by Faye Brann
‘To be clear, it’s not an assassination—’
‘I don’t care what it is! Again, Vika, people are not telling me the truth. How long have you known about Dmitri? How many times did you think to tell me and then decide not to?’
‘I had my orders, Anatoli.’
‘Just like before.’ Anatoli’s voice went cold. He got up and headed to the door, holding it open for her. ‘I think you’d better go.’
‘No. Not like before.’ Vicky stood up, but made no move to leave. ‘This time is different. You aren’t the only one to consider in all of this. Did you stop to think about how Matisse will feel when she sees you? When she realises that you are not dead? She’s lonely, Anatoli. She hates Sacha. She’s afraid that tonight he will try to do something to her and to Dmitri.’
Anatoli looked alarmed. ‘Will he be here – Dmitri – tonight?’
‘No. The children are all safe at the hotel, mine included, with enough guards to protect a small country. But Matisse doesn’t know that. Whatever Sacha does tonight, she will need you there, Anatoli. And when all this is over, she will need you then too.’
‘She has you. It sounds like you can protect her better than I ever can.’
‘But she doesn’t love me!’ Vicky was exasperated and time was running out. She had to get back to the hotel. ‘Please. Have a shower. Put on the suit. Come to the party and be with Matisse.’ Vicky pressed her hand against his chest. ‘You will regret it if you don’t.’
She removed her hand slowly and looked at him. His eyes melted and he shook his head.
‘Okay. Okay. I will be there, Vika. For her. For my son.’
‘And I will be there for all of you.’
The taxi dropped Vicky outside the One & Only hotel and Chris met her in front of Reception with Evie and Ollie.
‘There you are. The nanny your boss sent is waiting,’ Chris said, gesturing at a woman in a golf buggy a few metres away who looked particularly buff for a nanny. ‘But I thought you’d want to say goodnight to the kids before we go.’
Vicky kissed her older children. ‘Sorry I’m late,’ she said. ‘I got caught up in something.’
‘Do Gucci have a sale on, Mum?’ Chris had told the kids she was at the mall.
‘Very funny, Ollie.’
‘I’m Liz,’ the nanny said. ‘No little one?’
‘No. He’s at the hotel with a babysitter. Well, two, actually.’ Chris had insisted that James stay at their hotel. They had an actual childminder looking after him and Merlando on guard at the door. Despite wanting them to stick together, Vicky agreed, in the end, it was the best option. The other kids would keep him up late otherwise and they would all pay for it the next day.
Liz the nanny smiled. ‘Well, you’ve got me at the villa, but there’s a couple of butlers on hand for any room service we might need. We’ll be fine.’
‘Thanks,’ Vicky said, and meant it. She knew that the kids would all be safe here. ‘I love you,’ she said to Evie and Ollie.
Evie gave her a hug. ‘You too, Mum.’
‘Behave yourselves. Stay in the room. Do as Liz says, okay?’
‘Later, Mum.’ Ollie said. They trundled off towards the Kozlovsky villa. Vicky watched them until they went around the corner, out of sight.
‘Ready?’ Chris said.
‘Let’s get this over with.’
Chapter Thirty
They made their way through the hotel grounds and down to the gangplank where the concierge had told them the boat was waiting. She groaned as she heard the familiar voice of William barking instructions to his wife.
‘Come along, Helena, don’t be such a wet blanket, it will be fun. Get in the boat.’
‘Great. William’s here too,’ Chris muttered. ‘Pompous arsehole.’
As they approached the jetty, Vicky could hear the strained tones of William’s wife trying to reason with him.
‘William, you know I’m not the biggest fan of boats … I do think it would be better for everyone concerned if you left me behind. I’ll only be a burden.’
‘Helena, please just get in the boat.’ Vicky detected a hint of desperation in William’s voice. ‘Sacha’s been good enough to invite us all and it would be incredibly rude to say no.’
‘Where is Sacha anyway?’ Vicky said, as she reached the boat and saw that William was already seated on board, while Helena stood frozen on the side. ‘Hello, William, Helena.’
William looked distinctly ruffled. ‘He’s just on his way: said he needed to sort a few things out before he left. Hello, Vicky. Long time, no see. And this must be …?’
