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- Herausgeber: Saxon Publishing
- Kategorie: Abenteuer, Thriller, Horror
- Sprache: Englisch
What would you do if your past came back to kill you?Eva Delacourt has been in hiding for three years after her fiancé was assassinated in cold blood outside the British embassy in Prague.She thought she was safe.But someone in the mysterious Section has betrayed her, and now she’s on the run for her life, sworn to protect the six-year old boy she adores.Her enemies are closing in, and the odds are not in Eva’s favour. For Eva, the nightmare is just beginning…Assassins Hunted is a fast-paced thrilling read in the vein of TV shows 24, Alias, and Spooks, and a must-read for fans of Jason Bourne, Jack Ryan and Killing Eve.Praise for Assassins Hunted:"Gives Bond, Bourne and the others a run for their money!" Goodreads"Rachel Amphlett has created a character that is the equal of Jason Bourne, right from the very first explosive introduction." Goodreads
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Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2020
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ASSASSINS HUNTED
RACHEL AMPHLETT
Assassins Hunted © 2018 Rachel Amphlett
First published 2018
This edition © 2020 Rachel Amphlett
The moral rights of the author have been asserted.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. While the locations in this book are a mixture of real and imagined, the characters are totally fictitious. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead is entirely coincidental.
Have you missed a book? Download the FREE Official Reading Guide and Checklist to Rachel Amphlett’s books here
CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
From the Author
ONE
Cyprus, present day
‘There’s a man holding a gun to Stefano’s head.’
For a fleeting second, Eva’s first thought was that Alex was talking about a character on the show playing on the television in the front room.
Then, she wondered what the hell he was doing changing the channels and watching something wholly inappropriate.
Finally, before the digital clock had blinked to the next second on the hour, she registered the frightened tone in his voice, and her head jerked up from the magazine she’d been reading.
Above her head a ceiling fan spun, pushing a cooling breeze between the open window of the dining area through the room and out towards the hallway. Moths dive-bombed against the window’s fly-screen that separated her from the outside world. The pages of the magazine article fluttered under her fingers, then her hair lifted off her shoulders as she spun on her heel.
She dropped her coffee mug as she moved, the sound of it smashing against the tiles following in her wake as she reached out to grab the kitchen bench to turn the corner without slowing down.
Eva cursed under her breath as her bare feet crossed the minefield of plastic building bricks Alex had left strewn across the floor in his haste to answer the intercom, before she raced to where he stood staring up at the wall next to the front door, fixated at the image streaming via video link from the condo’s gatehouse.
Almost within touching distance, she realised he was still dressed in his school uniform, instead of the pyjamas she’d asked him to change into twenty minutes ago. Her throat constricted at the sight of him, his vulnerability all too evident as he shifted from one foot to the other.
His hair sticking up on one side from where he’d been lying on the sofa, his blue eyes widened at the flickering image on the screen, before he turned to her, his mouth open in a little “o” of shock.
Eva held her finger to her lips, shook her head, then beckoned to him, fighting to keep her face calm and not let him see the fear that was crawling through her veins.
He blinked, then moved away from the camera’s range, edging along the wall to where she stood, her heart pounding.
He tried to slip his hand into hers, but she gently brushed it away and ruffled his hair.
‘Stay here,’ she whispered.
She lifted her chin, not waiting for his response, and instead took a deep breath and stepped in front of the monitor.
She swallowed.
Stefano, the security guard that manned the small security office from noon through to eight o’clock in the evening five days a week, was staring at her, sheer terror in his eyes.
She’d spoken to him on a regular basis, often stopping to chat after collecting Alex from the private ex-pat school he attended. He was in his late teens, and had taken the job to pay for his evening classes. He dreamt of becoming a chef, he’d said. Finish the course, then apply to some of the best cookery schools in France.
She’d asked him, once, how he’d got the job, as she’d wondered how effective the young man would be if threatened.
He’d rattled off his martial arts qualifications, the training the security company had given him, and she’d relaxed a little.
Perhaps a little too much.
Now, the barrel of a gun pressed into his brow so hard, she could see the skin puckering under its weight.
The owner of the gun was off camera, out of sight.
Alex was still small enough that he could only reach the lower button on the console to activate the video connection, and she silently counted her blessings that he couldn’t stretch up to touch the other controls.
Keeping her eyes on the image in front of her, she clicked her fingers once to make sure she had Alex’s attention, then made a movement with her hand; a movement she’d spent three years praying she’d never need to use.
She wondered, for a moment, if he’d remember the training because it had been a few weeks since they’d practised, and then she heard his tiny feet pattering away down the hallway towards the door next to the kitchen, the one that led to the special room that she’d insisted the condominium be built around. His footsteps stopped, and the sound of four staccato beeps reached her.
She waited until she heard the door slam shut, then counted to three.
