by Asia Mackay
‘Make it three times and we might see a difference. Now on to the weight machine. I want a hundred reps and no excuses.’ Candy motioned me towards the machine and sat down on the floor with her iPad, no doubt to update her spreadsheet with my disappointing lap times.
Candy’s weight machine was a slightly terrifying contraption that she had personally modified to combine a workout for the legs with strengthening arm muscles. I got into position on the floormat in the middle of the machine to begin squats while pulling down the large stacked blocks of weights with each hand.
I did one pull; the resistance didn’t feel right. The pulley system felt like it was jarring. I let go and went to the back of the machine. Everything looked okay. I leaned forward and gave the handle another pull. The weights went crashing down to the floor.
If I’d been still standing in position half my arm and undoubtedly my right hand would’ve been crushed.
Candy came bounding over, brow furrowed against her pink headband. ‘For fuck’s sake, Lex, what have you done?’
‘I barely touched it.’ I went to the pile of weights on the floor. A short piece of shorn rope was lying among them, while dangling above was the longer piece it had snapped off from. I reached down and picked up the rope.
Candy peered at it. ‘So who have you pissed off? This machine has clearly been tampered with. Can’t you Rats sort out your differences in the field?’ She sighed. ‘It’s hard enough on the piddling budget I’ve been given without you idiots sabotaging expensive equipment.’ She stomped off, shaking her head.
I fingered the frayed edges of the rope.
Bennie was really starting to become a problem.
It seemed mocking his manhood in the canteen had upset him enough that he’d tried to crush my firing hand. I wasn’t surprised, considering what I had learnt about him from the Rats in his current unit.
It seemed Bennie was walking, talking proof that although you couldn’t polish a turd, you could polish a vile little psychopath into a government employee his mother could still talk proudly about at dinner parties.
Privilege had always protected Bennie from the repercussions of his actions. Growing up; a neighbour with a missing cat received a new car, the family of a girl with a burnt arm was gifted a new flat. By the time he finished his exclusive private school Bennie had been involved in enough incidents they were able to build a new library. His army career was littered with red flags and after one tour of duty in Afghanistan the duty psychiatrist recommended he never be deployed again. Everyone had breathed a sigh of relief when he left to join the Security Services. The Committee had clearly placed him here to see if he was Rat material or too unhinged to make it.
At Eight there was no understanding Human Resources department we could take grievances to. No one wanted to get stuck in the middle of an argument between a couple of killers. With everything I had going on I didn’t have the time to engage with Bennie and his one-man battle to oust me. But if I ignored him, would he go away?
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Herpes Simplex Cure
MISSION: #80436
UNIT: UNICORN
WEASEL: DIMITRI TUPOLEV
ALERT: 2 WEEKS TO POP DAY
Chapter Thirteen
I DIDN’T KNOW IF we were going to make it.
As I went through our mission protocol checklists, nearly every box was still missing the reassuring green tick.
‘We need to do better.’ I was leading our daily update briefing. All of Unicorn were settled in the meeting room, except Sandy, who was in his office with the door shut. Judging by the raised voice and the shouted threats, he was on the phone to a particularly unshakeable enemy of the state. Or his ex-wife.
I looked round at everyone. ‘We need confirmation of what Dimitri’s flight plans are, the remote detonator needs testing out in the field and so far we’re failing in our trials to disable the garage alarm system. The Drunk Driver is our best chance of success. We have to make this work.’
If we failed we would be deployed to Moscow to undertake another Pop attempt there. Foreign soil, limited intel, increased security, arranging ten days of childcare . . . There were many reasons why I didn’t want to have to action the Back-up.
‘Nicola, talk us through your trip.’ Nicola had just got back from three days in Moscow with Robin. I’d already heard Robin complain that she’d spent the whole trip with her Beats by Dre headphones on and how at least once he’d noticed they hadn’t even been connected to her iPhone. I had to confess I didn’t blame her.
