Killing It

by Asia Mackay

  I listened outside it and then pushed it open. The office was a small room with only a large desk and chair, a rickety wooden bookshelf and a hideous abstract painting on the back wall.

  ‘Who wants to bet it’s behind here?’ I took down the painting and uncovered a small safe built into the wall.

  ‘Jackpot.’ Geraint came in through my earpiece. ‘That is one shit safe. Standard model from a hardware store. Forget wasting time cracking the code, the charge you used to blow the door will work easily.’ He was right. In seconds I was looking inside the safe with the broken keypad on the floor. There was nothing inside except a brown envelope and what looked like a few Russian passports.

  ‘Envelope secure.’

  I put the envelope down the front of my suit, shut the safe door and replaced the painting.

  I was making the mistake of thinking things were going like clockwork when Robin crackled through.

  ‘Four men approaching. Shit. They’ve seen the door, and are entering the building now. They’re armed. One’s on the phone.’

  Fucking brilliant. I was trapped in the back office of a basement restaurant. Badly outnumbered. And that was before the reinforcements they had called for arrived. My heart rate sped up and the adrenaline kicked in. I had to get out of here. This wasn’t going to be the end for me. A Russian dumpling dive was not where I was going to expel my last breath and leave Gigi without a mother.

  ‘Back exit – where is it?’

  ‘There’s a fire exit leading into the next-door alleyway. Looks like you passed it on your way to the office. Robin, get the van over there now.’ If Sandy was remotely worried for me his voice didn’t betray it. I agreed with his assessment I needed a fast exit and a fast getaway. Robin was going to be little help to me down here.

  ‘Keep the engine running. I’ll be there in two.’

  My odds were not good. The men were likely to split up once they had searched the main restaurant. It would only be a matter of time before they found me and I didn’t back my chances of taking out all four solo.

  I looked around the small office. Hide in plain sight. I reached inside my suit and took out my small penknife. I opened it and slit it across the palm of my hand. The blood came fast. I smeared it all over the side of my face. I looked around the room. On the desk was a large package wrapped in brown paper and string. Inside the desk drawers I found nothing but pens, paperclips, papers and a small roll of masking tape. I took out the masking tape and placed my head cam and earpiece inside the drawer. I heard the slam of the double doors as the men entered the corridor. I figured I had less than ten seconds. Picking up the safe keypad and its broken wires off the floor I placed them on top of the package and pulled the desk chair to the centre of the room. I sat down and stuck the package on top of my lap along with the small charge I had used to blow the door. I set the timer and pulled off a small piece of masking tape.

  When two of the men entered the office guns drawn, they were confronted with a terrified bleeding woman, hands tied behind her back, a strip of tape across her mouth while on her lap was a large package with a lot of flashing lights and wires. They stopped and looked at each other, unsure what to do. The first man came towards to me slowly, still with his gun drawn, and ripped the tape off my mouth.

  ‘Oh thank God, help me please help me! You have to call the police. It’s a bomb. A fucking bomb. I’m so scared, oh Jesus, I’m so scared.’

  He looked back to the other man and started talking in fast Russian, then reached out a hand to the ‘bomb’.

  I screamed. ‘Oh God, don’t touch it, don’t touch it!’ The timer lit up and started beeping. ‘Oh God, it’s about to go!’ The numbers started counting down from three minutes. ‘Please help! Please!’ The men looked at the timer and then at each other again and, without speaking, started running. I could hear them down the corridor shouting to their colleagues, who, from the clattering and banging sounds, were searching the kitchen.

  I quickly pushed my little invention off my lap and replaced my head cam and earpiece.

  ‘Coming out now.’

  I stood by the office entrance until I heard the sound of the double doors swinging as the men raced into the main part of the restaurant.

  It was amazing how the threat of an imminent explosion would wipe any coherent thought. The questions of who was I? What was I doing there? Who did this to me? All forgotten about in favour of running before the force of an explosion pulled them apart limb from limb.