On the screen, Stefano’s shoulders moved up and down, and even before pressing the intercom to connect their voices, she knew she’d hear his breathing, hard and panicked.
She punched the button, and didn’t waste time on niceties.
‘Who are you?’
No response.
Stefano’s eyes widened as the gun was pressed harder into the side of his skull, and Eva saw a tear roll down his cheek as his hand moved forward.
No, no – don’t open the gate!
‘Who are you?’ she repeated. ‘What do you want?’
She fought the tremor in her voice, her brain already planning, evaluating, discarding the different ways the scenario could play out.
Before she could move her lips to form another question, the front of Stefano’s skull exploded, blood and gore striking the screen as his body slumped forward.
She cried out, covering her mouth with her hands.
On the screen, a hand pushed Stefano’s body out of the way, and a figure wearing a black mask bent down until his dark eyes blazed from slits in the material, straight at the camera.
‘You,’ he said. ‘We want you. And the boy.’
The screen went blank, and Eva stepped away from the wall, terrified.
How had they found her?
She’d been so careful, severing all ties to the old days. She bit her lip, cursing herself. She’d missed something, evidently. Somehow, they’d tracked her down.
How long had they been watching, waiting?
She turned and ran to the front door, bent down to the mat and tugged her old running shoes onto her feet. She straightened, and sprinted to the kitchen, where she started pulling open the cupboard doors, lifting a bottle of cleaning fluid out and placed it on the counter-top.
She glanced at the closed steel door, the red light on the entry keypad blinking a steady beat, and bit her lip.
The Caretaker had told her the room would hold, that no matter what happened to the house around it, the space would be impenetrable.
Alex had enough supplies inside to last four weeks; easy-to-open packets of snacks, and plenty of water. If she missed her daily call to the Caretaker, he’d come. Wherever he was in the world, whatever hellhole he was currently inhabiting, he’d come.
She reached out to the cooker hob and turned the four gas outlets on full, then opened the oven door.
Within seconds, the putrid stench had begun to fill the space, and she ran across the room to close the window.
Dashing back past the kitchen bench, she grabbed the bottle of bleach, and moved back along the hallway, flicking off light switches as she went.
She ran into the living room, switched off the television and the table lamps, and the house finally plunged into complete darkness. Leaving the room, she pulled the door shut, then lunged for the front door and wrenched it open. She checked the security screen was locked, then uncapped the bottle of bleach, pushed the door so it was only ajar, then reached up and balanced the bottle on top of it.
Her chin jerked down at a slight movement at the end of the short path that led to the expensively paved road that curved round the exclusive housing estate, and she stepped back into the shadows of the house.
In her mind, she ran through last-minute checks.
The back door was already locked; unless she or Alex went out into the garden, which was rare, it was never opened. The kitchen window had been the only room open in the house as she’d planned to put the air conditioning on upstairs half an hour before she went to bed. Alex felt the cold, and so it would be another month before he’d acquiesce to the unit in his bedroom being used.
That was it.
She darted back towards the kitchen, covering her nose and mouth with her sleeve, and tried not to gag at the stench.
She spun in the centre of the room, her eyes fully adjusted to the gloom as she spotted possibilities, but nothing that would be guaranteed to work, before she lunged across the tiles to the floor and grabbed the remote for the air conditioning unit that had been set into the wall above the dining table.
A moment after she’d touched it, a crashing sound reached her ears as the intruders began to tear at the security screen at the front door.
She dropped to the floor and crawled across it on her hands and knees, reached up, and pushed the kitchen door closed.
Next, she placed the remote control on the floor so that it faced the closed door, lining it up with the spring that prevented the door from hitting the plaster wall when it was opened.
She leaned down, her cheek touching the tile, gauging the position, and shifted the remote a little to the left, then straightened and dashed towards the secure door.
As she punched in the last number of the four-digit pin code, she heard a loud thump against the back door, and then the security screen door at the front of the house gave way.
She felt a momentary note of triumph as one of the intruders cried out, no doubt blinded by the bleach that had spilled out over his head, then she pushed open the door and stepped over the threshold.
Alex was standing in the middle of the room, a torch in one hand, his thumb in his mouth. He removed it as she entered, and looked up at her, his face contorted with fright.
‘Mummy?’
Eva slammed the door shut behind her, felt the structure shudder as it settled back into place, then launched herself across the floor towards him, scooped him up in her arms, and pulled him into the far corner of the room.
She sat on the floor, hugging him to her chest, and stared at the steel door.
‘Cover your ears, Alex,’ she said. ‘It’s going to get loud.’
TWO
British Embassy, Berlin
Miles Newcombe slid the manila folder under his arm, the Queen’s seal on the outer cover as faded as the stamped “Top Secret” lettering printed underneath it, and snatched two plastic coffee cups from the dispenser next to the machine.
He slipped the first cup into place, pressed a button, then wrinkled his nose as the hot liquid spat into the cup, and took a step back.
