by Rob Sinclair
‘No.’
‘Okay. Butcher will pat you down.’
‘I feel like I’m about to meet the president or something.’
‘I guess you never know.’
The suited man, who Logan had called Butcher, searched across the Red Cobra’s body. He took a little too long feeling around her groin and chest, his disgusting sausage-like fingers squeezing her flesh. She didn’t react. Just made a mental note.
Butcher found nothing and the search was soon over.
‘So is it Gazinsky that you’ve got holed up here?’ the Red Cobra asked Logan again.
‘No. Follow me.’
The Red Cobra glared at Butcher before following Logan down the wood-panelled corridor. It led into a sitting room, with walls of bare stone and an obscenely large fireplace but otherwise bereft of fittings. This place certainly wasn’t a home, not anymore. There were no ornaments, knickknacks, or personal belongings of any kind.
On a large brown leather sofa – one of two – sat a middle aged man. He had thin hair, a goatee beard, and thick-rimmed glasses, and wore a pinstripe suit. The Red Cobra recognised his face immediately, from the information she’d received from her employer.
‘This is Charles McCabe,’ Logan said.
‘Mackie,’ the man said, getting to his feet, and offering the Red Cobra his hand. ‘Please, call me Mackie. It’s good to finally meet you, Anna.’
His voice was loud but smooth, his accent what she thought was English upper class. The Red Cobra shook Mackie’s hand. Gazinsky wasn’t here, but two of her targets were. Interesting.
Mackie took his seat again. The Red Cobra sat on the sofa opposite. Logan remained standing.
‘Wow, you really are beautiful,’ Mackie said. The Red Cobra held back her grimace at the old man’s lame flattery. ‘I heard you were, but seeing you for real... even prettier than I imagined.’
‘Thanks,’ she said without any feeling.
‘I feel sorry for the poor sods you sucker in with that pout. I’m sure there’ve been many.’
The Red Cobra almost smiled. With that comment, she saw Mackie for what he actually was. Not a pervy man but a unique talent spotter.
‘You should see her without the wig,’ Logan said, smiling at her.
Mackie chuckled. ‘I’m glad you came here.’
‘Why am I here?’ the Red Cobra asked.
‘It was Logan’s idea,’ Mackie said. ‘He likes you.’
‘Yeah, he told me so.’
‘Not like that, Anna. He thinks you’ve got potential.’
‘Potential for what?’
‘To work with us.’
‘I work alone.’
‘So does Logan.’
‘Then why do you need me?’
‘Because you’re good. Very good.’
‘I’m flattered.’
‘I knew your father,’ Mackie said, and that bombshell knocked the Red Cobra off course. The pleased look on Mackie’s face showed that he knew it too.
‘My father’s dead,’ she said, trying to hide that she was rattled by Mackie’s revelation.
‘Yes. I know that. I’m looking at the woman who killed him.’
The Red Cobra said nothing.
‘I liked Vlad,’ Mackie said. ‘You could always count on him. In some ways it was a shame that... you know.’
‘How did you know him?’
‘How do you think? I hired him, more than once. He was excellent at his work. Discrete. Seamless. Not cheap, but you get what you pay for.’
‘He wasn’t good enough, though, was he?’ the Red Cobra said.
‘In the end, no, you’re right. He wasn’t. But everyone has their downfall eventually. It’ll come to all of us whether we like it or not.’
‘What do you want me to do for you exactly?’
‘Help Logan get to Potanin.’
‘Why?’
‘Because that’s what I need to happen.’
‘That doesn’t sound like a very good reason.’
‘It doesn’t? That’s the only reason you’ll ever get from me. I’m not here to debate the morality of what we do. I thought that would ring true with you.’
‘Potanin wants me to kill you,’ the Red Cobra said. ‘Kill Gazinsky too. And Logan.’
She looked over at Logan. He was staring at her but his face was passive.
‘Of course he does,’ Mackie said. ‘And did you question why he wants that?’
‘No.’
‘Good. Then you understand how this works already. So now we can stop talking about reasons and who deserves what. All we’re doing here is changing your employer.’
‘And what’s in it for me?’