  I could hear the faint sounds of the men as they stumbled past tables and chairs.

  I started down the corridor.

  ‘You seeing this? Which way?’ Sandy’s answer was blocked out by the sound of the double doors smashing open. Fuck, they were back. I ran down the corridor away from them and heard the burst of gunfire behind me. As I was turning the corner I could hear Sandy saying, ‘Try the blue door.’

  It was right up ahead. I raced towards it. I had my hand on the handle when by my feet I felt a gust of cold air coming out from under the door. A cold room. I bypassed it for the kitchen. The fire exit had to lead out from there. The voices were getting nearer. I heard the cold-room door open and slam.

  At the back of the kitchen was a large door. I charged through it, tripping over three crates on the way. I was down, but only for a minute. Concrete steps ahead of me led up to two large fire exit doors. I had nearly made it. I ran up them three a time and felt bullets missing me as they hit the wall. I burst through the doors and straight into the passenger side of the van. We screeched out of there without a backwards glance as bullets pinged off the back of the reinforced van doors.

  *

  Back at the Platform I went straight to Sandy’s office and dropped the brown envelope on to his desk. He was on his laptop and barely looked up, not surprisingly as, considering he still used two fingers to type, he couldn’t afford to lose his concentration.

  ‘Here it is. Hope that shuts the Nyan up.’

  ‘Good work, Lex. See you tomorrow. Have a lie-in.’ He was still staring at the screen.

  ‘I have a baby. Those words don’t exist anymore.’

  He looked up. ‘I don’t give a crap. I’m attempting to be fucking nice. Things got pretty hairy back there. Come in late.’

  ‘All heart, you are.’

  ‘Don’t you forget it. Now fuck off.’

  I obliged and went straight to the showers. I peeled off my suit and got into the cubicle and turned the water on and stood underneath breathing slowly as I let the hot water rush over me. The showers were adjoining the locker room and the cubicle I was in was the only one which had a small shower door made from a crude piece of MDF fixed to it. A token attempt to offer a modicum of privacy to those who desired it – it barely hid much but at least those of us who chose to use it felt a little less exposed.

  I used the shampoo to wash my hair with my good hand and scrub at the dried blood on my face. That was fucking close. I stood back against the cold tiles and shut my eyes.

  What made them come back?

  One minute they were hightailing it out of there and the next they were back, guns blazing. What happened? I thought back over everything as steam filled the cubicle. I remembered something. Amid the clatter of chairs as they brushed past them, a mobile had rung. A stupid ringtone just before the bullets started coming.

  Someone told them to get back in there.

  Someone who knew there was no bomb.

  ‘Lex?’

  I opened my eyes to see Jake looking at me over the shower door, through the steam. I walked up to the shower door and rested my arms on it.

  ‘Back already?’

  ‘Sandy rang screaming about a fucked Pop and you having a near miss. I’m sorry. I should’ve been there.’ He reached out to my face and with his finger rubbed a spot of blood off the side of my cheek.

  ‘It was an easy break-in that went bad. Nearly had to unleash a Movie Star Run.’

  This was what we called that movie fa
vourite of the hero charging towards baddies with all guns firing, cutting them down while not getting hit by a single bullet. Over the years many a Rat had been cornered enough to have no choice but to attempt the Run.

  But it was real life. The bullets would hit, they would bleed, and never get to walk away from it. Much less with a shrug and a smart line.

  ‘Sorry you had to cut your blower short. Was it a good twenty-four hours away?’

  ‘I was in Italy.’ He adjusted his shirt cuff. ‘Managed to get a couple of bowls of pasta in before Sandy rang.’

  ‘But you’re back for good now?’

  ‘Yes. My blower is officially on hold until after we’ve completed the Back-up. We’ll sort through this fucking mess together.’

  I smiled. ‘Good.’

  He smiled back.

  ‘See you in the morning.’ I stepped away from the door and back under the shower head and closed my eyes as I rinsed out the rest of the shampoo. It felt like he was still watching me but when I turned back round the space above the door was empty.