The beans were burnt, again, and the aim of the jet was temperamental at the best of times.
He peered down at his wrinkled shirt, and wondered when he’d get time for a shower and change of clothes.
The signal had been received at nine minutes past seven the previous evening, mere moments before he was due to leave the office. Twenty-one minutes later, and it would have been someone else’s problem.
Instead, he’d phoned his wife, and apologised profusely. His gaze had drifted to the photograph on his desk as he’d hung up the phone, and he’d wondered how much of his kids’ childhood he’d have missed out on due to his career, if he and his wife had been able to conceive.
The coffee machine spluttered to a standstill, and he swapped the cups over, leaving the first to stand on top of the vending machine. He peered over his shoulder at the beige-painted corridor that led towards the secure reception area. The soundproof lining of the walls lent a muffled, cocooned effect to the offices, the muted interior a poor reflection of the beautiful city outside.
The machine coughed, and checking the second cup was full, he adjusted the folder under his arm, then picked up both plastic cups at the rim, trying to ignore the burning sensation that scorched his fingertips.
He turned and hurried along the corridor towards Room D-41, questions churning his thoughts.
The contents of the folder had been disturbing.
If Philip Petersen hadn’t retired last July, it wouldn’t have come to this. Management would have phoned Petersen at home, demanding he return to the office immediately.
Instead, Miles had been handed the folder – after it had been retrieved from the secure archive three floors under where he now walked, a complex library of secrets hidden beneath the German streets.
He passed one of the rare windows in this area of the building, its bulletproof tinted glass lending a smoky aspect to the early morning city skyline, before turning right to face a closed door.
He glanced down at the full cups, contemplated the folder under his arm, then raised his chin and glared up at the security camera before jerking his head towards the door.
The camera stared back at him, its opaque lens taunting him below a single red flashing light.
Nothing happened.
‘For fuck’s sake. Pay attention,’ he murmured.
He kicked the door twice, then glared at the camera once more, and raised the coffee cups a little.
An electronic beep sounded from the other side of the door, then it swung outward.
He stepped back, sloshing hot liquid over his hands, and the folder slipped from his precarious grip, dropping to the floor.
Miles swore as two pages escaped from it, fluttering to one side and landing on the carpet tiles.
‘Whoa, sorry, Miles.’
He glared at the bespectacled man who peered around the door, thrust the coffee cups at him, then crouched to retrieve the folder and its contents.
‘You’re supposed to monitor the camera feed, Nathan,’ he grumbled.
‘Sorry, I was—’
‘Yes, I know. Watching the interview room.’ He stood, flicked the folder under his arm, then reached out for one of the cups. ‘Lead the way.’
He kicked the door shut and followed Nathan Crowe into a small darkened room; the only available light was provided by a row of six computer screens that illuminated Nathan’s face as he pulled out one of the two swivel chairs for Miles, who put his coffee cup on the desk below the screens and sank into the cracked leather upholstery.
Crowe ran a hand through dark unruly hair, his brown eyes troubled as he returned to his seat in front of the computer.
Somehow, the Section’s systems had failed Eva Delacourt, and they needed to find out how.
Miles placed the folder on the desk, a little to the left of the coffee cup but still within easy reach, and raised his gaze to the large panel of glass above the screens.
His research proved one thing – the man assigned to watching her was unaware of what the woman was truly capable of, and that troubled him.
‘How’s she doing?’
Nathan leaned forward and pointed at the screen nearest to Miles. ‘Her heart rate is up, but that’s only to be expected. Humidity in the room hasn’t changed dramatically since she arrived.’
‘So, she’s not panicking?’
‘Not yet. Should she be?’
‘We’ll see.’
‘What’s her background?’ asked Nathan, leaning across the desk and placing his hand on the folder.
Miles tugged it out of his reach and yawned. ‘Special operative. Hasn’t seen active service in three years. Until last night, that is.’
He sipped the coffee and contemplated the woman sitting at the small table in the interview room.
She looked bored, her head propped in one hand, her elbow on the table, while she traced patterns on the table surface with a finger, her eyes firmly fixed on what she was doing.
‘Has she looked in the mirror?’
‘No.’
‘Huh.’
‘She obviously knows it’s a fake.’
‘Of course,’ said Miles. ‘She’s been on this side of the room often enough in the past.’
‘Oh.’ Nathan sat back in his chair and stared through the window. ‘I didn’t know that.’ He frowned, then turned to Miles. ‘So, what has she been doing?’
‘Keeping her head down,’ said Miles. He flipped open the folder and glanced at the executive summary, a one-pager that he’d typed up at one o’clock that morning, and one that he’d already committed to memory.
‘Okay, so we know she’s been living in Cyprus for just under a year,’ he explained. ‘In plain sight, under an alias that changes every twelve months when she moves country. Before you joined the Section, she was in Prague, then moved to Bermuda, then Cyprus. She bases herself somewhere with a British ex-pat presence, usually in a gated community.’