‘Chris. We’ve met before. Several times. At the school.’
‘Ah yes, of course, sorry old chap. Terrible memory. So, how are you finding Dubai so far? Hope this wife of yours isn’t filling your days with shopping and spas like mine is.’
‘Not exactly,’ Chris said, his lip curling. ‘Anyway, I wouldn’t mind if she did. She’s earnt the break.’
‘Hmm, well yes,’ William said. ‘I suppose anything to keep them quiet, eh?’
Wondering how long it would be before Chris tried to throw William overboard, Vicky turned to Helena. ‘You don’t like boats?’
‘William informs me it might be more than a quick jaunt to the marina,’ Helena said.
‘Oh?’
‘Well I don’t know for sure, but Sacha mentioned bringing our sea legs; sounds to me like dinner might be taking a nautical turn.’
‘Maybe he just meant for the speedboat ride.’
‘Maybe. But we are going to the marina. Why pick a marina if you’re not getting on a boat?’
William looked smug and Vicky hated to admit it, but he was probably right. Vicky felt inside her handbag for her phone. Tariq was no doubt on high alert now thanks to her hidden microphone, but she just wanted to be sure; until now, their focus had been on the mainland around the marina and the area near their hotel on the Palm, but if Sacha was planning to take them further afield … it sounded a lot like he might be using them as cover for his escape.
‘Just need to send a quick message to James’s babysitter,’ she said, and tapped a text to Tariq. She put the phone back inside her bag and heard the reassuring twinkle of a return message coming in. She peeked at the text before she closed her bag and saw that Tariq was on the case. Satisfied, she turned to Helena.
‘Come on, Helena, I’m not all that great on boats either, but we’ll make the best of it, okay?’ She got onto the boat and held out her hand to the other woman. Helena took it, reluctantly, and stepped on board.
‘Now all we need are the hosts,’ William said.
‘Speak of the Devil,’ Chris said.
‘Ah, good, you are all here already.’ Sacha strode down the gangplank, Matisse bringing up the rear. Her heels click-clacked on the wooden slats as she picked her way towards them. ‘Hurry up, Matisse, or we’ll leave without you.’
Once they were loaded on board, Sacha clapped his hands on the shoulders of the driver. ‘You can take us to the marina now,’ he said.
Vicky tried to relax and enjoy the ride. James was with Merlando. The remaining kids, William and Helena’s four, Evie, Ollie and Dmitri, were all safely in the care of the second undercover officer, Liz, and surrounded by back-up if it was required. Tariq had her back, on land and sea. They were as safe as they could be given the circumstances.
But the circumstances were not good. William was a bag of nerves. Matisse barely said a word and kept checking her phone. Anatoli … well she still wasn’t sure he could hold it together when he arrived. Vicky thought back to Sacha’s conversation with Anatoli, and Sacha’s gleeful anticipation of this evening. They’d not had enough time to prepare. There was so much that could go wrong. What if she’d made a huge mistake? She clutched on to her bag and tried not to wish too hard that she was back in the hotel room eating popcorn with the kids. She needed to be on her game to make sure there weren’t any surprises tonight.
The speedboat slo
wed down, and Vicky looked around her as they pulled into the marina. It was a truly impressive sight; the backdrop of high-rise buildings reflected in the water and mega yachts moored all around. She couldn’t believe the size of the boats; they were twice as big as houses and a gleaming white that reflected the lights of the skyscrapers above.
They pulled up alongside one of them, and the driver got out and tied a rope to the jetty. William had been right.
‘We’re here!’ Sacha grinned and put his hand up to the yacht that sat next to them. Its hull rose out of the water far beyond their heads and Vicky thought she could make out at least two decks above. Bond Girl was painted in large letters down the side.
‘Welcome to dinner,’ Sacha said, and began helping everyone out of the speedboat. ‘Come on board, come on board!’
‘As suspected, then.’ Helena grimaced. ‘Honestly, William, I really don’t think that I—’
‘Shut up, Helena,’ William said.
He really was obnoxious. Vicky wondered what he would do if she took out her gun and said the same thing to him.
