Kill or Die

by Samantha Lee Howe

  Once she catches my eye, she moves away from the bar and away from me and I get up from my chair and follow.

  Neva waits for me by the back door of the bar.

  ‘I’m glad you came,’ she says.

  I try to hug her but she resists. She’s not here to see me as a lover: she has another agenda and won’t be distracted from it.

  ‘What’s happened?’

  She is direct and to the point. ‘Have your colleagues been discussing the investigation of a flight that vanished en route to Shanghai?’

  ‘Not to my knowledge. And I haven’t heard of any flight accidents on the news.’

  ‘It’s being kept out of the press.’

  She tells me the flight number and the carrier. I memorise the detail.

  ‘You know about the Malaysia Airlines flight that went off course?’ she asks.

  ‘Yes. 2014?’

  Neva nods.

  ‘There were many investigations made into that, and speculations,’ I say.

  ‘One of them was right,’ she says.

  ‘What do you know about it?’

  ‘I wasn’t involved in that job, but I had a colleague who was. She liked to talk about it. She took up a position as a crew member and then hacked into the flight computer. The plane was rerouted and eventually dropped into the Indian Ocean.’

  ‘If that’s the case, wouldn’t the assassin have died too?’

  ‘Parachute. She was on that plane for one reason only and that was to kill one of the passengers. Everyone else was just collateral damage.’

  ‘So, you think this is the same. Someone on board was a hit?’

  ‘I know that someone important to the Network was on board. Someone that they’d pay a hefty ransom for.’

  I take a breath.

  ‘But who would take the Network on? And what was this person doing flying to Shanghai?’

  ‘The Network aren’t the only game in town, Mike. During my time on the payroll, I discovered that often the Network’s assets were hired out. We didn’t just do the wet work for them, they also had us clean up the mess left by other companies.’

  There is a clattering sound as someone makes their way down towards us, heading for the toilets. Neva pushes open the fire door and we exit into the narrow alley outside the bar. She checks up and down and we stand outside. I keep my foot in the door to stop it closing.

  Neva fills me in on what she knows of the Network’s rivals.

  ‘Some years ago, I was sent to take out a general in Afghanistan. The Network believed him to be the spearhead of a rival faction. They are known as Almunazama. I did the job, killed the general, leaving his body to be found as a message to the conglomerate. His death threw them into chaos but there was talk before I defected that they were going to make another attempt to regain what they had lost. We were on high alert, ready to converge and go in strong against them. With the disorder in the Network this strike didn’t happen. I believe that Almunazama have taken back the territories Beech and his board members stole from them. They’ve grown stronger. It’s possible this man was going to be Beech’s replacement. He may have been heading to Shanghai to secure loyalty for the Network in China, an area that Almunazama were particularly interested in.’

  ‘This … Almunazama, do they have any political or religious views?’

  ‘Political maybe, but not religious. Like the Network they are about power, wealth and influence. They don’t see themselves as terrorists, just influencers in the global economy. That’s not to say they don’t fund terrorism to create unrest. Destabilising countries is something both they and the Network often deal in. It’s all about money in the end. The reason no one has released the information about this new flight going down is because the powers-that-be are running scared. They don’t want the public to make the connection with the Malaysia Airlines flight because this kind of attack can cause far more problems than a terrorist one.’

  ‘They do this to terrorise those in power,’ I say. ‘Not the general public.’

  ‘Exactly, and they’ll use a vicious black hat hacker to do their dirty work. I mean, who wants to deal with that? It’s far more insidious than a bomb planted in a mall and can do much more harm.’

  ‘One minute you imply it’s another group, then you’re saying it’s a hacker.’

  ‘The hacker is the employee of the group,’ Neva says. ‘Think of him or her as a paid mercenary. Just like I was. Only their motives may not be perfectly in line with their employer’s. And the work they were sent to do involves kidnap, not murder. But as a consequence, a whole flight of people could possibly have died so that the kidnap could occur. The word on the street is that this hacker has their own agenda and doesn’t care for the Almunazama any more than the Network.’