‘Why that particular order of location?’
Miles shrugged. ‘No reason that I can see. It just is what it is. She was due to move again in two weeks’ time.’
‘Where to?’
‘Copenhagen.’
‘What about the job she had in Cyprus – at the British Embassy? Was that a ruse to keep her close?’
‘Or a ruse for her to keep an eye on us.’ Miles rubbed his chin and flipped the folder shut. ‘Where’s the boy?’
‘Next door, in D-43, watching cartoons.’ Nathan pointed to one of the other monitors.
‘Any indication from the psych report how he’s holding up?’
‘He seems fine, all things considering. Asks for his mother every now and again, but seems to be okay when they’ve told him she’s just next door and helping us with some stuff.’
Miles sighed. ‘Poor mite.’ His thoughts turned to his own nephew, only three years younger than the boy, and wondered how he would cope in the same circumstances. He shook his head to clear the thought. He didn’t want to contemplate such a scenario.
‘All right,’ he said, and stood, stretching his arms over his head. He stifled a yawn and snatched up the folder before turning to the inner door. ‘Let’s see what she’s got to say for herself.’
‘How did they find her?’ asked Nathan. ‘She must’ve made a mistake.’
Miles shook his head and thought of the documents he’d been reading all night. ‘Eva Delacourt doesn’t make mistakes,’ he said. He pointed towards the two-way mirror between the office and the interview room.
The woman sat forward and put her head in her hands, momentarily letting her true emotions show, and obviously not caring who saw the gesture.
‘Someone knew where she was. Someone sent the strike team there.’
‘Well, that was a monumental fuck-up.’
‘Indeed.’
THREE
Eva raised her head from her hands as a man entered the room, and immediately noticed how dishevelled he looked.
Maybe she wasn’t the only one having a rough time of it, then.
He looked to be in his late thirties or early forties, his light brown hair just starting to recede from his forehead. His green eyes were bloodshot, but she couldn’t tell whether that was from lack of sleep, too much coffee, or both.
‘Hello,’ he said, and held out his hand as he approached. ‘I’m Miles Newcombe.’
‘Hello, Miles,’ she said, returning the handshake. ‘What’s your role in all this?’ She cast her eyes around the room and then pointed at the mirror. ‘Are you in charge, or are there several layers above?’
His mouth twitched. ‘There are a few layers, yes.’
She leaned back in her chair and watched as he dropped a notepad and a manila folder on the desk between them and settled himself into the chair opposite. She noticed the wedding ring on his left hand, and pitied the woman who had married him. He was obviously a career-spook, no doubt of that.
She sighed, and pointed at the folder. ‘That’s what my life comes down to, is it? A flimsy file?’
Miles loosened his tie, rolled it up, and placed it on the desk. ‘I’m wondering how much of your life is in here, actually.’ He glanced at it, but didn’t open the file. ‘It does seem a bit thin, given some of the stories I’ve been hearing tonight.’
‘Where’s Alex?’
‘Next door, watching cartoons.’ He smiled. ‘He’s a nice kid.’
‘You’ve got children of your own?’
‘No.’
His demeanour changed slightly, and Eva picked up a sense of loss in his tone. She decided not to press him, however, and instead edged forward on her chair and folded her arms on the desk. ‘Have you done a psych evaluation already?’
‘He’s fine. I’m sure with your care he’ll be able to put it behind him over the coming months.’ He finally flipped the folder open, and clasped his hands together so they covered the front page.
She managed to read some of it though, then relaxed as she realised the typed words were simply a timeline of her documented past. No surprises. Good to know he’d done his homework.
She allowed herself to relax a little, and settled in to answer his questions.
‘Your flight from RAF Akrotiri was okay?’
‘Yes. Thanks.’
‘How long was it before you were able to leave the property?’
‘What’s left of it, you mean?’ Eva leaned back in her seat. ‘Two hours, by the time the fire service had put the flames out and then the local police called the embassy.’
‘Any issues?’
‘None. I showed the policeman in charge my diplomatic credentials, and he provided a car and driver to get us to the RAF base straight away.’ She broke off, a small smile crossing her lips. ‘I think he was glad to be rid of us. The neighbours were certainly giving him a hard time.’
‘That’s something, I suppose.’ Miles rubbed his chin and turned a page. ‘Were you able to salvage anything at all?’
‘No. I’m even wearing borrowed shoes.’
He glanced down and she shuffled in her seat so she could move her foot out from under the table.
‘They’re rather, er, fetching.’
She shrugged, and straightened. ‘They’ll have to do.’
‘I’ll have someone take a note of your measurements; we’ll send someone out to get a change of clothes for you and Alex.’
‘Thanks.’
‘Can you tell me exactly what happened?’
‘I’m presuming you’d like to hear it all “from the top”,’ she said, accentuating the words with her fingers.
