Kill a Spy

by Samantha Lee Howe

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Janine

  Janine watches the general order another drink, which the waitress brings to him. He gulps it down and then stands. As he exits the bar, Janine follows.

  The general heads towards the lifts and she walks after him. He pauses at the reception desk, but Janine continues to the elevator. Her heart thuds in her chest. But she takes a deep breath and reaches out to press the call button.

  The general comes to her side as the lift opens. Janine lets her clutch bag slip from her fingers. She bends to pick it up, relying on the general’s lack of chivalry. He enters the lift and Janine scoops up her bag and scurries inside. By then the general has pressed the button for his floor. Janine presses the one for the floor above.

  Then she opens her handbag and starts to rifle inside as though she’s lost something.

  ‘Mon dieu!’

  She glances at the general and looks embarrassed.

  ‘Parlez vous Francais?’

  ‘Oui,’ he says.

  ‘I’ve lost my key. I will have to go down again! It is not my day!’ she says. She smiles at him with the right amount of flirting.

  The general smiles back. ‘Why is that?’

  ‘I hate to drink alone, for a start!’ Janine says.

  ‘So do I,’ says the general.

  When the doors open at his floor, he remains in the lift. The doors close and they go up to the next floor. Then as they open again the general presses the down button.

  ‘Perhaps when you’ve sorted your room key, you’ll meet me in the cocktail lounge?’ he says.

  Janine smiles again. ‘Oh, for company on this boring trip!’

  ‘Then it’s settled?’ the general says.

  Janine nods and smiles again.

  They reach the reception and the general walks back to the bar. Janine watches him go and then she walks over to the reception desk to feign getting a replacement key. There’s a male receptionist in a smart black suit. He smiles at her.

  ‘Puis-je aider?’ asks the receptionist in French. Can I help?

  ‘Do you have a spare room for the night?’ Janine replies.

  The receptionist looks at his computer.

  ‘I’m afraid we’re fully booked,’ says the receptionist.

  ‘Thank you,’ Janine says.

  She walks back to the bar and finds the general sitting in the same booth he occupied earlier.

  Janine sits down opposite him, far enough away not to encourage his wandering hands, though she’s facing the prospect of it in the near future if she is to coax him back to his room.

  The waitress arrives with a strawberry daiquiri for her and a vodka for the general. The general looks smug as the woman places the glasses down in front of them. Janine smiles at him.

  ‘I ordered us a drink,’ he says. ‘The bartender told me what you like.’

  ‘That’s kind of you,’ she answers. She sips the drink. ‘It’s good.’

  The general lifts his vodka glass to his lips. He doesn’t knock it back as is traditional, instead he sips it.

  ‘You’re French, right?’ he asks.

  ‘Oui. I’m Parisian.’

  ‘What are you doing in Switzerland?’ he asks.

  ‘Work. Boring meetings – they were cancelled today though, so here I am, alone in a hotel instead. What about you?’

  The general looks away. ‘A leisure trip,’ he says.

  Janine doesn’t enquire more.

  After several cocktails, the general invites her back to his room. By then she’s sitting next to him and his hand is stroking up her thigh. She hides her disgust well, just as she feigns being drunker than she actually is. A lifetime of consuming neat vodka has made her as hardy as the general – who pays for all of the drinks.

  They leave the bar and go back to the lift, this time together. As the doors close, Janine thinks she sees Neva in the reception. She looks away and back at the general. He’s smiling in a very self-satisfied way.

  They reach the general’s floor and Janine giggles as he leads her to his room. She’s aware that they haven’t even exchanged names. It’s as though Yahontov does this sort of thing so often he doesn’t even care to know the woman’s name.

  He opens his door, steps back and encourages her inside.

  ‘I can only stay for one drink,’ Janine says. ‘Early morning and more meetings tomorrow.’

  ‘I understand,’ the general says.

