by Will Jordan
Finally reaching a decision, he fished a cell phone from his coat pocket and dialled. It didn’t take long for his contact to answer.
‘Hawkins.’
‘Jason, I’ve got a job for you,’ Cain began. ‘I need you to pay a visit to an old friend.’
Chapter 4
North Wales, UK
Drake had lost his father many years ago. Since then, most of his possessions had been sold off or given away. But, unknown to either of his children, their mother had retained one item belonging to him. Something she had kept and carefully maintained for years. A gift, perhaps a peace offering, for her son that she’d never been permitted to give him in life.
And here it sat, beneath a dust sheet in the house’s solid stone-built garage: a sleek, brooding shape beneath the covering. A slumbering beast waiting to awaken once more.
Grasping the cover, Drake whipped it away, revealing the graceful, elegant form of a classic 1967 Austin-Healey 3000 sports car, its dark green paintwork gleaming flawlessly in the electric lights overhead.
Jessica had never been much of a car enthusiast herself, yet even she could appreciate the machine sitting silently before them. An object so inextricably linked to their father that it seemed to be imbued with his very essence. She could still picture him seated behind the wheel, his eyes alive with boyish delight as he fired up the engine.
Beside her, she felt sure her brother was entertaining similar thoughts. Compared to their aloof and distant mother, Ryan’s relationship with his father had been fiery and tumultuous. Two very different men whose personalities never quite aligned, whose lives went in very different directions.
Stepping forward, Drake reached out and gently, almost reverently ran his hand along the bodywork, tracing the flared line of the wheel arch. His back was to Jessica. She couldn’t see his expression, but she didn’t need to.
‘It’s beautiful,’ Jessica said, genuinely meaning it.
Then, to her surprise, Drake strode over to the garage’s double doors, unbolted them and hauled them open, allowing weak afternoon sunlight to flood in.
She frowned. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Cars are meant to be driven,’ he said, grasping the windshield and leaping lightly into the driver’s seat. He looked up at her then and, just for a second, she saw a shadow of the man who’d raised him. ‘Don’t you want to try it? Just once?’
‘Ryan, I…’ she began to protest but trailed off. There were probably a hundred reasons why this was a bad idea, but right then, she couldn’t name a single one.
‘Trust me, Jess.’
She sighed, resigning herself to the inevitable. ‘I know I’m going to regret this.’
Gripping the door sill, she hoisted herself up and over, settling into the passenger seat with a little less grace than Drake had.
‘Might want to practise that one,’ he advised with a wry smile.
Jessica’s retort was a short, hard punch to the shoulder, delivered with enough force to remind him that she might be his younger sister, but she wasn’t going to be mocked. ‘Next one’s aimed at your mouth.’
Grinning, Drake turned the ignition over. The old starter motor whined and strained, the engine turning sluggishly as it tried to fire. It caught once, struggled, faltered, then gave a cough and suddenly roared into life as oil and fuel began to flow freely again and old machinery rumbled back into action. The engine sounded rough and rattling for the first few seconds, and Jessica held her breath. But, to her surprise, it quickly settled down, the venerable machinery finding its rhythm again.
‘You ready?’ he asked.
Jessica glanced at her brother. ‘I’ve—’
Before she could finish, he dropped it into first gear and stomped on the gas. The sports car rocketed forward, straight down her driveway and onto the narrow road beyond, the engine peaking and receding as Drake cycled through the gears. Chill wind whipped past her face, tugging at her hair as the speed climbed steadily.
40mph, 50mph…
The chassis strained beneath them, the engine roaring and snarling like a living thing as Drake pushed it hard.
‘Jesus!’ she cried out, gripping the door handle as Drake swung hard left, following the winding country road. The tyres skidded and screeched and bit into the tarmac, tenuously maintaining their grip. Stone walls and fences whipped by frighteningly fast on both sides.
‘You’re going to get us killed, you bloody maniac!’ Jessica said, having to shout to be heard above the roar of the engine and the wind.