He nodded. ‘If you wouldn’t mind. You know how it is,’ he added with an apologetic shrug. ‘Better to hear what happened with my own ears.’
Eva began to walk him through the events of the past twenty-four hours, starting with a précis of how her day had been prior to Alex calling to her, and the gatehouse guard’s murder.
As she began to talk, Miles took a pen from his shirt pocket and began to take notes. She was slightly surprised that he favoured a fountain pen, thinking it a little old-fashioned, but she kept churning out the words, watching as his large looped handwriting began to fill page after page of the large notepad he’d brought in with him.
She stopped after fifteen minutes and reached out for one of two glasses that had been left on the table, and nodded her thanks as Miles filled it and the other for himself from a plastic jug.
She took a few sips, then pointed to the notepad. ‘Isn’t this being recorded?’
A faint smile crossed his lips. ‘I prefer to take notes,’ he said. ‘It helps me absorb what I’m hearing.’ He raised his eyes to the ceiling. ‘Of course, if I miss anything, then we’ve got a back-up.’
His gaze fell to her, his eyes sparkling.
He’s loving this, she realised. Probably the most excitement he’s had here in years.
‘Right, where were we?’ He flicked over the page, checked his last note, then looked up at her. ‘The remote for the air conditioning unit. Why?’
She shrugged. ‘They were professionals. Unless they had a complete rookie with them, none of them were going to hit a light switch after smelling all that gas. I had to force their hand.’
Miles frowned. ‘The explosion that levelled the house?’
Eva nodded. ‘Whoever was leading the intruders from the front door had to open the door into the kitchen if they were going to try to breach the panic room. I popped the back off the remote to expose the batteries to be sure, then lined it up so the door would hit it when they pushed it open, causing an explosion.’
She watched, fascinated, as he wrote the word “boom” and then drew a little cloud around it. She tore her eyes away as he raised his head.
‘What about accents?’ he said. ‘Recognise anyone’s voice?’
She took a moment, closed her eyes, and tried to remember. ‘There was one man. When the first intruder came through the front door and the bleach landed on him, he yelled, and I heard another man speak.’ She opened her eyes. ‘Eastern European, I think.’
‘You’re sure?’
‘Yes. Definitely not Russian, but perhaps one of the old Eastern Bloc countries.’
‘Do you know how many there were?’ he asked.
‘No,’ she said, and frowned. ‘Although I’m assuming a minimum of six. Three through the front, three at the rear.’
He nodded. ‘Spot on.’
‘How many were left?’
‘None.’
‘Ah.’
‘Yes,’ said Miles. ‘Therein lies the problem. No-one to question to find out who they worked for.’
‘Damn,’ replied Eva. ‘I’ll try to remember that next time.’
He rolled his eyes. ‘It was merely an observation.’
‘So,’ she said, as she crossed her arms over her chest, and leaned back in her chair. ‘How the hell did they find me?’
‘You’ve got no ideas? Anything at all?’
She shook her head, exhaustion threatening now that the adrenalin had well and truly worn off. ‘No,’ she murmured. ‘And that’s what worries me.’ She uncrossed her arms and eased forward. ‘I haven’t seen anything these past few weeks. I would’ve told the Section otherwise.’
He sighed, and threw his pen down. ‘That’s what we thought.’
FOUR
Miles pushed the door closed, stalked over to the spare chair in front of the computer screens, and slung the folder next to his empty coffee cup.
He sank into the chair and ran a hand over his eyes.
Nathan broke the short silence that followed. ‘Do you think she’s telling the truth?’
‘Yes,’ Miles mumbled from behind his hand.
‘Shit.’
After a pause, Miles heard the other man’s chair squeak and waited for the next question.
It didn’t take long.
‘Miles – all I know is what my job description entails. Why was she in hiding?’
Miles sighed, pushed the chair away from the desk so he could stretch out his legs, and folded his arms across his chest, wondering how the hell he was going to come up with a strategy to fix the problem that would meet with the Section chief’s approval.
‘It’s because of her fiancé. His name was Douglas Bolton,’ he began, keeping his eyes on Eva through the glass. ‘Doug worked at the British Embassy in Prague as a cultural attaché.’
‘He was a spy?’ Nathan leaned forward, resting his arm on the desk as if to stop himself from falling out of his chair.
Miles glanced at him, then back to Eva. ‘Yeah. He was a spy.’ He paused. ‘More like a messenger, really, without wanting to make it sound insignificant. He passed on messages between us, the CIA, and various informers. He used the diplomatic communications channels to get information in and out of the country.’
‘What sort of information?’
Miles eyed the folder, then looked away. ‘Sensitive information.’
‘What happened?’
‘The Section received intel to suggest his life was in danger, so we had them both moved to a safe house in the city,’ said Miles. ‘The admin staff at the embassy were told Doug and Eva were going on a holiday for a few weeks. Except after two weeks, it became apparent that if they stayed there, Doug’s contacts would deteriorate – the sort of informers he had links to, they’d never talk to anyone else.’