  He closes the door behind them and Janine walks further into the room. He has a suite – equally decadent as the reception and bar of the hotel – with a lounge area including a bar and a kitchenette. The general takes a bottle of Champagne from the fridge. There’s even an ice maker in the room and he fills a wine bucket with ice. After popping the cork and pouring two glasses he stows the bottle in the ice. Then he brings the glass to Janine. She’s taken a seat on one of two sofas that are placed either side of an ornate mahogany coffee table.

  Janine feels the weight of the knife, still in the wrist holster, as the general sits down beside her. A surge of adrenaline makes her cheeks redden.

  The general doesn’t waste any time coming onto her. Janine goes along with it for a short time and then she pushes him away. She is jittery and she lets it show because it would be abnormal if she wasn’t nervous – a woman in the room of a stranger.

  ‘The bathroom?’ she asks.

  The general points to the washroom by the bedroom door. Janine goes inside. She looks at herself in the mirror. Her lipstick is smudged. She wants to wash her face and remove the makeup and wig. She wants Yahontov to recognize her.

  She doesn’t do it.

  Instead she releases the knife from the holster. She stares at it in her hand feeling the weight of it. She knows how to use this knife, Neva has worked with her on it time and again, but still she doubts herself. That old fear and intimidation comes back. It weakens her until she quells the nerves and quietens the adrenaline. Her mantra flows through her brain and her lips move as she recites it in her head.

  I am death.

  She turns the knife back in her hand, holding it securely, but hidden in her palm and then she flushes the toilet, runs the tap in the sink and opens the door of the toilet.

  The general is waiting for her outside. His eyes are clear as he looks at her.

  ‘I hope you aren’t teasing me?’ he says.

  Janine smiles and walks towards him. She lets him embrace and kiss her again. Then she steps back. There is a beat before she swings the knife, aiming for his throat.

  The general traps her arm in his two hands. He pushes her away and then backhands her. Janine tries to block him but he catches her with a glancing blow. She stumbles back against the bathroom door.

  ‘You think I didn’t realize you were a spy?’ he says with a smile.

  The general advances even as Janine holds the knife up between them. He attempts to knock it from her fingers, but sparring with Neva has prepared her for this. She jumps the knife deftly into her other hand and wards off his attack with her now free arm. She punches her fist at his face while simultaneously stabbing the knife upwards with her left hand.

  The knife slices into Yahontov’s arm. He yelps, lashing out at her again. This time the back of his hand connects with Janine’s face. Blinding pain bursts through her cheekbone and eye. The general presses his advantage and sweeps her feet from under her. Janine falls hard, rapping her head on the door frame of the bathroom.

  Stunned, Janine feels the general pull her body into the room.

  ‘Bitch!’ he says, slapping her hard again. The same cheek screams with pain. ‘Who sent you?’

  Janine forces her mouth closed, cutting off the groan that almost escapes her lips. She pulls herself round. There’s a ringing in her ears. Neva’s done worse than this during our workouts, she thinks. But something about the general incapacitates her. And she feels as helpless as she did when she worked in the Kremlin.

  His hand gropes her, reaching up he
r skirt between her legs. She heaves her body up against him, but he slams her down. Janine knows that he isn’t stronger than her, his strength can be used against him, she just has to get the right leverage.

  He stretches out over her, fingers grasping at her underwear. She struggles against him, fight back fiercer, she thinks as she smashes the hardest bone in her wrist against his face. The general grunts as the blow lands on the bridge of his nose.

  He pulls his hand back to deliver another blow and that is when Janine sees Neva.

  She emerges from the bedroom behind the general. Neva grabs his hair and yanks back his head. As her knife draws across the taut skin of his throat, blood explodes over Janine.

  She yelps. Pulling herself free of the general’s half-raised body, Janine propels herself back until her shoulder hits the sofa.

  Neva drops the general’s body. Then she goes into the bathroom and washes her knife and her hands. When Neva comes out of the bathroom, the general has bled out on the expensive carpet. Janine hasn’t moved.

  ‘Get cleaned up,’ Neva says. ‘We need to get away from here as soon as possible.’

