by Will Jordan
‘That sounds promising,’ Anya remarked, though her tone was guarded. She sensed a ‘but’ in there somewhere.
‘It is, but that’s the easy part,’ he confirmed. ‘The hard part will be fooling the CIA’s system into thinking this is still an active identity. If we tried to log in with it right now, it would probably trigger their security protocols, and we’d have half the US military on our doorstep before I could finish my sandwich.’
Anya nodded. No doubt she was well aware of this problem. ‘So how will you get around this?’
‘No idea.’ Alex flashed a grin at her. ‘But don’t worry, I’ve never come up against a system I couldn’t break. Right now I’m picking the code apart line by line. It’s tedious but it gets results. Once I understand how the thing works, I’ll crack it.’
Anya said nothing. No doubt she harboured her own thoughts on his chances of success.
‘By the way, where’s Gregar?’ Alex felt compelled to ask. He might have been a traitor and a dickhead, but he didn’t deserve the kind of tender mercy that Anya seemed to have no qualms about dishing out.
As if guessing his thoughts, she gave him a disapproving look. ‘In the bathroom, cleaning himself up. I secured the door, so he can’t leave. Apparently his nose is bleeding again.’ He saw a trace of an amused smile. ‘He thinks he might be a haemophiliac.’
‘He’s a twat,’ Alex informed her. ‘There’s no cure for that.’
She said nothing to this, though neither did she dispute his damning assessment. Instead she nodded to his right hand. The knuckles were bruised and swollen. ‘How is your hand?’
Alex flexed and clenched the fingers. ‘Hurts like a bastard, actually,’ he admitted ruefully. ‘I don’t think I’m built for this whole fighting thing.’
‘You’re quite an actor, Alex,’ she remarked, thinking about his earlier confrontation with his former friend.
He snorted. ‘Who was acting? He deserved everything he got. The only reason I didn’t kick the shit out of him is because I might need his help with this.’
Alex hardly considered himself a violent man, but in Landvik’s case his assault had been well justified. The man’s jealousy and greed had cost him two years of his life, his freedom and his future. A bloodied nose was scant recompense for such betrayal.
‘What happened between you?’ Anya asked.
‘It’s an epic saga,’ he replied with false grandeur. ‘One day they’ll write operas about it.’
She fixed him with the look of mild disapproval she reserved for when his attempts at levity weren’t appreciated, which was often. ‘I’m serious, Alex. You wouldn’t tell me before, and I can understand if it was difficult. But I need to know now.’
Alex sighed. She was right, of course. With Landvik now under the same roof as them, it was only natural she’d want to know what kind of man he was.
‘I told you before that the three of us had different ideas about what Valhalla should be used for,’ he said finally. ‘Gregar wanted us to go underground and chase the easy money – hackers for hire, or some bollocks like that. Arran and I both argued against it, told him it wasn’t why we’d gotten involved in this. He fought back, tried to get the others in the group to side with him, and we ended up expelling him. It was harsh, but we couldn’t think of any other way to deal with him. But he wasn’t finished with us.’
Alex had paused in his work, thinking over the final bitter act of revenge that had virtually destroyed his life. ‘A month or so later, I was trying to crack the encryption on a government firewall for Arran. We were working to prove they were spying on British citizens, and my hack was a vital part of the project. Then, all of a sudden, armed police come storming into my house while I’m right in the middle of it. Someone had tipped them off about what I was doing; someone with detailed knowledge of how and when I’d break the firewall.’
He laughed then. Not an amused laugh, but the laugh of a man replaying the punchline of a cruel joke. ‘I should have known he wouldn’t just let it go. We’d hurt his pride, humiliated him. And he got back at us the only way he knew how. Well, he got his revenge all right. I did a two-year stretch inside, Valhalla was no more, and everything we’d worked for was gone.’ He glanced at Anya. ‘Probably doesn’t mean much to you, but there it is.’