‘So, the Section chief sent them back?’
Miles nodded. ‘Doug agreed, though. He’d just made contact with a new informant who wanted to defect when the Section pulled them out, and there was still time to make contact without it seeming suspicious. He was as keen as us to see it through.’
‘What about Eva? What was she doing all that time?’
Miles ran his hand over his jaw. ‘She was assigned as Doug’s close protection officer as a way of taking a break from her work for the Section after a particularly difficult job.’
‘Was she in danger too?’
‘No more than usual.’
‘So, how was he killed?’
‘He was walking down the front steps of their house in Malá Strana towards his car. The driver was standing with the passenger door opened.’
‘Armed?’
‘Of course.’ Miles leaned forward and balanced his elbows on his knees. ‘As Doug reached the pavement, a motorbike appeared from a side street, sped past, and the pillion passenger took out Doug and his driver. Single shots to the head.’
‘Shit.’ Nathan leaned back in his chair, and Miles caught the note of admiration in his voice despite the seriousness of the events. ‘That’s one hell of a shot to take once, let alone twice.’
‘There are only a handful of likely candidates we know of that could possibly have done it,’ said Miles.
‘So that’s why she’s been in hiding,’ said Nathan. ‘The shooter and the accomplice were never caught.’
‘Right.’ Miles jerked his thumb at the wall. ‘Plus, she had the boy to worry about. He was only three at the time.’ He pushed a newspaper clipping across the desk to Nathan, its headline screaming out the terror of the assassination of a high-profile British Embassy official in the historical enclave of Malá Strana.
He swallowed, the thought of his nephew having to be told that his father had been assassinated in cold blood sending a shiver up his spine and across his shoulders.
Nathan snatched the clipping from the desk, pushed his glasses up onto his forehead and squinted at the grainy photograph that depicted the front of a three-storey house, its front door obscured by plastic sheeting that led down to the pavement to maintain the crime scene. ‘And so she’s been hiding ever since.’
Miles nodded.
Nathan’s gaze drifted to the woman on the other side of the glass, and he flicked his glasses back onto his nose. ‘That can’t have been easy with a kid in tow.’
‘No, it can’t have been.’
‘Anything to suggest why her fiancé was shot?’ asked Nathan.
‘Only rumours,’ said Miles. ‘But we can’t prove it, because no-one got the chance to ask him before he died.’
‘What sort of rumours?’
‘We thought he might have been passed some information, something explosive,’ said Miles. ‘I was only a junior analyst at the time, but whatever it was died with him. Housekeeping got to the house at the same time as the emergency services and turned the place upside down. Eva was brought in for questioning, too – standard procedure in the circumstances, but she knew nothing of his activities. He never discussed it with her. Both of them were true professionals.’
‘Shooting from a motorbike though,’ mused Nathan. ‘That’s the Israelis’ preferred method of dispatch, isn’t it?’
‘It was also Eva’s method. She was one of our best assassins until she took a break from that and joined the contingent at the British Embassy.’ Miles scratched his earlobe as he stared through the glass at Eva. ‘It’s the reason why we think he was deliberately targeted. Retaliation for one of her hits.’
FIVE
Miles turned at the sound of the keypad on the door being activated, then stood as the Section chief entered the room.
‘Sir. I didn’t know you were in the building so early.’
‘I think it’s going to turn into a long day for all of us.’ The elder man pointed through the glass. ‘Anything of use?’
‘Honestly, no,’ said Miles. ‘We’ve been through it a few times, from different angles. I’d say her memory is perfect. No deviation from the story at all.’
He watched, warily, as the Section chief stared through the glass at Eva.
Gerald Knox had been his boss for only a year since Petersen had retired, and he’d yet to get used to the man’s grating manner.
It wasn’t Gerald’s fault, of course. Recruited into MI6 straight from university, he held an enviable track record of running successful overseas operations, and had a reputation as being an impeccable strategist. Rumour had it that the man was still gunning for the top job, despite the fact his own retirement was only two years away. However, his style of management left a lot to be desired; one moment he could be fractious, demanding to know every detail of an active operation; the next, driving his team by playing to their egos.
Knox pointed at the manila folder. ‘What do you make of it all?’
‘Either the people who arranged the attack on her got lucky, or we’ve got a serious leak.’
Knox’s eyes opened wide. ‘A leak?’
Miles shrugged. ‘I can’t think of any other explanation,’ he said. ‘She’s one of the best we have. The whole operation has been running without a hitch for three years – so well, in fact, that we’ve only had a watching brief assigned to it for the past nine months,’ he added, indicating Nathan.
‘That’s worrying,’ said Knox, his gaze returning to the woman sitting in the interview room.