  ‘Have you any idea who this hacker is?’

  Neva looks me in the eye and says, ‘I need your help before I reveal more, Michael. I want to know what Archive have learned about the Network. I want to see what they have on me.’

  I shake my head. ‘I can’t do that. My access is limited and your file is not among those I have been given. If I start digging around in there, they’ll notice. I’m already being watched.’

  I’m annoyed at her for trying to create a bargaining tool out of this information. Was the last visit a prelude of this? Was she setting me up to help her again? Does she think me that stupid?

  ‘You can’t give me anything?’ she says.

  ‘No. Maybe you can tell me something?’ I say. ‘Do you remember a girl in your class group called Jewel?’

  Neva thinks for a moment and then she shakes her head. ‘No. Who is she?’

  ‘Just a name that’s come up.’

  ‘Michael. I need your help,’ she says again. ‘Please.’

  I look her in the eyes and see pleading there. But I cannot help her. I hold the door with my hand and remove my foot.

  ‘I’m sorry. I said no. I can’t and won’t do this. You’re asking too much. I’m just getting my life back.’

  I walk back into the bar and order a strong drink.

  I look back down the passage and Neva is there, holding the door, looking at me.

  Then she is gone and the door closes behind her.

  I sit on a bar stool and down several shots of whiskey. Neva doesn’t come back. She knows that when I say ‘no’ I mean it, but I can’t help feeling some regret that she hasn’t come back. It all seems to prove that she only shared what she knew so that I would give her inside information. The thought doesn’t make me happy.

  A few hours later I find my way home after stumbling into a taxi. My tail is waiting outside the apartment block. I ignore him as I stagger into the building. What will they report to Archive tomorrow? I went out drinking and came home pissed?

  Big fucking deal.

  Chapter Seven

  Neva

  As Neva walks away from the bar, she feels nauseous. Michael is angry: she shouldn’t have tried to push him into helping her so soon. But his mention of Jewel threw her a curveball. Now she’s remembering something she had long forgotten, when another child arrived at the house.

  It was after they had taken Michael away.

  * * *

  Michael had been there for a month, and then Beech, headmaster’s cane in hand, had passed Michael over to the people who were to raise him. What happened next Neva had not known until much later.

  A few days later they brought in a new girl. Though surplus to requirements, she worked alongside Neva and the others.

  She introduced herself as Lizzie, but Tracey Herod soon changed her name to Jewel.

  Jewel had surpassed them all in the beginning. She instinctively reacted as the trainers wanted, yet she was just a little girl, no different from them really, and had arrived months after the rest. It was as though she’d had a head start even so.

  ‘There will be hot chocolate for the first of you to climb to the top of this rope,’ Tracey had said. She’d been pitting them against each othe
r a lot lately with promises of treats. But the chocolate: that was special.

  Tracey took Neva to one side and spoke to her. And then the competition was on.

  In the end it was a hair’s breadth between Jewel and Neva as they both shimmied up the ropes. Jewel was pronounced the winner and had been taken to the kitchen and given that coveted hot chocolate that none of them had been permitted since their first night at the house, but which all remembered with a yearning for kindness and love still burning inside them, yet to be eradicated.

  Back in the dorm, as Neva and the three other girls waited for Jewel to be returned to them, they had talked about her. Already jealousy was building among them and Neva, with months of conditioning behind her, had felt a strong sense of ownership where Tracey was concerned.

  ‘It’s not fair,’ one of the girls said.

  And the injustice of it brought about an intense feeling of rage inside Neva.

  They were lying in the dark, the lights remotely switched off when Jewel returned. She came alone and unsupervised and walked to her bed beside Neva’s and sat down. In the dark she began to tug off her training shoes and gym clothing and then she reached for the plain white uniform nightdress. As she pulled it over her head, Neva grabbed Jewel by the hair. She pulled her from the bed and began to kick and punch the little girl.