‘Why did you do it?’ she asked. ‘You seem like a smart man. You must have suspected you would be caught sooner or later. Why take the risk when you could have made an honest living?’
‘What? Are you here to give me a lecture on the evils of breaking the law?’ he asked, making no effort to hide the mockery in his tone. His admission of past mistakes had stirred up pride and anger, and he was in no mood for a sermon from someone who killed people with her bare hands.
‘I only want to understand.’
‘No you don’t,’ he retorted. ‘You just want something else you can use against me in case I get out of line. That’s what you do, isn’t it? Find a weakness in people, use it against them?’
Those eyes were focussed on him again, cold and clear and dangerous. ‘Alex, I—’
‘It’s because it was the only thing I was ever good at, okay?’ he snapped, blurting it out before he could stop himself. ‘That what you want to hear?’
He paused then, taken aback by the anger and resentment that had suddenly welled up inside him. Even he hadn’t expected to say it, to finally make that admission and face up to the truth about himself. And yet, now that he’d said it, he didn’t regret it. If anything, he wanted to give her more, to finally let out everything he’d been holding inside for so long.
‘Guess what? I’m not pretty and I can’t sing. I wasn’t in the football team at school and my chat-up lines suck. In fact, generally I’m pretty shit at most things. But not this. This is something I’m good at.’ He gestured to the computer hardware all around him. ‘It’s illegal and dangerous and probably stupid, but it’s all I had. And it made me feel good to know I could do things that other people couldn’t. That’s what you want to hear, isn’t it? Well, I admit it. I did this because it made me feel better about being me. I did it because I wanted to belong to… something, I wanted to be with people who understood me and respected me for what I could do.’ He sighed and shook his head. ‘But don’t worry – I don’t expect someone like you to get it.’
He might have expected casual dismissal or even a scathing reprimand from a woman who had clearly put her life on the line more times than she could count, who had seen and done things he could scarcely imagine. Strangely, however, Anya seemed almost taken aback, as if his outburst had struck a chord with her.
‘You’re wrong about that,’ she said, her voice uncharacteristically soft and quiet. ‘I do understand. And if it means anything, I wasn’t looking for weaknesses.’
Alex let out a breath, realizing to his embarrassment that he’d gone too far. Simple curiosity didn’t warrant such an outburst, and considering her behaviour so far he was more than a little surprised she hadn’t threatened to kill him for it.
‘Take it you’ve found enough weaknesses already, eh?’ he remarked, hoping she would take it as a gesture of reconciliation. Instead however she opted to keep her thoughts to herself.
‘Anyway, now you know my dirty little secrets,’ he said, turning his eyes back to the monitor in front of him. ‘Shame I don’t know yours.’
She said nothing to this. Instead she did a slow circuit of the dimly lit room, eyeing the unmade bed, the posters of video-game characters on the walls – most of which were female and scantily dressed – and the rubbish scattered around the overflowing waste-paper bin. There were a lot of used tissues in there, and Landvik didn’t look like he had a cold.
‘Most people would take that as a hint to give something back,’ Alex prompted. ‘Maybe tell me something about yourself that I don’t know – like anything?’
‘What would you like to know?’ Anya asked without meeting his gaze.
‘We could start with how you’re involved with the CIA.
’
She sighed faintly, as if she had been asked that question many times before and was weary of giving the same answer. ‘I used to work for them.’
‘Hardly earth-shattering news, but fair enough,’ he conceded. ‘How did that come about? You sound about as American as I do.’
She gave him a look that he’d come to recognize when he said something that was plainly idiotic. ‘They employ people from many countries, Alex. Even yours.’ She let that one hang for a moment or two before going on. ‘In my case, they recruited me after I defected from the Soviet Union.’
Alex stared at her, his work temporarily forgotten. This was the first time she’d revealed anything substantial about herself, and he was intrigued by this strange, enigmatic woman who had been his sole companion for the past couple of days.
‘You’re Russian?’
She gave him what he could only describe as The Look. The kind of look his friend Danny, a Glaswegian native, had once given an Australian bartender who’d mistakenly called him English. ‘Lithuanian,’ she corrected him.