‘Sir? I wonder if it’d be possible to have Eva relocated to a hotel for the next few days?’ said Miles. ‘Under guard, of course,’ he added as Knox’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Maybe if we get her and Alex into some nicer surroundings than this, she’ll be able to relax a bit. Perhaps that will trigger a memory from one of them; something we can use.’
‘I don’t know, Newcombe. Seems awfully risky.’
‘I understand, but at least that way, Nathan here will have time to finish going through the camera feed from the complex. If he finds anything, we can run it by her – see if she recognises anyone.’ He glanced over his shoulder through the mirror. ‘Let’s face it. She’s got nowhere else to go.’
Knox rubbed at his chin. ‘I suppose that would work. It’s not ideal, of course.’
Miles held his breath. He desperately wanted a chance to continue working on the case, now that he knew the woman’s background. And then there was Alex, an innocent caught up in a horrendous attack. His fingernails dug into the palms of his hands. He’d vowed to himself that he’d find those responsible, and he didn’t want to let the boy down.
‘All right,’ said Knox. ‘Let me talk to her. Set some ground rules. We’ll go from there. Come on – both of you.’
Miles caught the surprised expression on Nathan’s face, then hurried after Knox, who had already opened the door to the interview room.
‘Eva,’ said the Section chief, offering her his hand. ‘I’m Gerald Knox. I believe you knew my predecessor, Philip Petersen.’
Eva stood, and Knox seemed surprised at her height. She shook his hand, then raised an eyebrow as Nathan followed Miles through the door.
‘Ah, so the man behind the mirror makes an appearance?’
Miles ignored the faint blush that crossed Nathan’s face. ‘Gerald is our Section chief,’ he explained. ‘He’d like to ask you a few more questions. Nathan here is the analyst assigned to your operation. I hope you don’t mind?’
‘Not at all.’
Her mouth quirked as she gestured to the seat in front of her.
Miles leaned against the wall behind his boss, and folded his arms over his chest as Gerald eased himself into the plastic chair and crossed one socked ankle over the other.
Nathan appeared flustered, then copied Miles’s stance and tried to look relaxed.
‘It seems you’ve attracted the attention of some rather nasty people,’ Knox began. ‘I’m glad to see you and Alex are none the worse for wear.’
‘Thank you,’ said Eva. ‘What are you doing about finding out who tried to kill us?’
Knox held up his hand. ‘Bear with me,’ he said. ‘First of all, are you absolutely sure you had no idea the attack was imminent?’
From where he stood, Miles noticed the dangerous flash in Eva’s eyes, and silently willed her to keep her cool.
‘No, nothing,’ she said eventually. She checked her watch, then glared at Knox. ‘We’ve been through it at every angle for the past eight hours.’
‘Newcombe here has suggested that we move you to a hotel for a few days, under guard of course, so that you can recover,’ said Knox. ‘Given your track record, however, I’m presuming that you would rather take on a more active role in the investigation, would that be correct?’
Eva leaned forward and folded her arms on the desk. ‘Yes. Yes, I would.’
‘I thought so.’ Knox leaned back, and Miles could imagine the smug look that had crossed his face. ‘Then I suggest the following course of action. Newcombe here will be assigned as your case officer. You will report to him while the investigation is ongoing. The boy can stay with you, of course.’
Knox turned in his seat to face Miles. ‘The pair of you will work together to find out how the hell the house in Cyprus was compromised, and who attacked you. Newcombe, you’ll report direct to me. The usual lock-down protocols apply – understood?’
Miles nodded. ‘Understood.’
‘Good.’ Knox pointed at Nathan. ‘The pair of you can work through the camera feed from the hotel, correct?’
Miles heard Nathan swallow before he answered.
‘Er, yes – that’s correct. Sir.’
‘Good. Go and grab whatever you need. You’re going with her.’
Nathan’s eyes widened. ‘I am?’
‘You are,’ confirmed Knox. ‘So, if you’re ready, we’ll adjourn to my office and work out the detail, shall we?’
He rose and offered his hand to Eva. ‘No doubt we’ll talk soon. In the meantime, try to get some rest, and then work with Nathan to see what you can find out. I need to know how badly the rest of your mission has been compromised, understand?’
‘He can’t be serious,’ said Eva as Nathan followed Knox from the room. She left her seat and approached Miles. ‘I’ve got enough on my hands looking after Alex. You can’t expect me to babysit your computer guru as well.’
‘You won’t be babysitting. He’s been out in the field before.’
‘Not like this, I’ll bet.’
‘You don’t have a choice. He’s going with you.’
‘He’s an analyst, for goodness’ sake!’
Miles spun on his heel and glared at her. ‘You don’t get it, do you? When Douglas was shot, the programme got removed from the active operations system. Mothballed. No-one else knows about it.’
‘So, why does Nathan know about it?’
‘He was tasked with making sure it didn’t fail. That no-one ever found you. Call it a watching brief, if you like.’