  A fury from nowhere consumed her. She hated Jewel. Jewel was the enemy. Jewel hadn’t even been to see Doctor Mendez. It wasn’t right that Jewel was favoured.

  As the beating continued, the other girls surrounded them cheering and whooping in feral delight. All of them wanted to hit out: Jewel was just the unlucky recipient. Then the lights went on and Neva found herself pulled away from the prone girl.

  She didn’t remember much after that, except that Tracey had defended her when Beech had suggested that Neva was too volatile.

  ‘Jewel was the catalyst,’ Tracey had said even though Jewel hadn’t stood a chance against Neva.

  Neva was put in a room alone that night while the trainers discussed her fate. When morning came, she was returned to the others, and Jewel was gone. No one ever mentioned her again.

  But Tracey’s final words to Neva that day were to warn her.

  This was her one and only chance to be the best.

  And she mustn’t fail.

  Chapter Eight

  Mia

  The room is still pitch black when Mia wakes. It’s not the first time she’s woken this way, anxiety pumping her blood fast and furious until she can hear every beat thudding in her ears. She glances over at Ben’s sleeping form. His body is turned towards the door as though he’s expecting something to happen.

  Mia turns over onto her back and takes a slow breath. She’s been dreaming, that’s all. A frightening vision of a room. A feeling that she was small and insignificant. And then there had been this blond-haired man talking to her, and someone else…

  Mia closes her eyes and tries to remember the strange abstract dream. Yes. She walked down a corridor; her mother was holding her hand and then the door had opened. Mia’s anxiety levels spike again, and then the dream slips away.

  Careful not to disturb Ben, Mia slips from the bed. As she always does when she wakes like this, she makes her way down the corridor to Freya’s room.

  The door is slightly ajar, and there is a dim nightlight illuminating the room. Mia walks in and looks into the cot. Freya is sleeping. Mia bends forward over the side of the cot and listens to the baby’s soft breathing. Reassured she sits down on the rocking chair beside the cot and closes her eyes.

  Ever since Freya was born, Mia has been suffering with a claustrophobic fear. There was a deep-rooted apprehension that something would happen to her fragile child. She knows she should talk to someone about it but somehow can’t find the words to broach the subject, even with the midwife on their check-ups.

  Some nights, like tonight, it is worse, but always in the morning this feeling will dissipate and she will think her concerns were natural. Surely any new mother has these fears?

  But then there are the dreams.

  Sometimes these are more vivid than others, and on such nights, like this one, Mia experiences an intense dread that Freya is in immediate danger. The only thing she can do is come into the room and watch over her baby.

  Mia glances at her watch. It’s 1.50 a.m. Ben, as always, hasn’t heard her leave and he doesn’t come to find her. Mia wishes he would, for then she will have to reveal how scared she is and the burden won’t be hers alone to carry.

  With this thought firmly in her mind, Mia resolves to tell Ben first thing in the morning. She’s certain that saying her concerns out loud will lessen their hold on her.

  She closes her eyes, resting back into the chair and drifts into a shallow sleep where the man and the … doctor talk to her over and over again. They tell her something important. She has a role to play, a gift to give them. Something important for the future.

  Mia jerks awake. She gets up out of the chair and stares down at Freya again.

  You’re mine, she thinks. They can’t have you.

  She shudders as though there is a sudden draft in the room, but the wall thermometer says the temperature is consistent.

  But her thoughts have strengthened her, and feeling more in control, Mia takes one last look at her little girl and, reassured, she returns to her own room.

  Ben is still sleeping as she slips back under the covers. Mia envies his ability to rest; she’s never been as good at clearing her mind as he has and her awareness of this is acute.

  She turns on her side, staring at the door beyond Ben’s frame.