If Danny was anything to go by, it would be very unwise to question that one further. ‘So what did they want with you?’
The look in her eyes was difficult to read, but for some reason he was reminded of himself when he’d been talking about Landvik’s betrayal. ‘We each have our talents, Alex. Mine didn’t start with killing people. That only came later.’
‘So you were some kind of… super-spy?’
She shook her head. ‘A soldier. That’s what I believed, at least. A warrior, fighting for a noble cause. And I was very good at what I did.’
Alex rubbed his jaw, feeling the bristles of a couple of days’ growth. ‘So how come you’re working against them now?’
For a moment he saw the muscles in her shoulders tighten beneath the skin, saw her head lower and her hands curl into fists.
‘Because I was wrong,’ she said, her voice strained and tense. ‘I wasn’t a soldier. I wasn’t fighting for a noble cause, and I wasn’t serving worthy masters. I was exactly what they needed me to be. But by the time I realized how wrong I was, it was too late. Now I’m an outcast, a dirty secret to be covered up. They want me gone so they can pretend I never existed.’ She looked at him then, her eyes shining in the dim light. The look of grief and betrayal and barely suppressed rage in them was enough to make the breath catch in his throat. ‘Well, I won’t go quietly.’
And just like that, she blinked and the emotions vanished. She was herself again. Cold and detached and controlled.
Alex let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He had no idea what to make of what he’d just heard. She had opened up to him more than at any point since they’d met, yet he felt like he had more questions about her than ever before.
‘I’m sorry,’ he mumbled, looking away. ‘It’s none of my business.’
Anya let out a breath, the taut muscles relaxing a little as she forced calm into her body once more. ‘I’ll leave you to your work,’ she decided. ‘Call out if you need anything.’
Saying nothing further, she turned and left the room.
*
The big open-plan living room down the corridor was just as expensive and tastefully furnished as the rest of the house, with high-quality furniture and a kitchen that looked as if it had just come out of a showroom. The room’s floor-to-ceiling windows had been designed to showcase the impressive views out over the lake and rolling woodland beyond. A set of sliding doors led out onto a tiled balcony, probably for dining and socializing during the summer months.
Making her way outside, Anya gripped the steel railings that encircled the balcony, closed her eyes and bowed her head. She could hear the gentle lapping of water at the lake shore below, the chirp of birdsong and the rustle of tree branches nearby. A faint breeze sighed past, stirring a few locks of hair and raising goosebumps on her exposed skin.
She exhaled, listening to the sound of her own breathing.
Normally she would have found such an idyllic location very much to her liking, but not today. Today her thoughts were turned inward.
Her career had often required her to take emotion out of the equation, to shut it down and lock it away in some dark corner of her mind, so she could focus clearly on the tasks at hand. It was this ability to be clinical and decisive that had saved her life more times than she could count.
And yet her conversation with Alex had stirred up long-buried feelings that she was having trouble locking away again. Feelings that threatened to overwhelm the barrier of cold detachment she had erected. Even now, the depth of her betrayal staggered her, enraged her, tortured her.
It was a betrayal all the more difficult to bear because of the man at the heart of it all. A man she had put her faith in. A man she had once believed could do great things. A man she had risked and sacrificed everything for.
A man named Cain.
Anya, once the loyal soldier, so easily manipulated and deceived by men who had made careers out of lying. Just another pawn to be used and sacrificed when she’d served her purpose. Now she was a ghost, a sad relic of another age lingering on in this world. Sooner or later her time would be over, but not yet.
Not yet. She still had one more battle to fight.
This had started with Cain, and it would end with him.
She would make sure of it.
*
The bathroom down the hall from Landvik’s office was just as pristine and sterile as the rest of the house. Spotless white tiles, an ultramodern shower unit and a sink cut from a single block of marble. Even the picture hanging on the wall by the door was some piece of modern-art nonsense that his parents had bought simply because they could.
