“I’m heartbroken,” I muttered. They were the first words I’d wasted on the bitch, knowing I had to keep my mouth shut to continue the façade. But if I ever had the chance to treat her the way she treated Sarah, I was taking it.
“If Tom doesn’t go, then I don’t go. It’s that simple,” Sarah said, and I wondered if she’d put lemon in Elizabeth’s tea to make her look that bitter.
“You are so wilfully obstinate,” Elizabeth scoffed. “This will be one of London’s most prestigious parties, and photographed for society pages. If you’re pictured together, how exactly am I supposed to introduce him?”
“As her boyfriend,” I replied, watching her cheeks flare with temper from corpse white to flaming red as the news sank in.
“Well, that didn’t take you long, you grubby little parasite. Only took a sniff of money to get you interested. Enjoy it while you can, because you won’t see a penny of this family’s fortune,” she said. Her tone was nothing short of venomous and she stood when something in the bottom of the mug caught her eye. “I do not find a single thing about this meeting amusing, Sarah, including this vulgar mug. Tatum Shipping has a reputation to uphold, and I will not have you tarnish that reputation. So, if you insist on bringing the freeloader as your plus one to the Tallingers’, then at least tidy him up a bit,” she said, planting the empty mug firmly on the desk, and stormed out.
I rubbed at my five o’clock shadow that had been so offensive, not in the least bit perturbed by the battle-ax’s temper. The truth was that most of us let a short beard grow in when we were on a mission. It made us harder to recognise and more approachable.
“What was written in the bottom of the mug?” I asked.
“It said ‘You’ve been poisoned,’ “she replied with a small smile.
“Boom!” I offered Sarah my knuckles to bump hers against, before she dropped the metaphorical mike.
“Ready at the gate,” Crash’s voice said in my ear. The blocker stopped the signal to my phone, but I wore a discrete earpiece and cuff microphone, curtesy of the tech boys at MI5. It was smaller and more advanced than anything I’d used before. It wasn’t hard to guess who had the bigger budget.
“Shall we get started?” I asked, wanting her back behind her desk.
Nodding her agreement, she sat down in her chair. If she wondered why I was standing sentry and flanking her from behind, she didn’t have time to ask before the devil himself walked in through the door.
Sarah
I trembled when I saw him. Like a knee-jerk reaction, I couldn’t help myself. The gleam in his eye as he ran his gaze over my body told me just how much he enjoyed seeing me lay in pain at his feet. It was a promise that he’d have me there again before long. Taking a shaky, if not fortifying breath, I reminded myself of the giant at my back, watching over me. Like he knew how much I needed him in that moment, he rested his hand on my shoulder.
“In a world of ordinary mortals, I am Wonder Woman,” I whispered to the room, so quietly it was barely audible even to me.
“Mr Agheenco. I would say that it’s a pleasure to see you again, but I think we both know I’d be lying. I will say though that I didn’t expect you to wait so long before you returned for my decision,” I said, proud that my voice sounded strong and powerful. As far as I was concerned, having him see me at my lowest point didn’t mean I was weak. It only meant that he could see how far I could rise. I was fucking Wonder Woman. He might knock me down, but as long as I could stand back up, I could fight. And even if he killed me, I had an army behind me, listening and waiting to bring hellfire down on his arse.
Behind me, Tom squeezed my shoulder before letting me go, and I could almost imagine that he was proud of me. Vasili smiled, in that ever so slightly creepy way of his as he sat down opposite me, his eyes moving slowly from Tom to me.
“No ‘Vasili,’ Sarah? I thought we’d moved past formalities?”
“Though perhaps not to first-name terms,” I replied. “Oddly enough, having my oxygen supply sharply removed tends to make me prickly that way.”