‘We now have a final shortlist of who to recruit to help Sergei take over Rok-Tech. Using the Russian Embassy’s files we were able to track down all the known associates of those on Isaac’s list and rule out those with business links to The President. These are the ones we have left.’ Nicola tapped her keyboard and the photos and biographies of three Russian businessmen projected on to the whiteboard. ‘Their joint codename will be the Nyan.’
‘That’s Russian for what exactly?’ asked Jake.
‘The Nannies.’ Nicola nodded over at a grinning Robin. ‘He named them.’
‘Did you make any progress with intel for the Back-up?’ As much as I hoped it wouldn’t come to it, we needed to have a workable plan in place.
‘We were able to get the exact time, date and location of the incompetency hearing by hacking Dimitri’s lawyers’ office but we still don’t know where in Moscow he will be staying.’
‘And Rok-Tech HQ is a fortress with daily-changing security protocols,’ added Robin.
‘At this rate we’re going to spend our time waiting for him outside in the cold and taking pot shots.’ I shivered at the thought. ‘Stakeouts in minus twenty.’
‘The freezing air sharpens the mind. And the aim.’ Jake leaned towards me and said softly, ‘Remember that time in Norway? Up in the fjords? How we got trapped in that steam room? Although it wasn’t that steamy before we started . . .’ He trailed off. ‘Remember?’
‘I don’t.’
I did.
I cleared my throat. ‘The incompetency hearing is our best bet. Let’s focus on that.’
Geraint’s laptop started pinging. He frowned. ‘I have an alert set up for any online activity regarding VirtuWorld. It seems a lot of chatter has been coming in. The software has apparently just passed phase one of testing. They’re now definitely on track for being fully operational in the New Year.’
We all went quiet as we thought of how we were just months away from the VirtuWorld cars and their scanners being rolled out into the world, mapping our streets and potentially infiltrating our electronic devices. I couldn’t imagine a future whereby we had to relinquish technology just to keep our security practices safe.
It would be impossible.
Russia would rule us all.
*
We continued the rest of the meeting with a renewed vigour and I assigned roles. I’d focus on the logistics and execution of the two different Pop plans with Jake and Robin. Geraint and Nicola needed to work through the multitude of data that needed analysing and monitor online chatter for indications that Dimitri or his associates suspected what we were planning. Sandy’s job was to approach and recruit the Nyan. We were going to be stretched thin but I had full trust in our team. We were the best of the best. I had to keep reminding myself of that whenever I felt the added pressure of it being my first mission back since having Gigi.
And the fact I was going to be the one pushing the button.
At 10 p.m. we were all still in the office. I stretched and wondered if seven coffees in one day was too many. Nicola was texting on her mobile. Probably planning some big night out after leaving here. I took in her shiny hair and taut body. She was so free. No rushing to get home to see a baby, no fear of getting woken up by said baby. Just busy planning whatever it was she wanted to do without a care in the world. What did she do with all that free time
? I thought back to Will and me on lazy weekends before Gigi was born and wanted to shake us by the shoulders and shout, ‘You fucking enjoy this!’
My phone beeped and a photo of a grinning Gigi popped up. She was wearing a tweed flat cap. ‘A highlight from today’s Daddy Daycare’ was the message from Will. My heart burst a little. I looked back at Nicola, who was still texting. She might get the lie-ins, the constant meals out, the late-night drinks, the fun-filled shopping sessions, the carefree abandonment of doing whatever she wanted, but I was doing okay.
Nicola dropped her phone and stood up. ‘I need to go home. My eyes are killing me. This artificial air dries out my lenses something terrible. I don’t even want to think about what it’s doing to my skin.’
‘Why don’t you wear your glasses?’ Robin asked through a mouth of crisps.
From where I was sitting I couldn’t see the look she gave him. But it must have been one of her very best withering ones judging by Robin’s face. She left the room without saying goodbye to any of us.
