moderated. ‘Why do you want to know who they are?’
‘If they sold me to the Network, I’ll kill them.’
‘I understand your need for revenge,’ Michael says. He places his hand on her forearm, stroking her through the thick work jacket. ‘But if you find Olive, let me talk to her too. I need answers just as much as you do.’
Neva goes into his arms again. She wants to be held. The smell of him is intoxicating, male, warm, a musky scent that belongs exclusively to Michael. She squeezes her eyes shut as his arms tighten again around her.
They don’t speak. There is an inexplicable bond between them that neither of them understands. Neva wants to voice it, but the intense pain chokes the words from her throat. How can she tell him seeing him brings such grief? This is why she’s stayed away. This is why she hesitates to be close. She wants him in her life and she’s sure he feels the same. They don’t need to say anything to know this. Voicing it will only confirm the total impossibility that it could ever happen. Love, romance, relationships are not for people like them.
Michael releases her this time.
‘Tell me you’re safe then, wherever it is you’re staying.’
‘As safe as I can be,’ she says. ‘Safer than you.’ Then on impulse she says, ‘Leave here. Come with me.’
‘The only thread of normality I have is my work. It’s the only thing that is real.’
Neva doesn’t tell him that she believes nothing is real – not even Archive in the end.
She turns then and begins walking back down the stairs.
‘Goodbye, Michael,’ she says, and her words sound final.
‘Wait!’ he says.
He joins her on the stairs, pullin
g her to him. They kiss for the first time in months. It’s urgent and passionate but still so new to them both.
‘Stop,’ she says pulling away. ‘We can’t be together. Not unless—’
‘What will it take?’
His question shocks her. How can he even think this is possible? Despite her own erratic emotions, feelings she is still struggling to process, Neva can’t lie to Michael: one of them has to be that oh so distant voice of reason.
‘Michael, we’ve never been further apart than now. Secrecy was what we had. Maybe the wrongness of “us” was what made it so attractive.’
‘Are you saying it wasn’t real?’ he says through clenched jaws.
‘No. I’m not saying that. It was real. Is real. But the Network haven’t gone. Archive still pull your strings and…’ She tapers off, unable to continue because the truth when spoken is harder to accept than when it is explored inside her mind.
Michael studies her face. ‘Say it. Whatever it is. You can’t hurt me more.’
‘The past will always catch us up. Unless we bring the Network down once and for all. But we could run from it. Together. If you were willing.’
‘Thank you,’ Michael says.
‘What for?’
‘The reality check.’
Neva explores the ache that’s growing inside her, as she anticipates what’s coming next. But their story must play out, no matter what the result. She doesn’t believe in destiny: she believes in her own impetus. Even so, not everything is within her control.
‘I can do so much more if I have Archive resources to fight them with,’ he says. ‘Though nothing appeals to me more than leaving with you. But it’s not possible. We’d have a lifetime of looking over our shoulders. Do either of us really want that?’
Neva sighs. She is tired. Michael has voiced their reality and now neither of them can ignore it. Her body aches and a dull sickness lurks in the pit of her stomach. She doesn’t understand this new pain. It hurts almost as much as the day she broke away from the Network and sucks the life from her in the same way.
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