‘Just getting a feel for it!’ Drake called back, grinning just like their father had done. ‘It’s been a while!’
‘Is that supposed to reassure me?’
‘Not really.’
The winding country roads that traversed this region were all but deserted at this time of year, giving Drake free rein to push the powerful old sports car as hard as he wished. And push it he did, tearing through narrow turns and opening it up on the straights, unleashing the car’s full power.
Despite her reservations, even Jessica had to admit there was something intoxicating about it. The roar of the wind, the throaty growl of the engine, the vibration of the machinery straining and labouring beneath them, the barely constrained power propelling them onward.
Drake seemed to have a sixth sense of just how hard to push it, how fast to take each corner, how close the wheels were to losing their grip. He took it right to the brink, pushing the car to the limits of its performance, and deep down she understood why.
She didn’t try to intervene: this was something he needed to do.
They drove for some time, heading west, away from the mountains and valleys of Jessica’s home, riding in virtual silence. It was too loud to converse much, and Jessica sensed this wasn’t the right time.
Drake finally pulled over at a small, deserted parking lot, situated on a headland overlooking a broad sweep of sandy beach below. Beyond it lay the grey-green waters of the Irish Sea, shimmering in the late-afternoon sun. A cold breeze carried the sharp tang of sea salt and the intermittent crash of breaking waves.
Shutting down the engine, Drake sighed and looked out across the sea.
‘You know how many times I wanted to do that?’ he asked. ‘Dad never would let me.’
‘Can you blame him?’ Jessica retorted. ‘If he’d seen the way you drive, he would have kicked your arse.’
Her brother smiled, but it was tinged with sadness.
‘I’ve made mistakes, Jess,’ he finally said. ‘A lot of them.’
‘We all have.’
He shook his head slowly. ‘Not like mine.’
Jessica listened in silence while Drake laid it all out. Everything that had happened since they last parted ways: the aborted mission to apprehend Marcus Cain in Pakistan, his team’s ambush and capture, the desperate plan by Anya and a few others to bring about their rescue. He even told her of his growing mental instability, culminating in a deadly confrontation in Afghanistan just a few weeks earlier, where he’d learned the buried truth of his own past.
By the time he’d finished his astounding and harrowing tale, the sun was settling on the horizon, its fiery glow setting the sea and clouds ablaze.
‘My God…’ Jessica finally muttered, shaking her head in shock.
Even in her wildest imaginings, she could never have foreseen such a chain of events playing out for her brother. She could only guess at how he must have been feeling now, knowing the things he had done to get here.
‘Like I said, I’ve made mistakes. The kind you don’t come back from,’ he acknowledged grimly. ‘I wouldn’t blame you if you felt differently about me now, Jess. I am different. I’m not the man you used to know.’
Jessica lowered her head, unable to look at him. ‘I’m sorry.’
Drake swallowed but nodded, accepting it as one accepts all bad news they’ve long expected. He didn’t deserve forgiveness and understanding, from her or anyone else. On balance, he imagined the scales were
now weighted pretty heavily against him.
‘You don’t have to be sorry. I understand, and… I don’t blame you,’ he promised her. ‘No one could expect you to live with something like this.’
He reached for the ignition key, deciding they ought to start back.
‘No,’ she said suddenly.
Drake stopped, his hand on the key.
Tentatively, Jessica put her hand on his arm. ‘Look at me, Ryan.’
He did, however reluctantly.
‘I’m sorry for what you’ve been through,’ she whispered. ‘I… I can’t imagine what it must have been like. To lose people, to be forced to make those choices, to not trust your own mind…’ She trailed off, her voice strained and her eyes glistening. ‘But… it doesn’t change a thing. Whatever you were forced to do, you’re still my brother. I love you, and I know you. I’ve always known you. I know you’re a good man.’
Drake didn’t say anything to that. He simply leaned over and pulled her close, hugging her tight the same way she’d held him when he’d turned up on her doorstep earlier in the day. When he let go at last, Jessica leaned back in her seat and turned her gaze out to sea.