  She’s okay. She’s safe. I’m never going to let anyone hurt her, she thinks. Now sleep little one…

  Mia wakes to the sound of Ben showering in the ensuite. It’s a workday and he’ll head off soon to catch his train into London.

  Mia gets up. She pulls on a light robe and goes to check on Freya. The little girl is awake and playing with her hands. The baby smiles and Mia picks her up.

  ‘You’re such a good girl,’ she says.

  When she’s changed Freya’s nappy, she brings her into the kitchen and places her into the small bouncy chair near the kitchen table. She puts the kettle on and gets two mugs from the cupboard above.

  ‘Morning, darling,’ Ben says. ‘Hope I didn’t wake you.’

  He is dressed as usual in a suit and tie. Smart and professional. Just as anyone who works in an IT job should be. Mia loves to see him in a suit and she gives him a sultry glance, making sure he sees her do it.

  ‘You look so lovely. I particularly like that suit… Especially removing it…’

  Ben laughs. He pulls her into his arms and kisses her.

  ‘I love you,’ he says when they part. ‘You can help me remove it later.’

  Behind him Freya makes a cute gurgling sound.

  ‘And how’s my pretty little girl?’ he says.

  He picks her up from the chair and snuggles her to him as he sits down at the kitchen table.

  Freya gurgles again.

  ‘See. She’s smiling at me. She knows her daddy… Yes, she does.’

  Mia laughs. ‘I’m sure it’s just wind!’

  She makes the tea and then brings the mugs over to the table.

  ‘Toast?’ she asks.

  ‘That’s okay. I’ll get something later.’

  Mia sits down and takes a sip of her tea.

  ‘She slept all night again,’ she says.

  ‘Really? I thought you got up to feed her… Or was I dreaming that?’

  He doesn’t look at her: he’s smiling at Freya and the question is casual, though Mia is looking for some sign that he knows she’s anxious.

  As Mia watches them both together, she experiences a rush of warmth and happiness that clashes with her fears and phobias. She’d always loved being a couple but adores being a family more.

  ‘I’d better feed her,’ Mia says.

  She takes Freya from Ben’s arms – thoug
h he’s reluctant to let her go. Mia unstraps her top and presses the little girl to her breast. Freya begins to suckle as Ben watches. He smiles at Mia and once again she has this feeling of being safe and it reminds her that she’s not alone. But the memory of her dream, and her resolve to tell Ben about it, hangs between them as she struggles to broach the subject.

  ‘Ben… I … worry a little about her,’ Mia says. ‘I got up to check on her. So you didn’t dream it.’

  ‘Worrying is only natural,’ Ben says. He sips his tea. Then he checks his phone out of habit. He shows no real concern for Mia’s revelation.

  ‘Well, it’s a little more than that…,’ Mia says. ‘I’m scared someone will take her from us.’

  Ben looks up, frowning. ‘Sweetheart?’

  Mia meets his gaze. She’s glad he’s listening.

  ‘I know it’s irrational, but I can’t help it. I’ve even been having these … nightmares.’

  Ben puts his hand on her knee. He strokes her leg. His hand is hot and soothing.

  ‘I’d never let anyone hurt either of you,’ he says. ‘But I think this is … kind of a process all people go through. We’re new to being parents and she’s precious. So, when you feel scared, tell me. I’ll understand. And I’ll try and make you feel better. Okay?’

  Mia nods.

  ‘For what it’s worth, I worry too. We love her so much and it’s perfectly normal.’

  He stands and kisses her on the head. She turns her face upwards to receive a kiss on her lips. Ben takes the hint and kisses her lips, lingering in a way that pleases Mia.

  ‘Have a wonderful day,’ she says.

  Ben leaves for work and Mia is relieved that she’s shared her apprehension. Ben always knows how to make her feel better. He is her rock and her best friend, as well as her lover, and Mia feels blessed that they have such an honest relationship. He never judges.