  *

  I slept badly. Gigi slept well. The wind rattled the windows and whistled down the fireplace. Perhaps the howling gales outside worked as a form of white noise keeping her asleep. I was infuriated. Cheated of what could have been a blissful unbroken night’s sleep by my own mind, which would not shut down. How did an easy break-in escalate so quickly to a firefight I was lucky to walk away from? It was a rushed op that we didn’t have enough time to prepare for – did we miss something? The more I thought about it the more I knew that a mobile had definitely rung and whatever was said on that call was what made those men come back for me. And the only words that could have been said to make them want to return to a potential bomb site was the knowledge there was no bomb.

  Who had made the call?

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  ‘ALEXIS TYLER. WE NEED to talk to you.’

  It was nearly lunchtime when I made it into the Platform. I was getting out of the lift when the short woman wearing a dark skirt suit with pristine white blouse and patent black heels spoke to me. Her greying hair was in a smart, tight bun. Anne Agius was from Eight’s head office – she reported directly to our section chief.

  Head office was far away from the dark and grime of Platform Eight itself, within Thames House. All missions that were thrown our way by Five or Six were agreed with our section chief in that nice smart above-board office. Orders that were then filtered through and actioned by us in our underground lair. Anne and her associates never visited the Platform unless there was a serious external problem or internal disciplinary matter to handle. Her presence was always bad news.

  ‘Do I have something to worry about?’

  ‘Just come with me, please.’

  I followed Anne through the network of corridors thinking how out of place this smartly dressed woman looked click-clacking her way across the uneven linoleum flooring. We arrived at a small meeting room far removed from the busier unit offices. Inside the room were two suited men I didn’t recognise. One was thin and in his fifties with a receding hairline. The other was round-faced and bearded. Neither was smiling. I was offered no introduction to their names or positions but motioned to sit. Anne sat down next to the men and I took my place in the solitary chair facing them. The room was set up for an interview and I was clearly the one in the hot seat.

  The thin man cleared his throat. ‘Alexis, we asked you here because your log of items taken from last night’s op doesn’t mention the money.’

  This I did not expect.

  ‘There wasn’t any money. I retrieved the brown envelope as instructed and I was lucky to get out alive.’ I looked between each of them. Their faces remained expressionless.

  The thin man continued, ‘The video footage clearly showed money in the safe. On estimation from the size of the pile, around five hundred thousand pounds. Five hundred thousand pounds the Nyan are now complaining is missing, which they say they’re getting heat for.’

  I was silent. The dread I had been feeling since the realisation someone had tipped off the Russians about the absence of a bomb was mounting. I was pretty sure this was what the beginning of the end felt like.

  ‘There must be some mistake. The safe only contained the brown envelope and a few passports. That was it. My head camera footage should show that. It will also show that at no point am I handling any money.’

  The thin man leaned forward. ‘There are a good four minutes when you removed your camera so we have no idea what you were doing.’

  ‘I removed the camera as I was busy trying to save my life.’

  ‘Convenient. You just had to remove the camera. While alone in a room with five hundred grand.’ He sat back and folded his arms.

  ‘You can see why we’re finding it hard to believe,’ the other man cut in. ‘Especially considering your personal circumstances. Children are expensive, aren’t they? Particularly when you start looking at private schools like Chepstow Hall.’

  They couldn’t be serious.

  ‘Being interested in Chepstow Hall has been part of my cover. Do you really think I would throw my whole career away because I want my daughter to go to a fancy school in a few years’ time?’

  The second man rubbed his beard. ‘You can’t deny that priorities change once you become a mother. And there’s been talk. Concerns that your head’s not really back in the game. We have here a transcript of your session with Doc. Sounds like motherhood did not come easily to you. It’s an upheaval that can bring on a lot of change.’ He looked at me unblinking as he pushed his hands together to form a little pyramid. ‘Having an agent like you, a Rat, with responsibilities at home is a first for us.’