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Ben

  Present day

  ‘Someone is watching us,’ Mia says as Ben arrives home.

  ‘What’s happened?’ Ben says.

  ‘I went to the park, and I’m sure someone followed me home.’

  Ben takes her into his arms and holds her.

  ‘You’re safe, darling. No one knows we are here,’ he says.

  Mia pushes away from him. ‘I’m telling you… I felt…’

  ‘Okay,’ says Ben. ‘Let’s start at the beginning. What happened?’

  ‘In the park. They were all looking at me. I felt uncomfortable and then I saw a glint of light in a window.’

  ‘A glint of light? Mia… I don’t want to sound patronizing but let’s just take a breath. Think about this rationally. What did you absolutely see that makes you think there’s danger?’ Ben says.

  He pulls her into the living room and encourages her to sit down on the sofa by the window.

  ‘I didn’t see anything… it was a feeling. Like a prickle. In the back of my head. Like when you know someone is watching you. I’m not crazy,’ Mia says.

  Ben sighs. ‘You’re not going insane. MI6 do have someone looking out for you. So, it’s probably just them you’re sensing. You’re very astute, Mia.’

  ‘There is someone watching?’ she says.

  ‘It’s for your own protection. Just try to ignore it,’ Ben says.

  ‘Oh thank god! I really thought I was losing it!’ Mia says.

  ‘No one is going to get near you while they are there. Okay?’

  Mia trembles and the tears she’s been holding back all day pour down her cheeks. Ben sits down beside her and wraps his arms around her.

  ‘I’m… s… sorry,’ she says. ‘I’m just so tense. I keep feeling like any moment something is going to happen.’

  ‘MI6 are keeping an eye on you, that’s all it is. You just have to find some normality in this situation.’

  ‘But the park was so weird… the women kept looking at me…’

  ‘Why shouldn’t they? You’re gorgeous. And you’re new to the area!’ Ben says. ‘Why not try saying hello next time? Make some new friends.’

  Ben laughs.

  ‘It’s not funny,’ Mia says pulling herself free.

  ‘Sorry,’ Ben says. ‘I know this is difficult. I’m just trying to lighten the mood.’

  ‘I might better understand why this has happened if you’d tell me what’s going on.’

  Ben sighs and shakes his head. ‘It’s best you don’t know everything. I don’t really think it would help you.’

  ‘Try me,’ Mia says.

  ‘Where’s Freya?’ he asks.

  ‘Kitchen,’ says Mia. ‘I just didn’t want to put her in her cot until we were upstairs as well today.’

  Ben gets up. He walks away into the kitchen where he finds Freya in her bouncy chair.

  ‘Is Freya okay?’ Mia asks.

  ‘I’ll bring her in,’ he says.

  He picks up Freya and the chair and carries her into the living room and places her down beside the sofa. Then he goes back into the kitchen.

  ‘I need a drink,’ he says.

  He goes to the fridge and removes a bottle of Chardonnay. Then he takes two wine glasses from the cupboard. He pours the wine and brings it back into the living room.

  He places one glass in Mia’s hand and the other down on the coffee table.

  Freya gurgles at him and then crams her fist into her mouth and begins to chew on it.

  ‘She’s teething, isn’t she?’ Ben says.

  Mia nods.

  ‘Drink your wine. You’re going to need it.’

  Mia takes a huge slug of the wine. ‘I’m listening.’

  ‘Do you remember the day Michael came to take you and Freya away?’

  ‘Of course, I do. That’s when I learned you worked for MI6…’ Mia says.

  ‘What else do you remember? About Michael? About you?’

  Mia frowns. She thinks back to that day, just over a month ago, but it now feels like a lifetime. It’s hazy in her memory. She recalls being scared.

  ‘Michael’s friend Neva told you some things. About a conglomerate called the Network,’ Ben prompts.

  Mia’s frown deepens. ‘Network?’

  ‘Yes, and stuff about your parents…’

  Mia shakes her head. ‘My parents have vanished. Michael was there, and you… had a gun.’