‘You get to continue being alive. And you’ll be paid, of course.’
‘And if I refuse?’
‘Then it’d be a shame to see your expertise go to waste. I’ll be frank with you, Anna. It’s luck that brought you here.’
‘How so?’
Mackie shrugged. ‘This isn’t personal for you. You thought you were after Gazinsky. A battle of rivals – two corrupt billionaires. But that’s such a small glimpse into what’s happening here. Why do you think Potanin asked you to wait? Why did he have you surveilling Gazinsky? He could have sent you in there to kill Gazinsky days ago.’
‘Because he wants me to kill you too.’
‘Absolutely. Gazinsky is such a small cog here. Yes, he’s important to me. He’s prepared to turn his back on his home country and give us everything he knows. It’ll be useful to hear that. But I don’t care for him. He’s never going to be one of us. Once we’ve got what we need we’ll send him on his way again. Is that harsh? Maybe. But he’s not important enough for us to waste time, money and effort protecting. He’s expendable.’
‘And me?’
‘Everyone’s expendable,’ Mackie said. ‘When they stop being useful. You see Logan here?’
The Red Cobra looked over at him. ‘Yes.’
‘He’s not expendable. Not yet. Because he’s reliable. He gets results. To be honest, I would have expected him to kill you two days ago when he first realised there was heat on Gazinsky.’
‘He could have tried,’ the Red Cobra scoffed.
‘But he didn’t,’ Mackie said. ‘If you’d been anyone else he would have taken you out before you even knew he was onto you. That’s what he does. But this time he didn’t.’
‘Why?’
‘Because he saw who was out there. The infamous Red Cobra. You’ve been on our radar for a long time.’
The Red Cobra let Mackie’s words sink in.
A few seconds later, Butcher came into the room, a sour look on his hard face. He was carrying a radio receiver which crackled with static. He walked over to Logan and whispered into his ear. Logan took the radio then went to Mackie, bent down, and whispered to him. Mackie’s expression turned from one of cordiality to outright hostility. It was an alarming transformation.
‘Two cars approaching,’ Mackie said, his eyes fixed on the Red Cobra. ‘Eight men. You’ve got five seconds to tell me what’s happening. If you don’t, you’re dead.’
Her heart drummed. This was it. The game was up. It was time to make her move.
CHAPTER 45
Four seconds passed without the Red Cobra or anyone else saying a word. She was trying to figure out what to do next. In the end, she only saw one option.
The Red Cobra leaped up and snaked around the back of Butcher who was standing just two yards from her. In an instant, she’d grabbed him round the neck with one arm. With her free hand, she took his gun from the holster and placed the barrel against his temple. Logan and Mackie didn’t make a move. She was quick, but still, their lack of reaction confused her. Worried her a little too.
‘And now what?’ Mackie asked.
The Red Cobra said nothing.
‘When did you do it?’ Logan asked, with what seemed like genuine interest rather than surprise or anger. ‘And how?’
‘What did I say?’
Mackie said to Logan, the hostility in his voice still clear. ‘I was fifty-fifty.’
‘I was sixty-forty,’ Logan said. ‘Maybe I shouldn’t have been so confident.’
‘We all make mistakes.’
‘I let her go to the ladies. Before we went down to the car. That’s when she did it, I’m guessing.’
‘Yeah.’ Mackie nodded. ‘That’s probably when she confirmed the hit. A simple text message most likely. But how did they find us here?’
‘A tracking chip. Must be.’ Logan turned to the Red Cobra. ‘Where is it?’
Logan’s carefree tone made her uneasy. Her finger was on the trigger of the handgun. She knew if she pulled it and blew out Butcher’s brains that she’d probably have a second or two to dive for cover back into the hallway. Could she make it? Probably. But what then?
‘I didn’t set you up,’ she said.
‘Bullshit.’
‘I didn’t! If it’s me they’ve followed I don’t know how. It’s the truth. I didn’t make a call, or send a text or anything like that. I really didn’t.’
‘Then why are you holding a gun to my man’s head,’ Mackie said.
‘Security,’ she said.