“You know, that fiery spirit of yours amuses me. When the time is right, I will enjoy breaking it very much. I would imagine that it is your hired muscle that is making you brave. Tell me, Mr Harper, when was it that you were dishonourably discharged from the British Army? Or more specifically, I should say, the twenty second Special Air Service. I’m interested to know if Miss Tatem realises that she’s invested in damaged goods.” Vasili looked smug, as though I’d somehow be terrified at the realisation that he’d unearthed information MI5 had every intention of him knowing. God, I hoped Tom put a bullet in this piece of shit when we were done. Preferably, up his arse, I decided when I thought about all the people this guy had likely trafficked and abused in his lifetime.
“I can’t recall the exact date of my discharge, though I would imagine you already know. It’s irrelevant however. Miss Tatem has an exact picture of my career and credentials,” Tom said. Nothing more. Nothing less. Although highly trained in close protection, the SAS weren’t well versed in subterfuge, so we’d both been given a kind of crash course by government agents. The first thing we’d been told was not to hang ourselves in a lie. Stick as close to the truth as possible to make things easier to remember and not to give any more details than necessary. Most people give themselves away by talking too fast or over embellishing. Tom wasn’t exactly verbose, so I couldn’t image it being that difficult for him. I, on the other hand, was much more likely to speed talk at a mile a minute in stressful situations.
“I know a great many things, and I have been watching you, my little mouse. Watching and waiting to see what you would do. It displeases me greatly that you have engaged Mr Harper’s services,” Vasili said, shaking his head in disappointment.
“It displeases me greatly to be manhandled, but there are some disappointments in life we have to live with, and some we learn from. As you see, Mr Agheenco, I am learning. If you’re concerned that his presence affects my decision, I can assure you that his purpose is merely to act as my personal bodyguard, not to influence my decisions and certainly not to involve himself in my business,” I challenged.
“You keep using that word ‘decision’ like you actually have a choice. There is no choice. There is only my will. One of your employees by the name of Mark Devaney, a rather ordinary and overlooked individual in your chartering department, is also one of my employees. From Monday, Mr Devaney will be making significant alterations to a number of cargo manifests over the next two weeks. For every weekday of those two weeks, you will ensure that you are here and you will sign anything that he puts in front of you. After that, you are free to spend your time flittering about as you wish like the irrelevant social butterfly you are, until I need you again. That is what will happen,” he informed me.
“You forgot to mention the part where we all get rich,” I added, making him smile.
“Perhaps you are more like your father than I gave you credit for.”
“Perhaps.” My fake smile was becoming more strained with every minute of his presence. “I will do as you ask and will sign every manifest amendment that he puts in front of me, and I will play my part socially so as to maintain the stability of the stock prices, but do not send flowers to my father’s house again. This arrangement works because it’s mutually beneficially to us both. When I no longer feel safe, there is little benefit to me.”
“Whether you feel safe or not, is not really any of my concern. The reality of the situation is that you are not safe and never will be. I own you. You are my puppet, and you will do what I tell you to do, when I tell you to do it. If your new friend helps you maintain the illusion that I can’t get to you whenever and wherever I want, then you may keep him. But if I feel like you’re out of line, that you are testing my patience, I will demonstrate on him exactly what happens if you disobey me.”
“Very well,” I agreed, trying hard to swallow back the bile as I contemplated the extend of the horrors he would
rain down on Tom if he realised what we were doing. The fact that I was suddenly being amicable was about the only thing keeping this highly volatile arrangement on an even keel, but even I could see that Vasili was itching to tip the balance of power further and further in his direction. I suspected the only thing that stopped him tipping too far was the knowledge I might fall off the edge. Brutalise and intimidate me too much and I would no longer be able to play the public figure needed to maintain the stability of the company, no doubt pissing off his boss. And everybody had a boss.
I breathed a sigh of relief when he stood, figuring it signalled the end of our meeting. I should have known I wasn’t that lucky. Buttoning his jacket closed, he walked quickly around my desk and braced one hand on it. Before I could even register his intention, his other hand reached for the scarf around my neck, most likely so he could see if I still bore the marks of his brutality. His tainted fingers didn’t make contact with the silk before Tom grabbed at his wrist and bent it slightly at an angle.
“No,” Tom said, practically growling.
“You’ll pay for that,” Vasili warned.