  Mia looks scared and confused. She glances at Freya.

  ‘Mia, you remembered it all for twenty-four hours after the incident and then it just… disappeared. Since then I’ve only reminded you of some of it. When I’ve had to.’

  ‘How can my memory disappear?’ she says. ‘You mean… I’m forgetting things?’

  Ben sighs again. ‘Yes. But it’s not dementia. Mia, you and Michael aren’t twins. You are brother and sister, born on the same day, but to different mothers. Your biological father was the man you thought was your uncle.’

  Mia’s expression changes as the memory of the revelations comes back. ‘Oh my god, earlier today, I remembered it all. Then I forgot again.’

  ‘Yes. The memory comes and goes. And I don’t keep reminding you because it scares you,’ Ben says. ‘It’s best you forget again and just accept my explanation that you’re safe. But when you get like this, I’m forced to… prompt you. Freya is at the heart of this.’

  Mia looks at Freya again.

  ‘They’d take Freya. They’d turn her into… an assassin?’

  Ben nods. ‘It’s why we are in hiding.’

  Mia looks scared. ‘But why do I forget? Why?’

  ‘They… brainwashed you from childhood. It’s not your fault.’

  Mia starts to cry again as the memory of what she was told pours back into her conscious mind. ‘I’m not safe! I could be turned against you… or Freya.’

  ‘One thing I know about you, you’d never let anything happen to Freya,’ he says. ‘But what you need to remember is that you are being protected. By me or when I’m not here, by a highly trained operative. You’re safe and so is our baby.’

  Mia shakes her head in denial as the enormity of their situation hits her. Ben feels helpless as he watches the comprehension sinking in again.

  ‘Drink the wine,’ he says again.

  Mia sips the wine automatically.

  ‘And again,’ Ben says. ‘Have another sip.’

  Mia does as he tells her, and then she blinks and smiles.

  ‘Ben! You’re home. And look at me… caught with a cheeky glass of wine!’

  ‘Even better you poured one for me!’ he says.

  Ben picks up the wine and sips it. He looks calm, but he is shaky inside. These moments disturb him as much as Mia. But at least she has the luxury of forgetting them soon after. Ben doesn’t know why a few sips of wine make her forget
the horrors she’s learned. He suspects it is her mind’s defence mechanism as well as the conditioning. Every time she’s faced with the truth, she has to blot it out and bury it back inside her subconscious. Now Mia will be calm and feel safe again. At least until the next little crack appears. And those cracks are becoming more frequent.

  Ben’s mind flies back to his conversation with Steward that day.

  ‘Is she breaking down?’ Steward had asked.

  Ben looks at his wife and sighs again. ‘No,’ he says out loud. ‘You’re just trying to make sense of it all. One day maybe you will come to terms with what’s happened.’

  ‘Did you say something?’ Mia says sipping the wine again. ‘Oh look! My glass is empty.’

  ‘I’ll refill it. What about take-away tonight?’ Ben says. ‘We can have it delivered and just enjoy this wine.’

  Mia smiles at him, ‘That would be a nice change!’

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Annalise

  ‘I must admit you’re tougher than I thought you’d be,’ Annalise says.

  Kritta lifts her head and meets Annalise’s gaze. She tries to spit blood from her cracked lips but she barely has the energy, and the spittle and blood runs down her chin. Even so, Kritta grins and her mouth opens to reveal broken and missing teeth.

  Annalise studies her. As a committee member, Kritta was afforded her own security detail. A team that Annalise had paid to capture her after she attempted to take Michael from his London home. Since then she had brought Kritta to the château, and stored her for a week or two, allowing her to sweat before she began work on her.

  ‘You must understand that I don’t enjoy hurting you,’ Annalise says.

  Kritta has borne all the torture that she has thrown at her. Waterboarding, beatings, teeth pulling, broken fingers, electrocution and even hallucinogenic drugs. Now Annalise is losing her patience and she’s decided to resort to different tactics. She will see if Kritta is as tough as she appears or if there is something she can use as leverage to make her talk.