‘Really?’ Mackie said. ‘What the hell do you think you’re going to do next? Potanin’s men will kill you too when they arrive. Logan explained that to you already. Potanin was never going to let you live. Do you not get that?’
‘I’ll take my chances.’
‘Then go ahead and pull the trigger. All these men are trained for this. You won’t get past us all.’
‘Maybe. Maybe not.’
‘They’re trained to give their lives for me. If I give the say-so,’ Mackie clicked his fingers, ‘Butcher will spin around and do his best to kill you.’
‘He wouldn’t stand a chance,’ she said. Butcher remained still; she couldn’t even sense or hear him breathing.
‘No, probably not,’ Mackie said. ‘Butcher knows that. But he’d be prepared to try anyway, to sacrifice himself for me, and for the others. And his fight, whatever he can give, would be enough to allow Logan to take you down. You’re a dead woman, Anna, unless you lower that gun.’
There was noise – footsteps – off to the left, down the hallway. Probably Martin, though the Red Cobra didn’t dare take her eyes off Logan and Mackie to confirm. She heard his voice a second later.
‘They’re thirty seconds out,’ Martin said, without a hint of angst.
‘And now you’ve got a gun pointed at your head, Anna, by a target you can’t even see,’ Mackie said. ‘It’s your call.’
A few more seconds passed. They felt like a lifetime.
‘Martin, Butcher, get Mackie out of here,’ Logan said. ‘You know the drill, where to go. Anna and I’ll take care of the guests.’ Nobody said a word. ‘Right?’
‘Right,’ Martin and Butcher chorused.
The Red Cobra was left with no other choice. She didn’t want to die. She dropped the gun to the ground, fully expecting Martin to either shoot her or knock her out right there.
But a second later, Martin came into view and passed by her. Then Butcher moved off too. Together with Mackie they headed out the back door of the sitting room, into the woods, without saying another word.
The Red Cobra looked over at Logan.
‘Come on then,’ he said. ‘Show me what you’ve got.’
She turned round and headed to the front door where her backpack lay on the ground. She grabbed her pocket knife and put it back in her ankle holster. The hunting blade she grasped in her hand. She slowly opened the front door. No sign of anyone yet. She rushed back into the sitting room.
‘You go out the rear,’ she said to Logan. ‘Work your way around the house to the front. I’ll lure them into here.’
They heard a gunshot outside, then several more in quick succession. They sounded distant. The men were coming at them from all angles it seemed.
‘That’s good,’ Logan said, as though noticing the unease the Red Cobra was feeling. ‘Butcher and Martin will take care of anyone coming in their direction. Less for us to worry about.’
‘Go,’ she said to him. He turned and moved over to the door, then stepped out into the woods.
‘Help!’ the Red Cobra screamed at the top of her voice. ‘Help. In here! I’m hurt.’
She had to assume Potanin’s men had been given orders to kill her. But that didn’t mean they knew that she knew. She would pretend to be with them for as long as necessary.
She moved up against the wall next to the doorway to the sitting room and listened. Nothing. She shouted again, trying to sound as desperate as she could. Still nothing.
A second later, a small object came clattering into the sitting room from the hallway. It came to a stop, by the sofa she’d been sitting on moments earlier. She knew what it was immediately – a smoke grenade. The thick white plume spread out rapidly and within seconds she couldn’t see a thing.
But she could still hear.
Soft footsteps were audible, approaching down the hallway. Just one set, she thought. She let out one last shout for help. The footsteps stopped, then a second later, started up again.
Through the fog, she spotted an inch of a rifle barrel poking through the open doorway, within touching distance. The Red Cobra sprang into action. She leaped across the doorway and slashed twice with her blade, aiming for the torso and neck of the figure she couldn’t fully see. She heard a pained gargle and there was a heavy thud when a figure, dressed from head to toe in black, fell through the smoke into a heap on the floor.
After a few seconds, the hissing of blood pulsing through the wound in the man’s neck died down and all went silent again.
The Red Cobra took a peek down the hallway. It was filled with smoke; she couldn’t see a thing. That was good. She rushed towards the front door, pulling up next to the doorframe. She heard another series of gunshots outside. Closer than before. Logan?
