Killing It

by Asia Mackay

  He pressed his ear. ‘Any sign of him?’ He paused to listen. ‘Fuck!’ Sandy motioned the Ghosts over to him. ‘Sounds like he made a run for it. Finish her.’ He dismissed them with a wave.

  The blood was flowing faster now. I could feel it. With each pulse from my neck more seeped away. All the fur was matted with red. A wounded animal, down in the dirt, and now they were circling. I looked up at the Ghosts approaching me with guns drawn.

  ‘Gigi.’ I whispered it quietly. I wanted my last word on this earth to be her name.

  A shot rang out.

  The Ghost on my left went down, and then so did the one on my right. I turned my head.

  Jake.

  Doing a Movie Star Run.

  He was charging towards us, gun in each hand firing. Sandy and his two remaining Ghosts were firing back. Jesus. This was about to get bloody.

  Another one of the Ghosts went down. Sandy was running out of human shields to hide behind. I watched him throw his gun to the ground. Empty. He had wasted too many bullets on me. He picked up a chair and threw it through the conservatory glass and stumbled through the opening, the jagged shards tearing into his clothes. It was a short few steps to the safety of the truck.

  Gigi.

  Gigi.

  Gigi.

  She was all I thought of as I slid over towards my gun that Sandy had kicked across the room. My blood, coating the floor, helped propel me forward. My hands were shaking. I knew it wouldn’t be long before I blacked out. I just had to hope I would wake up again.

  Jake and the one remaining Ghost were now both out of ammo and fighting hard on the ground. There was blood on them both.

  I reached the gun and gripped it.

  I lined up the sight of my gun and aimed for Sandy’s head. He had one hand on the truck’s door. This man had wanted me dead. I had worked alongside him for years. But the first sniff of some cash and he had sold me out, sold the whole unit out, sold the whole Platform out. He deserved to die. He would leave behind a legacy of betrayal and I, Jake, all of us at Eight would be tainted by the fact he had been dirty. But what made me hate him more than anything was that his plan, if successful, would have left Gigi without a mother. Without me in her life. And that was unforgivable.

  For that he deserved something worse than death.

  I changed my aim to his good hip. A lifetime of agonising pain and whatever punishment the Committee deemed fit. I fired. Twice. The scream as he went down made me smile.

  *

  I heard a roar from behind me and looked back to see the crumpled body of the last of Sandy’s Ghosts fall to the floor.

  Jake. Bleeding, but somehow still standing. I slumped back to the floor.

  I saw him head over to the writhing, howling figure of Sandy on the ground and put him in a sleeper hold. There was a thud and no more sound. Jake pulled out his phone, tapped a number out and rushed back to me.

  ‘It’s okay, Lex. I’ve called it in. Help is on the way.’ He slid down next to me. ‘I thought I nearly lost you there.’

  I managed a chuckle. ‘No such luck. How long?’

  ‘Eleven minutes. So I just need you to keep warm.’ He pulled his coat off and put it over me. ‘And put some pressure on this little scratch.’ He put his arm round me so he could press down on the bullet wound on my neck.

  ‘What you just did was fucking crazy. It was practically suicide.’

  ‘It worked, though, didn’t it? I pulled off a Movie Star Run. I’m going to be a fucking legend. And you’re still here to give me shit.’

  My throat was tickling and I wanted to cough but knew that would make the pain worse. I tried to clear my throat instead.

  ‘Well, it was nuts.’ He had taken a crazy risk and nearly gotten himself killed and I knew why. ‘You went against all your training, all our procedures, and were a reckless maniac.’ I winced in pain as I tried to move slightly. ‘Because at the end of the day, don’t all women need saving? Even armed ones.’

  Sexism had clearly saved my life. I should be more grateful. But there I was, near death, berating my partner for how he hadn’t treated me the same as one of our colleagues. Principled to the bitter end. A feminist martyr. Or just a fucking idiot who was bleeding out and delirious.

  ‘Lex, saving you had nothing to do with you being a woman.’

  ‘Come on, you—’

  He cut me off with a gentle hand across my mouth as I continued to mumble about what a bloody fool he had been. He talked over me.

