by A. R. Zander
Li’s conversation with the uniform became more animated, both men pointing and shouting towards the end of tunnel.
“You think Harper did all this?” said Russell, keeping his voice low.
“I don’t know. That’s not a theory I’m planning on pushing with the Hong Kong police.”
“I think that’s wise.”
Li split off from his conversation and ushered them back towards the tape. “You need to get out of here now.”
“What’s the rush?” said Russell.
“There’s been a city-wide alert put out for two suspended British detectives matching your description.”
“We’re not suspended,” said Cohen.
“The alert says you are. The order is to arrest you on sight.”
“Jesus,” said Russell. “Who put out the alert?”
“The request came from London.”
- Chapter 35 -
Out of the Shadows
A security guard was tapping on the window of one of the black Mercedes as Varndon walked out the front door of the British Consulate General. The sky had blackened and threatened to tip a deluge all over Hong Kong Island. Ashansky stepped out of the first car and peered up at the clouds. “Looks like a storm,” he said, leaning on the roof of the car and pointing upwards.
“Maybe,” said Varndon. “I thought I told you not to come here.”
“What? Are you embarrassed of us?”
“No. I just don’t think it’s a good idea for you to come here.”
Ashansky grunted. “So, let’s walk.”
“Fine. Just move the cars will you. It looks like a bloody mafia funeral out here.”
Ashansky tapped on the roof of the car and they pulled off. The two men crossed the street and started down the hill towards Queen’s Road East. The Russian pulled out his sunglasses and put them on. “Nikolaev and his crew are dead.”
“All of them? Are you sure?”
“I’m sure,” said Ashansky. “Their corpses were scattered all over Kowloon.”
“You think they found Vitsin?”
“There was no sign of him, but the body of some old professor of his was mixed in with a load of dead KGB.”
“You mean FSB?”
Ashansky shrugged. “Same difference.”
Varndon fished his umbrella out of his coat as a few raindrops started to fall onto the pavement. “What was the professor doing there?”
“He’d been hiding the boy in the basement of some café. They must have followed him there and taken Vitsin.”
“But now they’re dead.”
“Now they’re dead. And the boy is missing.”
Varndon took a piece of paper from his inside pocket and handed it to Ashansky. “This message came through to the Consulate today. And it was addressed to us both.”
Ashansky held the paper under Varndon’s umbrella to keep it away from the rain. I have Vitsin. I want to make a deal. Meet on the last ferry to Macau tomorrow. Come together. No weapons. Any sign it’s more than the two of you and I’ll happily hand him over to the Russian embassy. Harper.
Ashansky screwed up the note and put it in his pocket. “Looks like little Mishka is playing a new game.”
“I don’t like it. He’s acting like he’s got nothing to lose.”
Ashansky laughed. “Believe me, he’s got plenty to lose. When he is tied to a chair and I allow Gershov to demonstrate some of his more creative skills with a razor blade and a blow torch, he will know he has plenty to lose.”
“How many men can you get for tomorrow?”
“As many as you need.”
“Good. The FSB will have another team out here in 48 hours. We need to finish this before they have chance to react.”
“Oh, and I got someone to pay a visit to little Mishka’s flat in London yesterday.”
“And?”
“Turns out he has been visiting a rather expensive head doctor.”
“Really. Get someone over there. I want to see his files.”
“I’m way ahead of you.”
They reached the main road and Ashansky put his hand in the air. One of the black Mercedes pulled up in front of them and Gershov emerged onto the pavement and opened the door for his boss. He eyeballed Varndon, who held his gaze.
“Just remember that Harper is mine,” said Ashansky.
“He would have been yours already if your help was more efficient.” Varndon didn’t flinch as Gershov snarled in his direction. “I’ll be in contact tomorrow. Don’t bring these people to the Consulate again. We’ve got standards to keep up.”
*****
Tamara Wainwright put her spectacles down on the table and rubbed her eyes. The front door slammed and she watched her last patient of the day meander down the path and cross the road. She felt sorry for the man as he disappeared down the street and round the corner. His voice had cracked with emotion throughout the whole hour. Resisting the urge to walk over and put an arm round him was hard, but there had to be a line. Physical contact invited confusion into the relationship in a male patient’s eyes. She had seen him on the evening news a few weeks before. He was the head of a major company and a regular talking head on the television. This was not a man many would guess was being bullied by his own staff and his wife and teetering on the edge of a breakdown. His issues would take time to resolve. She just hoped that he had time.
“Sigmund, here Sigmund.”
She took a tin of dog meat from the cupboard, scooped the contents out into a bowl and placed it on the floor. “Come on Sigmund.” She waited for the familiar sound of the dog bounding down the stairs into the kitchen, but it didn’t come. She stopped what she was doing and listened.
“Sigmund?”