“Don’t touch her again,” Tom replied, ignoring Vasili’s warning. After a tense stare down Tom let him go, and Vasili stepped back, hate exuding from every pore.
“Your guard dog needs to be brought to heel, Sarah, but no matter. I simply wanted to see what superhero you were wearing today. I’m sure that I will find out for myself soon enough though. Until the next time,” Vasili said, still wearing a nasty sneer, and turning on his heel, left as abruptly as he’d arrived.
As soon as the door closed, I stumbled over to the small sofa in the corner of the office and sank down into the seat with my head in my hands. Vasili was right. Tom’s presence had allowed me to create the illusion that I was safe when, in reality, I was anything but. My breathing became more and more shallow as my panic worsened, but there was nothing I could do to control it, until I felt Tom’s hand grip my chin, forcing my eyes up to meet his.
“In and out. Come on, Sar. Breathe with me. In and out. Nice and slow.” His voice was calm. It worked. The longer I stared deep into his big brown eyes, the less I struggled for air. By the time I was breathing normally again, there were tears in my eyes. Moving his hand, he brought my head down to rest against his shoulder.
“Want to tell me what that was all about?” he said, as he rubbed reassuring circles on the back of my neck with his thumb.
“He knows what kind of underwear I’m wearing. It means, either he’s been in my bedroom or he has cameras there. If he can get into my bedroom, he can get to me,” I said. Even though Vasili hadn’t touched me this time, I felt dirty. I was so embroiled in the stench of his corruption, I worried that no amount of water in the world would ever make me clean.
“I promise you there are no cameras in your bedroom and nobody has been in there since you became a part of this operation. My guess is the house was scouted before he ever approached you. He’s probably been through all your personal stuff, maybe even stolen a pair or two of your knickers so he can remind you that he can get to you. They’re all classic intimidation techniques, and they’ll only work if you let them,” he reassured me.
“Two weeks, he said. Two weeks of knowing every time I shower or undress, he’s listening. Two weeks of signing anything he puts in front of me. How many lives will I be destroying in those two weeks? Every document I sign could be another human life smuggled or another shipment of weapons aimed at women and children. How can I ever close my eyes again knowing that I made that happen? That I okayed it, all for the greater good?”
No matter how often I built up my walls, talked myself around, and convinced myself that I was acting for the best, Vasili’s presence stripped all of that away. In the aftermath of his warning was the realisation, not only that I would never be free of this, but that I was as bad as he was. Running to the government might have seemed like the right thing to do, but my goal had been to end the tragedy, not to partake in more misery. My intentions were good, but the path to hell was still paved with good intentions. The very first time I signed one of those manifesto changes, I was condemning myself and someone else’s soul to hell.
“We’ve downloaded and saved every shipping manifest for the next six months, and MI5 will cross reference that against the changes. They’ll be tracking each and every shipment and where it goes. These aren’t actions without consequences. This isn’t one of those times where you have to sacrifice one life to save hundreds. We’re trying to save them all. But if we take down Vasili now, we stop one criminal. We wait a little longer and we get the entire organisation and their clients. Then we’re not just talking one life, we’re talking thousands,” he reasoned.
“Do you think that will make a difference to the person waiting to be saved?”
“I don’t know. But I do know that unless we bring this operation down from the very top, this will happen over and over again. Like fucking weeds, we need to dig them out from the root before we kill them, or they’ll just grow back. If you really want to save lives, you help me find those shipments and keep it together.”
I pulled back to look him square in the face, and he met my gaze unflinchingly. In his eyes, I saw nothing but honesty and determination. He truly believed that what we were doing was for the best, and his conviction gave me hope. Hope that I really was doing the right thing. That I would save lives, even if, ultimately, that life wasn’t my own.
“I’m sorry. You’re supposed to be my babysitter, and instead you seem to be peeling me off the walls every two minutes. I am strong enough to handle this, I promise. But I’m glad you were here. I lose my nerve completely when he’s around,” I admitted.
“Appear weak when you are strong and strong when you are weak.”
“Now who’s been reading cushions?” The corner of my mouth lifted in a small, grateful smile.