  ‘I saved you because you have been my partner for the last ten years. I saved you because you have a child, and the world would miss you more than me. I saved you because, in my own little screwed-up way, I love you.’

  He saw my eyes widen as I finally went quiet. He took his hand away.

  ‘All that would be the same if you were a man.’ He paused. ‘Okay, well, maybe except the last one.’

  I blinked several times. ‘You don’t have to overdo it, Jake. I’m not going to die.’

  ‘Sweetheart, it’s the absolute truth. I know it because it’s what I thought when we were kneeling there together, in the dirt in Tianjin, fucking holding hands. All I could think was, I’m going to die but it’s okay, I’m with Lex. I’m dying with someone I love.’ He shook his head. ‘It scared the shit out of me, and I’ve tried to ignore it. Ignore you. But I guess it must be true as nothing else could’ve made me do something that stupid. And right now we’re not hiding and no one is going to find us, so I can’t pretend it’s going to save your life, there is simply no reason to kiss you other than because I really, really fucking want to.’ He leant down and gently brushed my lips with his, then pulled back and held my face with his hands. ‘Just don’t die, okay?’

  I stared up at this crazy, damaged, beautiful and brave man. This man, who in so many ways knew me better than my own husband. This man who had risked his life to save mine. This man who I had fought alongside for so many years and had never taken the time to notice that he had a heart too. That he wasn’t the psychopathic machine I had written him off as. This man, broken in so many ways, opening himself up to someone for the very first time in his strange, dark life. And I knew what I had to do. What I needed to say to him.

  But then everything went black.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  I WAS AWAKE BUT I felt like I was floating. I blinked a few times until everything came into focus. I was lying in a bed with crisp white sheets. Looking around, I recognised the room. I had been in an identical one to this many times before. There was an en-suite bathroom, a large wardrobe, a mini fridge and a good-sized flatscreen television fixed to the wall. The only giveaway that this was a hospital room and not a hotel room was the intravenous drip attached to my arm and an array of switches and buttons behind the bed. The exclusive private Kensington Wing of Chelsea and Westminster Hospital was where all injured Rats ended up. We all had comprehensive health insurance which covered our frequent stays here, where we were cared for by a fleet of security-cleared doctors and nurses who knew not to ask any questions and write reports to fit in with designated cover stories.

  I took a deep breath in and out. I was alive. I had made it. And I was, judging by the lack of pain and tell-tale light-headedness, flying high on morphine. I felt the bandages covering the place the bullet had entered. Physical proof it hadn’t all been a drug-induced bad dream. Another scar to add to the collection.

  How long had I been here?

  Gigi. Will. My heart started racing. Were they safe? I tried to fully sit up and failed. I reached to the side of the bed, grappling for the call button.

  The door opened and Jane Thornton walked in.

  ‘Hi, Lex. Glad to see you’re awake.’ She sat down in the chair next to the bed. ‘You’ve been out for just under twelve hours. The operation to get the bullet out went well. Don’t worry, I’ve spoken to Will. I told him you’d been in a bad hit and run. He’s on his way.’

  The fog in my mind started to lift and I looked down at my
hands.

  ‘I’m taking it as a good sign that I’m being treated here and not in handcuffs in the Box?’ High-level interrogations took place in a remote building next to the Farm which had numerous soundproofed rooms that housed an array of very special toys. Its nickname was both on account of the large square concrete building’s box-like appearance, and a reference to what a great deal of interviewees would leave in.

  ‘You’re in the clear.’ Jane frowned. ‘Sandy’s attack on you and Jake was completely unauthorised. If that wasn’t enough to make us question his motives Dasha has come in and Dugdale delivered a large number of intelligence reports that back up Jake’s evidence from Russia.’

  ‘I need to see Jake. Is he okay? He was also hit.’ I remembered the blood staining his white shirt.

  ‘Jake’s already been treated for his injuries and released. He’s now back at the Platform being debriefed.’

  ‘And what about Sandy? Where is that piece of shit?’

  ‘He’s the one at the Box. I hear they’re withholding pain medication until they get the answers they want.’ We both took a moment to enjoy the image of Sandy writhing in agony.