A cold draught blew on her ankles as she walked through into the lounge. She stopped as she saw the open French window at the end of the room. The air blew on her face and her skin tingled. She stepped out and looked around for the dog. Its toys were scattered around, some half-buried in the mud. She felt the moisture of the grass on her bare feet as she walked through the foliage archway. A faint whimpering came from one of the bushes to the side of the flowerbed. She dropped down to her knees and pushed aside the leaves and branches. The dog’s front paws lay limply on the mud and it recoiled at her touch. She pushed the branch aside a bit more and caught sight of the dog’s blood-soaked stomach.
“My God, Sigmund.”
She placed her had on the mud and as she lifted it, the red liquid dripped down her wrist and onto her white blouse. She sprung to her feet, holding her hand out in front of her. As she backed up away from the dog, a hand covered her mouth and an arm grabbed her around the chest. She kicked her legs as she was carried back into the house, but the grip was too strong. A second man in a balaclava followed them back into her treatment room and closed the door. She hit her head on the wall as she was thrown onto the couch. The man who had grabbed her closed the curtains and flicked on a small table lamp. She thought about bolting for the door as the two sets of eyes looked at her, but knew there was no chance she would get away.
“Give us files on Matt Harper,” said the second man, handing her a USB stick and pointing towards her computer. The Eastern European accent was thick and menacing. The thought of handing over the details of a patient made her feel sick to her stomach. The man stepped forward and grabbed her by the shoulders and shoved her over towards the computer. She typed in her password, her fingers shaking and leaving sticky, red fingerprints on the keys. She plugged in the USB and pulled up the folder with all her patient files.
“Everything on Matt Harper,” said the voice over her shoulder. “Now.”
She transferred over some of his basic details and paused as she looked at the files with the details of their sessions. His thoughts. Her thoughts. Everything they had had discussed. She felt her head snap back as he grabbed her by the hair and pulled hard. “Everything!” She placed the cursor over the files and dragged them onto the USB. The man waited for them to c
opy and grabbed it out of the computer. She stared at the screen as they spoke to each other in a language she didn’t understand. They fell silent as a knock at the front door disturbed their conversation. She held her breath and braced herself to be hit or worse as they whispered behind her back. She breathed out as they bolted for the door and ran back through the lounge and out into the garden. She staggered over to the curtain and pulled it back. The bullied CEO stood on her doorstep, looking slightly embarrassed. She noticed his forgotten umbrella sitting on a side table, picked it up and staggered unsteadily towards the door.
“Tamara, my God,” he said, as she stood in front of him, her hair bedraggled and her hands bloodstained. “What happened?” She dropped the umbrella and hugged him, holding on tight and not letting go.
- Chapter 36 -
The Island
Harper watched as the last security guard switched on his headlights and drove off down the mountain. The temperature was dropping fast so he zipped up his jacket and walked back towards the monastery. The clouds hung low around the Lantau peak and he could feel them caressing his face. They would be safe here, he thought. Safer than in the city anyway. He made his way round to the back of the building and opened the door. Vitsin sat in the far corner, his gaunt face lit by flickering candlelight.
“How are you feeling?” said Harper.
“My leg still aches a little from the crash, but I’m okay.”
“That’s good. Here, I got this for you.” He handed him a bottle of water.
“I never meant to cause all this trouble, you know,” said Vitsin, struggling to twist off the bottle cap and putting it to his lips.
“You don’t have to explain anything to me.”
“I feel like I need to explain.”
Harper stayed silent.
Vitsin crossed his arms and bent forward a little. “At first it was just offers. You security services and ours, both offering me the world to come and work for them. They were persuasive, but I told them I wasn’t interested.”
“I can imagine that didn’t go down well.”
“They knew I was getting close to completing my work. And I’m sure if I had everything stored on a computer they would have just taken what they wanted. But I write very little down.”
“So they tried to take you instead.”
“I noticed people hanging around my apartment at night and the same faces were walking past me several times a day. Watching. Waiting.”
“Why didn’t you ask someone at the fund for help? Katusev maybe?”
“Everyone was on edge by this time. Katusev had his own problems with the government. I didn’t want to throw my problems on him too.”
“So what happened?”
“Some people tried to grab me late at night near the Metro station. I had a knife in my pocket. I stuck it in the biggest one’s gut and ran. I ran and didn’t look back.” Vitsin wept and wiped his eyes with his sleeve.
“None of this is your fault Seva.”
“So many people have died since. I just wish I had stayed in Moscow.”
Vitsin looked up. He was unconvincing as a man of close to 20-years-old. He had no facial hair and the build of a youth. He crossed his legs with one thigh on top of the other, his foot twitching loosely on the end of his leg.
“I shouldn’t have brought the professor into this. It’s my fault he’s dead.”
Harper sat down next to him. “Did you pull the trigger?”
“That’s not the point.”
“Did you pull the trigger?”
“I suppose not.”
“The answer is no Seva.”
Vitsin said nothing.
“They killed Ruminenko. Not you. You have to believe that.”
Vitsin stood and walked over to the back of the temple. Golden Buddha statues lined the wall. Harper followed and stood beside him.