‘We could have a big problem.’ Geraint looked up from his laptop. ‘I’ve had another alert. This time on the Dragon. I’ve got a fragment of an email between a couple of Dimitri’s associates sent this morning: “The Dragon is coming for Dimitri and Rok-Tech . . . The Dragon can tear apart Rok-Tech from the inside . . .” That’s all I’ve got.
I squeezed the bridge of my nose. Sandy’s theory about the Dragon being a double-crossed Chinese businessman hadn’t panned out, and we’d got no further with identifying him. Until we knew exactly who he was or what he was planning, we were at risk of having the whole plan derailed. And the clock was ticking . . .
‘Do we think any of these men could be the Dragon?’ asked Jake, motioning towards the photos of the three Nyan on the whiteboard.
Sandy shook his head. ‘None of the Nyan have any current link to Rok-Tech. That email implies the Dragon is already working there.’
‘Our mission will only be a success if Sergei takes over Rok-Tech and moves forward with selling the VirtuWorld software internationally. If this Dragon starts causing trouble within Rok-Tech it could all be for nothing.’ I looked at Sandy. ‘We need to find him.’
‘We’re stretched enough on resources as it is. We can’t afford to lose days trying to track down a shadowy figure we might never locate.’ Sandy sucked his teeth as he thought. ‘Ask Dasha about the Dragon. She’s wired into Dimitri’s whole business network and all their wives. She might know something.’
I got out my phone and texted Dasha that I’d see her the next day before the committee meeting in the playground near her house. It was going to be risky talking out in the open with lurking bodyguards but if it got us closer to knowing who the Dragon was it would be worth it.
*
‘Well, well, look who’s all grown up.’
Leaving the office and turning down the corridor I had come face to face with Tennant. The years had been kind to him: apart from his dark buzz cut having a few flecks of grey he looked exactly the same. I tried not to wonder if he’d think the same of me.
‘Hello, sir. Been a long time.’
Tennant was a no-nonsense Northerner who’d been my lead trainer at the Farm. The nickname for Platform Eight’s large training ground, situated in a remote part of West Scotland, was down to the enormous warehouse’s rows and rows of tiny cage-like rooms which were our makeshift sleeping quarters and made us feel not dissimilar to battery hens.
‘Good to see still you’re still here.’ This was a much-used line at the Platform. ‘How’s it all going? Becoming a Rat the right choice?’
‘Yes, sir. It was.’ And I meant it. I had never looked back.
‘You’re in Unicorn, aren’t you? What’s Sandy been like as a unit leader?’
‘So far, so good. He’s a miserable git but he hasn’t got any of us killed yet.’
‘I’ll need to talk to you and Jake. Chief is retiring next year and Sandy is on the shortlist to replace him – I’m here for an informal interview with him.’
This was big news and something I couldn’t get my head around.
‘I can’t imagine Sandy wearing a suit every day and having to spend time brown-nosing with Pigeons.’
Tennant chuckled. ‘I thought the same, but this time when we approached him he did express an interest. Maybe after so long underground he thinks it’s time to surface.’ He paused. ‘Well, that and the alimony payments to the ex-wife. So play your cards right and you could be Unicorn’s next unit leader.’
I shook my head. ‘I doubt that. For a start, there’s Jake. He’s got several years’ experience on me. And I don’t exactly think of myself as management material.’
Tennant shook his head. ‘Jake will never leave fieldwork. He needs an outlet. Or there’d be trouble for everyone, particularly him. And don’t knock yourself down – you made it here, didn’t you?’
‘Yes, but I don’t think having a baby has done me any favours.’
‘It’s hard, isn’t it? Always having to prove yourself. Us minorities have a tough time of it.’
‘Sir?’ I took in Tennant’s middle-aged white maleness.
‘I’m gay.’
‘I . . . I didn’t know that.’
‘I’ve never hidden it. People just never really think to ask. My Eight profile actually has under special skills “being gay”. I thought it was a piss-take at first, but the Platform never joke. I think they worry gaydar is real and can’t risk pretend poofs going in undercover.’