‘I think you’ll be all right on this one, Helena,’ she said. ‘We’re not going anywhere while we eat, are we, Sacha?’
Sacha shook his head. ‘We’ll take her for a spin after dinner though,’ he said. ‘After all, can’t have a beauty like this for the night and not take her out cruising, can we?’
Helena looked relieved. ‘I’ll stay for dinner then, and get a taxi back afterwards,’ she muttered to Vicky. ‘But for God’s sake, don’t tell William, he’ll only make a fuss.’
‘Of course not,’ Vicky said, building a timeline in her head for Tariq and wondering if she could get Chris off the boat at the same time.
‘He’ll have drunk too much wine to care by the time he realises I’ve gone,’ Helena said.
‘Not much he can do about it once we’ve set sail. I’ll just tell him you’re in the loo while we’re casting off,’ Vicky said, conspiratorially. ‘Talking of which, I must pay a visit to the ladies once we’ve had the tour.’
They climbed on board the yacht.
‘Goodness gracious,’ William said. ‘Helena, will you look at this?’
‘Oh dear God.’ Helena looked green.
‘Fuck me,’ Chris said, to no one in particular, as he stopped dead to look around at the acres of deck that stretched before him. Vicky felt much the same way. On the lower level she could see two jet skis parked, ready and waiting to be launched into the water. A possible escape route, but not really Sacha’s style. Still, better Tariq know about them … she whipped out her phone and took some photos, remembering to ‘ooo’ and ‘ahh’, just like everyone else.
As they ascended to the next floor, they were welcomed by liveried staff and told to make themselves comfortable. Vicky stopped to take in their surroundings; the polished teak of the on-deck dining table almost completely hidden by the plates and glasses laid ready for dinner, complete with white-gloved waiters standing to attention. Vicky walked past them to peek inside, and gasped. The entertaining area was enormous: a large lounge with an L-shaped American-style leather sofa and a cinema-sized screen opposite; further back there was another, more formal dining room, reminiscent of one you might find in a French stately home, a casino area complete with roulette table; and last, but not least, a fully stocked cocktail bar. Beyond this room, no doubt, lay cabins for sleeping. Vicky looked down the hallway and guessed there must be at least six or seven bedrooms in total, all with their own en suite bathrooms. She took photos of it all and went back outside to wander about the deck. Around the front of the ship, she could see the captain, his face lit up by the screens in front of him. She took a photo of him, and went to find Chris.
They were guided upstairs to the top deck where another waiter handed them a glass of champagne. Another fully stocked bar, DJ decks, and sun loungers surrounded a sizeable hot tub. The deck beyond was a sea of sofas and candles.
‘Well, what do you think, everyone?’
William looked overwhelmed. Helena looked sick. Sacha turned to face Matisse, whose usual cool demeanour had been whipped away from her by everything she saw before her.
‘Sacha … this is … unnecessary …’ she began, but Sacha waved her words away with a flap of his hand.
‘It is not about necessary, Matisse. You should know that. Come, everyone. Let us enjoy. Cheers!’
The group raised their glasses and drank. Vicky, anxious to get the photos to Tariq, asked one of the waiters to direct her to the nearest bathroom. Once down the stairs and locked safely in a ridiculously opulent toilet stall, she spoke quickly into the microphone in her brooch as she tapped in a message.
‘I’m sending you photos of the yacht plus mugshots too. There’s a crew of five, plus captain and kitchen staff, not sure how many of them.’ She hit a button on her phone and waited for the photos to show as sent, and then got an immediate reply.
Ivanov?
She spoke quickly. ‘Not yet. Had a bit of a hiccup after you left. Expected shortly. I’ll check again later, I have to go now. Over and out.’ She needed to get back. She had no idea if the crew were white-gloved waiters or paid guns for hire who were assisting Sacha’s escape, but she couldn’t afford to arouse suspicion this early in the evening. She flushed the toilet, ran the tap and then gave a decent number of seconds before leaving the bathroom and heading back upstairs.
‘Madam?’ A member of the crew who had been on the main deck before called her from outside the bathroom.
‘Yes?’ she said, her heart thumping.