“You know, the professor always told me I should dedicate myself to something more pure, but I would never listen.”
“I imagine it was hard to resist the big offers.”
“The money was nice, but it was more than that. I wanted to prove I could do what no one had ever done before. Katusev and Cavendish gave me that opportunity.”
“And Ruminenko tried to stop you?”
“He came from a different era. An era where they changed the world. He just wanted that for me too. He understood that what I was going to do was intellectually empty.”
“There’s still time for you to achieve other things.”
“You think?”
“Sure. You can do anything you want.”
“I just want this to be over. I’m tired of running.”
“I’m not sure it will ever be over Seva. But after tomorrow, you can disappear and try to make a new life for yourself. That’s the most I can offer.”
“And that’s the most I can expect.” Vitsin sat down in the corner of the room and rested his head on a pile of carpet.
Harper blew out one of the candles. “Did Anya say where she was going?”
“She went up the hill to look at the big Buddha statue.”
Harper ducked through the door and went back outside. The statue dominated the landscape. The lights around its base illuminated it for miles around. He set off into the misty gloom. Insects buzzed around the plants and small animals scuffled in the undergrowth. When he reached the bottom of the steps, he could see Anya’s tiny figure ascending them in the darkness. He slowed down halfway up as his breathing got faster and the sweat started to soak his shirt. As he reached the top, he listened, but all he could hear was his own breathing. He climbed over the security gate and jumped down onto the other side. He circled the statue and found her sitting cross-legged next to one of the lights.
“Was the conversation too dull down there?” he said, sitting down next to her.
“I just wanted to let Seva be on his own for a while. I don’t think he is much for company.”
Harper wiped his forehead with his sleeve. “I’m sorry that you got caught up in all this Anya. That was never my intention.”
“I don’t blame you.”
“Well, I’m sorry anyway.”
“What’s your real name?”
“Matt Harper.”
Anya swiped her hand slowly through the mist in front of her face. “You should be careful you know. Lies flow from your lips like breath from your lungs. Women will find it hard to trust you.”
“It’s my job Anya. It’s not me.”
“That’s what everyone says when they start a job. But one day they wake up and they are the job. Is that what happened to you?”
“I don’t know, maybe.” Harper thought about it for a few moments and pushed it from his mind. “Where will you go?”
“I don’t know. I can’t go back to Russia. They’ll be waiting for me there.”
“If you need some money, I can help you out. It’s the least I can do.”
“That’s kind. But I have some savings overseas. I think I’ll be okay.”
Harper looked out into the darkness. Lights from a boat or a lighthouse twinkled in the distance. He concentrated on the stillness and tried to push any lingering violence from his mind.
Anya looked at him. “What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Where will you go?”
“I don’t know. It’s difficult to escape what I’m running away from.”
“You mean those gangsters and your spies?”
“I’m not afraid of them. There are worse things to be afraid of in this world.”
Anya put her hand on his. He flinched away, pulling his arm towards himself. She reached out and took his hand again, bringing it back and setting it down between them. “What happened to you Matt? There is a lot of pain in your eyes.”
“It’s not something you want to know.”
“Maybe not, but it seems it’s something you need to say.”
Harper’s face hardened. “Those gangsters. I infiltrated thei
r organization in my last operation. That’s why they’re after me.”
Anya said nothing, not pushing him to speak.
“We were on a boat one night, delivering some weapons just off the coast near Portrush in Northern Ireland. The drop point changed at the last minute and I snuck away to make a call to my handler.” Harper clamped his hands together as the shakes coursed through his fingers. “There was this Ukrainian kid, only thirteen, he worked for one of the gang members and had come along on the boat. He caught me on the phone, heard everything, and went running to Gershov, accused me of being a copper. He was shouting it around to everyone. Really fucking things up for me. Gershov knew Ashansky wouldn’t buy it, I was about to marry his daughter after all, so he saw his chance to get to me another way.”
“How?”
“He knelt the kid down on the deck and accused him of talking shit. He said there was only one way to find out. That undercover coppers don’t shoot people. Then he put a gun in my hand.”
“What did you do?”
Kill him Mishka.
“I did what I had to do to stay alive.”
Anya kept her hand on his. Harper felt his eyes moisten and he turned to look away from her, wiping them with the back of his hand.
“I see that kid’s face every day of my life Anya. He wasn’t some hardened criminal. He was just a kid. It’s not really something I can run away from.”
Harper stood up. “I think the lack of oxygen up here is making me feel dizzy. I’m going to go down and get some rest. We need to get up early tomorrow.” He turned his back and started to walk back towards the top of the steps.
“You know Matt. I don’t think you’re a bad person.”
“No? Well, I can’t say I agree with you on that one.”
“You should come with me to the airport tomorrow morning. Forget about those people and start a new life somewhere.”
“And what about Seva?”
“Seva is not your responsibility.”
“I know. That’s why I have to make sure he’s okay.”