  I lay back on to the pillow. It really was all over.

  ‘How long do the doctors say I need to be in here?’

  ‘A few weeks. You’ve lost a great deal of blood and they need to keep an eye on how the wound heals.’

  I stared up at the ceiling.

  ‘I can’t believe it came to this. Sandy set me up brilliantly.’

  ‘When everything kicked off he told everyone at the Platform that having a baby had made you go crazy, sell out your unit and betray us all.’

  ‘Did you buy it?’

  ‘Not for a minute. No woman who makes it to becoming a Rat would throw it all away for one big payday.’

  I slowly nodded my head. ‘You’re right. Before all this, my job was everything to me. But now . . .’ I kept staring at the ceiling, thinking about how close I had come to dying, to leaving Gigi behind. ‘Maybe this isn’t for me anymore.’

  Jane’s brow furrowed. ‘Really? After all you’ve been through to get here you would give it up? Being a trailblazer is never an easy path. But by proving to Eight we belong, we’re making it easier for the women who’ll come after us. Look at Tennant. When he started out he was one of the first openly gay agents – no one knew what to make of him. Now no one bats an eyelid at a Rat’s sexuality. Breaking down barriers – that’s how the world changes.’ She leaned forward in her chair and stared at me. ‘By people like you and me, taking the first steps.’

  Thanks, Jane. No pressure, then.

  ‘Things were easier before I had my daughter.’ I didn’t know how to explain to Jane that now I had Gigi in my life, death was a more terrifying prospect. ‘You’ve never been tempted? To settle down? Have a family?’

  Jane wrinkled her nose. ‘Never even occurred to me. Being a Rat is all I need to feel complete. Doesn’t make me any less of a woman not wanting to procreate. Just as it doesn’t make you any less of a Rat for wanting to.’

  I knew what she meant. If I hadn’t had Gigi, if I had gone down a different path, I don’t doubt that I would have been happy. I would have had a different, definitely less complicated, but just as full life. Having spent all this time fighting to be taken as seriously now I was a mother, I hadn’t ever stopped to think how someone like Jane would have to sometimes deal with questioning looks for not being a mother. We were judged if we did, judged if we didn’t.

  ‘Besides, I don’t do so well at homemaking. You see this?’ She rolled up her sleeve to show the famous burn. ‘I know what everyone says. But no one knows the truth.’ She paused. ‘I burnt it while trying to make a casserole.’

  ‘Come on. Really?’

  ‘I speak five languages, I can kill a man twice my size with my bare hands without breaking a sweat.’ Her eyes glistened as she said this. ‘I have an IQ of 164. I’ve lasted at Eight nearly fifteen years without ever failing in a mission. I can do pretty much anything I put my mind to . . . but I can’t cook. Domesticity is not a part of life I enjoy.’ She pulled her sleeve back down. ‘Wife and mother wouldn’t work for me. Doesn’t mean it can’t for you. And surely if anyone can have it all, it’s someone who’s made it to being the best of the best?’

  ‘I know. I just . . .’ I trailed off. I didn’t know what I wanted anymore.

  ‘Don’t let this little hiccup put you off. Take an extended blower. After what you’ve been through the Platform aren’t going to deny you taking a few months off. Assess your situation again when you’re back. I don’t want you to leave. I need to know there’s at least one other Rat who isn’t going to fall apart the next time it’s flu season.’

  My room door burst open and a dishevelled Will came rushing in.

  ‘Oh, Jesus, there you are. Thank God.’ He rushed past Jane and came straight to my bedside, picking up my hand. ‘How are you?’

  ‘I’m fine. Bruised and battered but fine.’ I looked up at his worried face and chewed the inside of my cheek to stop the tears I felt prickling. He never needed to know how close he had come to losing me. I cleared my throat. ‘Where’s Gigi?’

  ‘I left her with Mum and drove straight here as soon as I got the call from your colleague.’

  I motioned towards Jane. ‘This is Jane. The one who rang.’