“Sun Tzu. The Art of War.” His answer impressed me.
“What did you say your degree was in again?”
“I didn’t. Now get your arse up, buttercup. We’ve got a job to do.”
We worked diligently for the next eight hours, gathering as much information as we could before Vasili’s contact began changing everything. It angered me to realise he’d had a permanent spy here all along. How many times had Tom and I walked past him without realising it? We scanned hundreds of documents and saved thousands more to flash drives. Not only manifests but memorandums, dock reports, faxes, anything that would clue us in to the shipments that were being altered and the buyers collecting those shipments at the other end. If we could locate any legitimate evidence of tampered containers, MI5 might get lucky in tracing the buyer at the other end. Most docks these days had pretty intensive surveillance for insurance purposes. I was practically falling asleep on a report, when Tom hauled me to my feet and reached for my coat.
“We don’t have to go yet. I’m fine to keep going for a while,” I protested.
“No. You’re not. You’re exhausted, and between the pacing and the tossing and turning I hear from your bedroom each night, I know you’re not sleeping much. You need to get some rest before you burn out and slip up somehow.”
“Just a little longer?” I begged.
“I get that you don’t want to go home, but you know you can’t stay here.”
“Dad’s place is about as far from home as you can get.”
“Well, stop getting your knickers in a knot and put your coat on. We’re not going there. Not tonight. We’re going somewhere you can feel safe and get some sleep.” I had no idea where he meant, but I was already sold.
“What about the fundraiser?” I asked, sleepily. My first corporate party was in less than twenty-four hours, and honestly, pulling teeth was more preferable than going.
“Don’t worry, we’ll be back in time for the party.”
“And MI5? Are they okay with us going off the reservation?” I asked, putting on my coat and gloves.
“You worry too
much,” he replied, without ever really answering my question.
Eli pulled up in the car, and within minutes, we were on the road. It took forever to get through traffic, and by the time we hit the motorway, I was drifting off. The comfort of not being under the microscope, combined with the dull hum of traffic, was all it took. Jostling around on the seat, I struggled to find a comfortable position to rest, until a strong arm wrapped around me. Resting my head on Tom’s shoulder, I found the peace I was looking for, and the last thing I remembered for the next hundred miles was the addictive scent of soap and aftershave that belonged to the only man who’d ever made me feel safe.
Sarah
“Fuck me, she sleeps like the dead. Want me to carry her in?” Eli said. On the periphery between awake and asleep, my eyelids felt lead-lined, they were so heavy, so I kept them closed.
“I’ve got her,” Tom replied quietly. A quick release of the catch and the seatbelt slithered away, leaving Tom room to slide his arms beneath me and haul me effortlessly into the warm cocoon of his chest.
“I’m awake,” I protested, without feeling.
“Go back to sleep, buttercup. I’ve got this.” His deep, calm voice in the darkness felt like a soft fleece blanket on a cold winter’s night. Warm and reassuring, the sound wrapped itself around me, seeping into my bones. Fatigue had lowered my resistance, and though I sensed I would regret my decision when the sun rose, I succumbed to the comfort of his strong arms and relaxed against him.
“What’s the ETA for the rest of the guys?” Tom asked.
“They’ll be here in a little over an hour. Crash went in straight after we left. He wanted to install more surveillance in Sar’s office. MI5 are in there too, loading up that Devaney guy’s computer full of shit. Five minutes after his name was mentioned, they were probably tearing his life apart,” Eli replied.
“They’ll be half starved when they arrive, and we need to debrief after today. Can you order some food? Takeaway menu’s on the fridge. We eat first, then I want to go through Agheenco’s meeting transcripts, make sure I didn’t miss anything. After that, I want to look at the target shortlists. I’d be surprised if the final takedown is anything other than a forcible entry before the cargo is unloaded, so I want that simulated until we have it nailed. That means we need to know what kind of container ships we’re looking at. Entry points and exits, blind spots, the lot,” Tom said. He rarely raised his voice, but it was so commanding, he didn’t need to.
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