  I stared at the three people facing me.

  ‘Responsibilities at home? The majority of Rats are married. At least a third have children. Let’s be clear here and say what you’re really thinking, which is just because this Rat actually gave birth to their kid it means they’re more likely to become a total fucking loon?’ I bunched my hands into fists. ‘So please tell me what it is about my vagina that makes me so damn crazy?’

  The two men looked at Anne. They obviously felt whatever they had to say would come better from someone with their own crazy-inducing vagina.

  ‘It’s not that at all,’ Anne replied. ‘Any new parent feels a certain level of newfound responsibility and normally women are the ones more affected by the child.’

  The way she stumbled over the words ‘the child’ made me realise she had no children of her own, was in no way inclined to be on my side, and that the men were likely to be more understanding.

  I took a deep breath.

  ‘And what part of what I do, for you, for this country, makes you think I am anything like normal women? How many people do I need to kill, torture or maim before you get that? I’ve had to work ten times as hard as any of the men here just to prove I’m capable of doing what we do. And now you’re saying I have to work even harder to prove I can still do this job because I took a few months off to have a baby?’ I was clenching my fists so hard now I could feel my nails digging into the palms of my hands. ‘When’s it going to stop? What do I have to do to get treated like everyone else?’

  Anne pursed her lips. ‘Look, Ms Tyler, we’re very grateful for all you have done for your country, for your service, but you have to understand we would not be doing our jobs if we weren’t carefully monitoring you and your change in circumstance. There are discrepancies and we need to be thorough.’

  ‘This is bullshit.’

  ‘This is protocol. You need to take the day.’ She stood up. ‘Go home. Spend some nice time with your daughter.’

  I knew the drill. I was being sent home because I was being investigated. My clearance would be frozen and they would right now be running over everything that happened yesterday with a fine-tooth comb. I could forget going into the office; Unicorn would be banned from speaking to me. And I could forget using Eight’s resources to double-chec
k the intel on Dimitri, as I would be barred from our internal network.

  Anne and the two men escorted me back to the lift. We passed Jake standing outside Unicorn’s office. His eyes never left mine and I blinked twice.

  The lift reached the ground floor. Anne walked me out into the street.

  ‘Your access card, please, Alexis.’

  I took my specially modified Oyster card out of my pocket and handed it to her. ‘We’ll be in touch.’ With me safely dispatched to the outside world, she disappeared back inside.

  I stood amid the hustle and bustle of the street as people rushed around me, all on their way somewhere, all with things to do. I watched the faces of strangers coming past me, talking, laughing, life carrying on for them as normal. For the very first time I felt envious of the Sheep and their sweet oblivion.

  This was my own doing. I didn’t want normal and now I didn’t have it. I may have felt sick to my stomach. Furious at what they were accusing me of. Terrified as to what could come next. But I couldn’t complain. I chose to not have the desk job and the nine-to-five. I wanted this. And with that came risks, that one day I could be out in the cold, investigated, and made redundant. By people whose interpretation of the word was a little more final. More Colt 45 than P45.

  *

  I got home and had a long cuddle with Gigi. I smelt her hair, I kissed her cheeks and I told her she was the very best girl in the whole world.

  ‘How come you’re back so soon?’ Gillian was hovering next to us watching.

  ‘My afternoon of meetings got cancelled.’

  ‘That’s lucky, isn’t it? I’ve just made lunch so I’ll eat and then be off. Do you want any?’ I looked over at the indistinguishable white stuff on the table. It may have been macaroni cheese.

  ‘I’m fine, thanks. You go ahead. I just need to sort out some laundry.’ I headed out of the kitchen as Gillian began attempting to get Gigi to eat her lunch. I felt guilty for how grateful I was that Gillian planned to leave – after a day where I had been disgraced at work and now feared my whole career, maybe even my life, were on the line, having to spend an afternoon making small talk with my mother-in-law could be what pushed me over the edge.