‘As for the letter, maybe… I don’t know, maybe it’s better that it’s gone?’ she suggested tentatively. ‘Maybe it’s time to let this one go.’
She could almost feel the darkening of Drake’s expression, the tension that rose in him as he wrestled with his failure, wondering at what might have been. The mystery he would never solve, the answers he would never find.
‘You’re right,’ he said quietly, conceding to it at last. ‘This has gone on long enough. It has to end sometime.’
Jessica let out the breath she’d been holding, feeling the dark mood departing as if carried away by the cold breeze. Reluctant he might have been, but her brother had finally laid aside the burden he’d been carrying for the past two years.
‘Thank you,’ she whispered, resting her hand on his. Then, wishing to move past the difficult moment, she added in a brighter voice, ‘Now can we get the hell out of here? I’m bloody freezing!’
Drake laughed then. A genuine, heartfelt laugh as he fired the engine back into life and pulled out of the parking lot.
It was almost dark by the time they made it back, and not a moment too soon by the looks of things. The first fat, heavy flakes of snow were beginning to fall as they pulled into her driveway.
Today had been one of the most foolish, most ill-conceived trips Jessica could recall making in a very long time. But she didn’t care one bit. They’d both needed it. And even if her hands and feet were numb and her face was stinging, she’d enjoyed it.
‘It’s getting late,’ Drake said as he bolted the garage doors closed, casting a quick look at the worsening snowfall. ‘I should get going.’
‘You must be kidding,’ Jessica said, leading the way back towards the house. ‘The roads around here are a nightmare once the snow starts. Stay for the night, at least until the weather improves.’
Drake glanced outside again. Having endured SAS Selection in these very mountains and valleys, he was all too aware of how quickly the weather could deteriorate. He’d never forget one particularly grim march along an exposed mountain ridge, when a sudden powerful gust had knocked every one of them over like bowling pins, including the directing staff.
However, that didn’t mean staying here was a safe alternative. Drake was, as far as the CIA was concerned, officially dead – killed during a raid in Afghanistan several weeks ago. In theory at least, the international manhunt for him was over, and with it any lingering surveillance on his sister.
That didn’t mean it was true, though.
‘It could be dangerous,’ he warned. ‘People might be looking for me.’
‘I know.’ He saw a sly smile then, a mischievous gleam in her eye. The kind he’d given her earlier to get her in the car. ‘But you know what? Fuck them.’
Drake couldn’t help but smile. ‘Fuck them, eh?’
‘Yeah, fuck them,’ she repeated, warming to the idea. There was a defiant, recalcitrant side to Jessica’s nature that she didn’t often show, especially as she’d grown into adulthood. But it was there all the same, and today’s events had clearly awoken it. ‘I’ve spent long enough being afraid of those arseholes. I think I deserve a night off. And so do you.’
Drake rubbed his jaw, weighing up the choice. Jessica, however, seemed to have made up her mind already.
‘I don’t know about you, but I haven’t eaten a thing all day,’ she said, turning away and heading for the front door. ‘God knows, you look like you could use a decent meal.’
‘Yeah? Who’s making it?’ Drake called after her.
‘Piss off, I’m better than you,’ she retorted. ‘And I’ve got a bloody excellent bottle of merlot.’
Drake couldn’t help but grin as he followed her. ‘Now you’ve got my interest.’
The prospect of a hot meal, a good drink and the chance to reconnect with the sister he hadn’t seen in two years was enough to melt through his reluctance. And more than that, he could feel the change in the air between them. The tension and distance seemed to have dissipated now, banter and playful insults quickly taking the place of sombre reflection and painful revelation.
Tomorrow Drake would have to begin again, finding a new way forward without the answers he’d come for. But for tonight at least, they were simply brother and sister. And that was enough.