The small ventilation window above the toilet was hinged and locked so that it only opened a few inches. Even if the mechanism could be broken, the frame was scarcely big enough for a small child to clamber through, never mind a man of Landvik’s size.
Neither could he open the door, which Anya had barred from the other side when she led him in here. He was trapped here, imprisoned until she decided to let him out.
Throwing the bloodied wad of tissue in the toilet, the young man let out a sigh and looked up at his reflection in the mirror. It wasn’t a heartening sight. His nose was swollen and red, his unshaven face marked by splashes of dried blood, his eyes glassy and unfocussed.
But in truth, the superficial injury meant little to him. A bloodied nose would heal up soon enough, and it wasn’t as if he was well known for his dashing good looks anyway.
What concerned him now was Alex, and more importantly the woman he’d apparently taken to associating with. What the hell had his former friend become involved in? And who had he become involved with?
Landvik himself had crossed the line of legality plenty of times during his online forays, and had dealt with a few unsavoury characters as a result. But always from behind the safe, controlled anonymity that his digital identity afforded him. Never up-close and personal like this, and certainly not with people like Anya.
She was a killer if ever he’d seen one. Cold, clinical, unflinching. Less of a criminal and more of an assassin.
Alex had barked orders at her earlier as if she was his to command, yet even Landvik could sense from her body language that she took instructions from no one. Had it been a ruse? Was she in fact the one in control of this situation?
If so, that didn’t bode well for him. He’d seen her face and could identify her with ease if it came to it. If she was as ruthless as she appeared, she’d have no qualms about executing him once she had whatever she needed here. The thought was almost enough to make him throw up in that expensive marble sink.
‘Get a hold of yourself, shithead,’ he whispered at his reflection. ‘Think.’
Splashing water on his face with trembling hands, he took a deep breath, forcing some semblance of calm into his mind. One way or another he had to figure a way out of this situation, and fast. That meant getting the
hell out of this bathroom and finding a way to call for help without being noticed.
And since any attempt to force his way out would be suicidal, the only option was to get them to release them. That meant earning their trust. Well, perhaps not Anya’s – he doubted she trusted anyone – but at least Alex’s. Alex was his friend, or had been.
That was his way out.
Chapter 23
‘Fuck!’ Alex growled, hurling his second empty can of Red Bull into the corner of the room without even bothering to aim at the waste basket. A combination of frustration, growing impatience and high doses of caffeine was making him jittery and filled with energy he couldn’t expel.
The fact that he’d hit a brick wall hadn’t helped matters either.
His patient dissection of the encryption program had uncovered a possible loophole that he could exploit; a means of bypassing the security lockdown that had been tagged against Anya’s identity. The problem however was turning theory into practice. The encryption scheme was unlike any he’d ever seen before, and was proving stubbornly resistant to his attempts at breaking in.
Time was marching on, and he was increasingly aware that he needed to make the breakthrough now, before Landvik’s parents returned home. It was a stupid fucking problem to have when the man was pushing thirty, but it was there all the same.
‘Alex.’
‘What?’ he snapped, turning to face the doorway. Anya was standing at the threshold, and beside her, much to his dismay, was Landvik.
‘He insisted on speaking with you,’ Anya said by way of explanation.
‘What do you want, Gregar?’ Alex demanded, eyeing him in much the same way he might have regarded a dog turd stuck to his shoe.
‘To help you,’ the Norwegian replied, looking surprisingly contrite now. ‘And… to apologise.’
Alex’s eyes narrowed. ‘For what?’
‘For what happened to you. For all the shit you’ve been through.’ He swallowed, searching for the right words. ‘I didn’t do it, Alex. I know you don’t believe that, but it’s the truth. For a while, I wished I had thought of it. I was so pissed at you and Arran for shutting me out, and I wanted to get back at you. But I’d never take it that far. We’re friends, Alex. Or… we were friends once. No matter how angry I was with you, I wouldn’t turn you in to the police.’