She shouted again, the same desperate call as before. An automatic rifle blasted a burst of gunfire into the house through the open doorway. It was almost deafening. Whoever it had come from was close, very close, firing blindly into the smoke hoping to catch her. At least she knew once and for all that these men weren’t going to be helping her.
Doing her best to ignore the ringing in her ears and the disorientation from the point-blank gunshots, she dashed out of the open front doorway. Three yards into her sprint, she saw the outline of a black-clad figure through the wispy smoke. She feinted left. He opened fire. As she swept past, she slashed at his arm with the knife. The man screamed and began to turn to follow her move. But it was already too late for him.
The Red Cobra spun in an arc and slashed the knife viciously across his torso, leaving a gaping wound over a foot long in his chest and down his belly. The man collapsed to the ground.
Panting heavy breaths, her mind now focused and alert, The Red Cobra stopped and looked around. The smoke dissipated. At the corner of the house, another man appeared. He lifted his rifle and pointed it at her. She was about to dive desperately for cover when...
A gunshot rang out.
A spray of blood, bone, and brain erupted from the side of the man’s head. His lifeless body fell down.
Logan stepped out from around the corner. He was now carrying a rifle. A handgun was sticking out from his jeans’ waistband.
‘How many?’ he asked, still a picture of calm. He walked up to her.
‘Two. You?’
‘Three. And Butcher radioed to say two more at their end.’
‘Leaves one,’ the Red Cobra said.
And as the words passed her lips, she saw him, hiding behind a tree directly behind Logan, just ten yards away. His finger was already pulling on his rifle’s trigger.
‘Down!’ she screamed as she bundled into Logan. She’d expected her momentum to send him flying but his heavy frame seemed to absorb her movement and the two of them fell to the ground clumsily in what felt like slow motion. Or mayb
e it was that the adrenaline coursing through her was giving her enhanced focus.
Either way, with bullets whizzing by them, the Red Cobra grabbed the handgun from Logan’s waist as they fell. She turned the barrel and fired two shots before she landed on top of Logan.
She heard the man cry out. She’d hit him. She didn’t know where, but she could hear him wailing. Before she had a chance to do anything, Logan brushed her off and got to his feet, then strode over to the man. Logan pulled up the rifle and put a bullet in the man’s head.
The Red Cobra was on her feet and brushing herself down as Logan marched back over.
‘Thank you,’ he said, without any feeling in his words.
‘You too,’ she said. ‘We did good.’
‘Yeah. Eventually. But we need to figure out how they tracked you.’
‘I think I know.’
‘What the hell were you thinking, pulling the gun on Butcher like that?’
‘I had to.’
‘For someone with your skills, you really are quite dumb.’
‘Fuck you, macho man.’
‘If you insist,’ Logan said with a mischievous smile.
CHAPTER 46
It was three a.m. when the Red Cobra awoke with a start. She wasn’t sure what had roused her so aggressively. She hadn’t been having a bad dream and the room was silent. Except for her own heavy breaths and the much slower breaths of the man laying next to her in the bed; Carl Logan.
She looked over at him, stared for a good while as she calmed her breathing. Then she got to her feet. She picked up the white hotel-branded robe from the floor and wrapped it around her naked body which was cold but damp with sweat. She moved over and sat in an armchair, facing the bed where Logan was still sleeping soundly.
Before leaving the house in the forests, they’d taken apart all the electronic items she had on her. They’d found bugging devices in both the camera and her phone. That worried her. Because she’d purchased both items when she was already in Berlin. Potanin had somehow managed to plant the bugs on her probably while she slept. He’d never trusted her from the start, had probably always planned to kill her, like Logan said.
After destroying all her electrical items, she and Logan had performed a thorough search of her clothing and her body for evidence of any other tracking equipment. There was none. Regardless, on leaving the house in the woods the two of them had headed straight to the nearest town where they’d purchased new clothes for her. She’d had to give up her leather jacket, but had spent a couple of hours once back in a hotel in central Berlin stitching a sheath for her hunting blade into a newly acquired one.