  Will whipped around, seeing her for the first time. ‘Jane, sorry, I was so worried. Thank you for calling and staying with her. I got here as fast as I could. I just bloody hope they catch the maniac who did this.’

  ‘Yes, he deserves to be punished.’ Thankfully Will had turned back to me so missed Jane’s smirk and her eyes brightening at this thought. ‘I’ll leave you two alone.’ She got up. ‘Goodbye, Lex. Get well soon and think about everything I said.’ She closed the door gently behind her.

  I reached up and stroked Will’s cheek. I had defied the odds and made it back to him and Gigi. Our family was still intact.

  ‘You know what, mon cher? It’s time to start planning that holiday you keep going on about.’

  Three months later

  Epilogue

  Cruising

  cruise, v.

  Gerund or present participle: cruising.

  1. To proceed speedily, smoothly or sail about, especially for pleasure.

  2. (of a young child) Walk while holding on to furniture or other objects for support, while learning how to walk.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  A LARGE BUNCH OF flowers was on my desk with a note.

  Every time you fuck with Johnnie Mac’s head he writes a hit song – keep up the good work! Your friends at Demon.

  Johnnie had just released another song that looked destined to be an even bigger hit than ‘Lady’. It was called ‘Killer’. Thanks Johnnie, real subtle, that one. It seemed our last encounter had provided worthy inspiration for a song.

  ‘The lady was a killer, armed with a poisoned dart, she stomped all over my dreams, she slayed my foolish heart. Why did I have to fall for a killer, killleerrr, killer.’

  The riff was irritatingly catchy.

  It was my first day back at the Platform since the events that nearly cost me my life. After several long bedside debriefs I was discharged from hospital and granted an extended blower. It meant I got to enjoy the run-up to Christmas without any of the usual overtime at the Platform. Walking around town with Gigi, I saw another side to the season of sparkly tinsel and brightly coloured lights. One where jolly bearded men in red weren’t packing secret weapons in their oversized tummies, and their little elves weren’t brandishing beautifully wrapped explosive devices. After a quiet Christmas Day spent with Gillian and my parents the three of us waved them goodbye and headed to Thailand. I had been nervous about going too far away; getting through a long flight and jetlag seemed too much to do with a young baby. But then people kept trying to kill me and it didn’t seem such a big deal.

  Our time away was every bit as exhausti
ng, magical and unforgettable as I knew it would be. We took on the role of proud parents with vigour. There were photos of the first time Gigi’s podgy little feet felt sand, photos of her drinking a fruit punch wearing Mummy’s sunglasses (I could nearly hear Tamara’s horrified reaction of ‘Don’t you know juice rots their teeth?’), photos of her first salty dip in the sea. Will and I rushed around after her all day achieving a healthy Insta:Shit ratio of 2:1. And when she was finally asleep we enjoyed the balmy nights, sitting outside our beachfront villa, drinking cocktails and talking about her. Our first blower as a family and I returned happy. Wife-and-Mother Lex was a role that seemed to fit.

  And now here I was back down in the darkness of Platform Eight. It was Sunday and all the offices were empty, the hallways quiet except for the distant rumble of the trains. I was here to meet with the section chief. One final debrief with the big man himself before supposedly starting back at work tomorrow.

  I wasn’t expecting to learn anything new from this meeting. Geraint had filled me in on most of the news when he came to visit me in hospital. He was crushed by Nicola’s betrayal and felt guilty he hadn’t spotted it.

  The Rok-Tech hearing had gone ahead as planned and Dimitri’s father had been declared incompetent, an inevitable result of the stroke that Sandy and the Nyan had inflicted upon him to put their plans in motion. Dimitri was now living in Moscow running the company as chairman. The black market sale of the VirtuWorld software to numerous international intelligence agencies fell apart when due diligence discovered a glitch was wiping the data off the electronic devices soon after the user took control. VirtuWorld would still be launched next month and looked likely to overtake Facebook, Snapchat and Instagram as the world’s most downloaded app. It means whenever they fixed that glitch, the superspy software would be all the more terrifying. Rok-Tech was still being closely monitored, although we at least had a little security in knowing that the man in charge loved cold hard cash more than his country.