‘Can we trust him, given what’s happened in the last twenty-four hours?’
Miles sighed, threw the manila folder onto the table, and sank into one of the chairs. ‘Eva, he’s the one that tried to tell us a week ago that someone had found you.’
‘What?’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Miles, holding up his hands. ‘We didn’t believe him.’
‘You bastards.’
SIX
Eva followed Nathan into the hotel lobby, her fingers wrapping around Alex’s small hand as her gaze roamed their surroundings.
For government-sponsored accommodation, it was opulent, and she wondered what UK taxpayers would think; then she realised that Knox had placed them here because the very nature of the establishment ensured a better degree of privacy.
The staff would be used to VIPs, and wouldn’t bat an eyelid at some of the Section’s demands that would have had to have been made to assure her and Alex’s safety.
She shifted the canvas holdall in her right hand containing the selection of clothing and toiletries one of the Section’s enterprising admin staff had put together, and checked her watch.
She needed sleep, to recharge.
She couldn’t concentrate without rest, and she desperately wanted to soak in a bath and ease the past twenty-four hours out of her pores.
Movement at the top of a marble staircase to her right caught her attention.
A black-suited man stood at the top of the stairs on the landing, trying to blend in as a member of staff. The tell-tale bulge under his jacket spoilt the effect, but a normal person wouldn’t notice.
Eva exhaled, trying to loosen the tension in her body, and realised Nathan had spoken.
‘I’m sorry, what?’
‘I said I’ll get our room keys, shall I?’
‘Okay. Thanks.’
Alex tugged at her sleeve and pointed at him as he walked away. ‘Who’s he?’
Eva turned, then sighed as Nathan jogged over the marble tiled hotel lobby towards the reception desk. ‘A computer nerd.’
Alex giggled. ‘Nerd,’ he repeated.
‘Shh,’ said Eva, fighting the urge to smile, despite her frustration. Instead, she concentrated on finding her bearings, noting the staff exit behind the reception area and the double doors leading to a bar, and counting the fire exits.
Her eyes drifted over the people that milled about the lobby, consigning each into a mental filing system; potential Section personnel, hotel staff, hotel guests, and—
She swallowed, and kept her gaze sweeping the lobby, while her mind worked overtime.
A man was sitting at the bar, his body angled so that he could lean against the ornate brass rail that surrounded the serving area, whilst watching the lobby.
She calculated the distance, and then lowered her gaze to Alex. The boy was staring open-mouthed at the large chandelier hanging above their heads, his eyes sparkling in wonder.
Out the corner of her eye, Nathan was in the final throes of obtaining their room keys, and she hurried towards him, studiously ignoring the double doors through to the bar area, keeping her body between Alex and the man that sat there.
‘Nathan, move!’ Eva ignored the startled exclamation from the reception desk, grabbed the room keys, then took Alex by the sleeve and hurried towards the elevators.
‘Wait!’
She hitched her bag up her arm. ‘Press the button, Alex. Hurry.’
Alex did as he was told, then looked over his shoulder. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Never mind. Turn around.’
The elevator emitted a low ping as Nathan hurried towards them.
‘Can you believe this place?’ exclaimed Nathan. He raised his gaze to the ornate chandelier hanging from the ceiling that had held Alex spellbound. ‘I could get used to this.’
‘Here’s a hint,’ she said. ‘Don’t.’
‘What’s the rush?’
‘I’ll tell you in a minute.’
They rode the elevator car in silence, until it stopped on the sixth floor and the doors opened.
‘Hold on,’ said Eva.
She handed her bag to Nathan, then pushed Alex towards him and eased herself from the elevator.
As she stepped into the hallway, she looked left, then right. Her breath caught in her throat as she made out two dark-clothed figures halfway along.
They faced the elevators, one with a finger to his ear, the other with his hand behind his back, as if to pull a weapon from his belt.
The first dropped his hand, and moved towards her, gesturing to the two doors to her left. ‘We managed to find adjoining rooms,’ he said. ‘There’s a kitchenette and diner, and the refrigerator has been fully stocked. You should make yourselves comfortable.’
‘Thanks,’ said Eva, then turned back to the elevator and beckoned Nathan and Alex forward. ‘Come on,’ she said, and led them along the hallway to the first door.
They waited while the second security guard opened it for them and conducted a brief search, before he stepped aside.
‘We’ll wait in here while you check the other room,’ said Eva, and brushed past, knocking his arm. ‘Sorry.’
The agent shrugged. ‘Both rooms were checked only twenty minutes ago.’
Eva peered over her shoulder and raised an eyebrow. ‘All the more reason to check it again.’
She waited until Nathan and Alex had stepped over the threshold, then slammed the door shut and locked it.
‘Right,’ she said, keeping her voice low. ‘I don’t care what those two say. Be alert, and keep your voice down. I’d imagine the Section has installed listening devices.’