I laughed. ‘Yes, that sounds about right.’
‘I’d better go see Sandy. We’ve a lot to get through. It was good to see you, Tyler; and remember, you can do anything you put your mind to. Or did surviving the Farm teach you nothing?’
Tennant was right – I shouldn’t rule myself out just because I had dared to take a few months off to have a baby. I knew I could do the job.
The glass ceiling was no match for a machine gun.
*
‘Why don’t you and Gigi join me in Singapore next week? I just have one day of meetings to get through and then we can stay on and have a proper holiday.’
I had hoped a Chinese takeaway with my husband would be a relaxing end to a long day. But now an argument was coming. ‘Just think, me, you, Gigi, out in the sunshine. Five-star hotel. Cocktails by the pool. It’ll be great.’
‘Of course it would be.’ I put some vegetables and the bigger of the two jumbo spring rolls on to his plate. ‘But you know I can’t. I’ve only just got back to work and I’m leading a big project right now.’
It was all true, and that was before I factored in the horror of coping with a thirteen-hour flight and jetlag with a young baby.
‘I’m sure they can spare you for a week. Most women take a year off for maternity leave.’ He put down his chopsticks. ‘What are you going to regret more – not doing enough “data analysing”, or not spending enough time with your daughter?’ He accentuated the words ‘data analysing’ as if they were swear words.
This was Will, the world’s most relaxed man. Except when it came to not getting his way. I took a deep breath and tried not to raise my voice.
‘And what about you? Aren’t you going to regret doing too much “lawyering” and not enough “daddying”?’ He started to interrupt and I cut him off because I knew what was coming. ‘We’re both her parents. We both have careers. Don’t try to make me feel guilty for wanting exactly what you want.’ I held his gaze as we waited for him to decide if he was going to fight on or back down.
He sighed. A promising sound of retreat.
‘I’m sorry. You’re right. We’re a team and if your work means that much to you I need to respect that.’ I knew he wasn’t convinced. The fact was he knew me well enough that it was difficult to understand why I would be so passionate and dedicated to a job that sounded so damn dull. I had never been tempted to tell him the truth about what my job really entailed.
‘Honey, I kill people for
a living,’ would have him grabbing our daughter and running out the door before I could finish with, ‘but only baddies.’
We both started eating. Busying our mouths with food and our hands with reaching for more. The Singapore idea may have been shelved but there was the unspoken bright pink elephant in the room. That mothers were judged differently to fathers.
Over the years I had fought hard (literally) to show I was just like the other Rats, just as hardcore, just as ruthless. And it had worked. I had been accepted into the elite assassins’ fold and considered an equal.
But now, once again, I was back battling the injustice of inequality. Needing to prove to the office I was just as good at my job even though I was a mother. Needing to prove to even my husband I was just as good a mother even though I was back at my job.
No wonder I felt permanently exhausted.
*
I went upstairs to check on Gigi. She was fast asleep. I stroked her hair and felt the softness of her cheek. Adjusting to going whole days without seeing her was tough. I wished I’d been there to tuck her in. To see her big blue eyes open and hear her rapturous giggles when I showered her with kisses and tickled her neck.
As I melted into our warm soft bed I thought again of the Farm. I had left it ten years ago. No matter how difficult I was finding life now it didn’t even begin to compare to the torment of my time there. It had been nearly a year of being pushed to the limit mentally and physically as instructors like Tennant tested, shouted, prodded and poked at us, weeding out those who were worthy of being a Rat. Every night we would collapse into our tiny rooms, and I would stare up at the wire mesh ceiling and think how we were lined up in what felt like little boxes, training for a job that could lead to us ending in a marginally smaller box all too soon.
It was something that always stayed with me. No matter how grand and beautiful the bedroom was, I would stare at the ceiling and think about how it was just another box. Lying down, looking up, it all felt the same.