Chapter 5
Drake awoke to a different world. The snow had continued unabated throughout the night, leaving the surrounding fields enshrouded in a sparkling blanket of soft whiteness, all laid out beneath a crisp blue morning sky.
The sun was just peeking over the horizon when he emerged from the house, trudging uphill through the snow. What he was about to do, he didn’t want Jessica to overhear. In any case, the cell phone reception was notoriously patchy in the Welsh valleys, forcing him to seek higher ground.
He made it about 300 metres from the house before a couple of signal bars appeared on his phone.
It was about six a.m. here, making it late evening in his contact’s part of the world. Knowing her as he did, he guessed it would be a few hours yet before she turned in. He just hoped she wasn’t too intoxicated.
The phone rang for a good ten seconds before she finally picked up. Drake didn’t speak right away, instead waiting while the phone’s custom-built encryption software did its thing, establishing a secure connection with the other unit.
‘Ryan, how’s it going there?’ Keira Frost asked. Drake could hear music and loud conversation in the background, confirming his suspicions that Frost had been hitting the bars. ‘Did you find what you were looking for?’
‘It was a bust, Keira,’ he informed her. No sense in sugar coating it. ‘The letter’s gone. Jessica destroyed it.’
‘Fuck…’ It wasn’t exactly poetry, but it effectively summed up his opinion on the matter. ‘What will you do now?’
‘This is a dead end. Nothing more I can do here.’
‘I’m sorry, man. I know you had a lot riding on this.’
‘Don’t be. Maybe some things are better left alone,’ he acknowledged. ‘Anyway, that’s not why I’m calling. I need you to do something for me.’
‘Had a feeling you would,’ she said cynically.
‘I need you to find Anya for me,’ Drake stated. ‘Whatever it takes, whatever resources you need, make it happen.’
‘Ryan…’
‘No arguments, Keira.’
‘Listen, Anya doesn’t want to be found,’ Frost warned him. ‘You said yourself, some things are better left alone.’
‘A lot of people don’t want to be found. It’s never stopped us before.’
‘You’re not hearing me. If Anya doesn’t want to be found, she won’t be. She’ll go off the grid, disappear. Even I can’t find someone like that.’
‘It’s not just her you’re looking for,’ Drake reminded her.
Fro
st hesitated, sensing what he was getting at. Anya might have gone dark, but she’d taken a member of the team with her. A man who almost certainly wouldn’t live off the grid. If they could find him, it might lead them to Anya.
‘It might be possible,’ she conceded reluctantly. ‘But I stress the word “might”. He’s good at what he does. It won’t be easy.’
‘It never is, but you’re just as good as him. I know you can do this.’
‘Fuck off,’ she bit back. ‘I don’t need a bullshit pep talk.’
‘So you’ll do it?’ he coaxed.
‘It’ll take time.’
‘I’ve got plenty of that.’
Frost sighed, bowing to the inevitable. ‘Say, through some miracle, you find her. What good do you think it’ll do? She left for a reason, Ryan. She’s not going to help us.’
Drake thought for a moment about the woman he was searching for. Anya – angry, betrayed, vengeful, lethal. A woman with nothing left to lose.
‘It’s not us I’m worried about,’ Drake commented darkly. ‘It’s her.’
Part Two
Something to Strive For
Nothing is such a heavy burden as a secret.
French Proverb
Chapter 6
Blue Ridge Mountains – June 21st, 1989
Marcus Cain was out of breath, sporting a dozen angry red mosquito bites and perspiring in the hot afternoon sun by the time he reached his destination. He’d been obliged to abandon his car several miles back when the old logging track – optimistically called a road – finally gave out.
It had been a long hike uphill to get here, following a game trail through the heavily forested foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains as the temperature rose along with the sun.
Yet here he was, at one of the most isolated homesteads he’d ever visited. No phone line, no power or water, no road access. Nobody could enter or leave this place in a hurry, that was for sure. And that was exactly how the owner wanted it. A good defensive position that could only be approached on foot.