‘You left your champagne, madam,’ he said, handing her glass to her.
‘Oh, thank you, silly me,’ she said, taking the glass and smiling. He nodded. As soon as she got upstairs she dumped the glass at the end of the bar and motioned to the barmen.
‘Do you have sparkling water?’ she said. ‘I’m feeling a bit too thirsty for champagne right now.’
Chapter Thirty-One
Vicky watched Sacha lean over the side of the boat. Matisse sat next to her, watching him too, her face pulled into a frown. She looked like she was about to get up and give him a big, hard push.
‘Hello, my friend. Just in time.’ Sacha was speaking to someone on the gangplank, waving his cigar around in the air. ‘Come on up and meet everyone.’ He turned to Matisse. ‘Come, darling, come and meet my special guest.’
Matisse stayed where she was. Sacha disappeared down the steps and Vicky heard him greet a man in Russian. A few moments later, Anatoli emerged onto the deck. He took the glass of champagne offered to him and sipped it slowly, his eyes scanning the boat as Sacha spoke to him, introducing William and Helen before making his way towards them. His eyes stopped on Vicky first, before locking on Matisse.
Vicky heard Matisse take a small gasp, and she watched her set her champagne glass down, hand shaking.
‘You remember Anatoli, Matisse,’ Sacha said. It wasn’t a question. ‘You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’ He laughed and slapped Anatoli on the back. ‘And you’re the ghost! How funny is that?’
Vicky swallowed hard. Sacha knew. Of course he knew. Their plan had been to throw Sacha off balance, make him emotional and irrational and therefore more vulnerable to mistakes. But if he’d come prepared, that changed everything. Sacha had outplayed them all: Matisse and Anatoli weren’t potential collateral damage anymore; they were in the direct line of fire.
Vicky’s hand moved slowly towards her bag. She didn’t think he would try anything now, while they were docked in the harbour, but there was always a chance. She hoped Tariq was picking up on all of this.
Matisse’s eyes held on to Anatoli’s. She looked like she was going to be sick. ‘It’s been a long time,’ Matisse said. Vicky saw tears in her eyes.
‘About nine years, by my count.’ Sacha continued to turn the screw, looking like he was enjoying every minute of it.
Vicky stood suddenly, diffusing the tension, and held her hand out. ‘Hi, I’m Vicky. And this
is my husband, Chris.’
‘Nice to meet you,’ Anatoli shook hands with Chris and nodded at Vicky. He looked grateful for the interruption and she gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. He looked as sick as Matisse did, and Vicky suspected he knew exactly how much trouble they were in.
Sacha, on the other hand, was enjoying himself immensely.
‘You two must have so much to catch up on,’ he said, putting his arm around Anatoli and gripping him vice-like around his neck. ‘My friend, you must think my wife terribly rude for not keeping in touch. You two being so close, before.’
‘Excuse me a moment,’ Matisse said. ‘I must visit the bathroom.’ She turned and bolted, wobbling slightly on her heels as she left.
‘Well, Anatoli, you certainly made an impact,’ Sacha said, watching her go. ‘Do you have this effect on all women? Or is it just the ones you’ve slept with,’ he hissed.
Vicky pretended not to have heard him and turned her attention to the dark waters of the marina. Somewhere out there Tariq and Special Forces were waiting. She hoped they weren’t too far away.
Sacha headed towards the stairs that led to the bridge. Vicky thought about Matisse. Her face had been etched with shock as she’d run past her to the bathroom. When exactly Sacha had put two and two together was anyone’s guess – he hadn’t said anything before now that surveillance had picked up on – but it certainly made sense of the attempt to kill Anatoli at the exchange. Could he have known all along? Vicky held on to her bag and felt the reassuring shape of her handgun.
‘Well, I think I’ll go and check on William and Helena.’ Chris gave Vicky a kiss on the cheek and headed to the back of the boat, where William and Helena were sitting near the hot tub.
Anatoli drained his glass. His hands were shaking too. ‘This was a huge mistake,’ Anatoli whispered to Vicky, looking around him. ‘He knows about me and Matisse, I don’t know how he knows, I don’t imagine Matisse said anything—’
