The Midnight Falcon

by Graham Saunders

  Chapter 10

  He kept on walking into the mountain mist. His strident shape was out of Natasha's sight now, her leg had been trapped when the bike had first toppled on to her and it was painful for her to walk. It had not really been a crash, she had already stopped, just wanting to go back for him in a panic of regret, but the bike was too heavy and as she tried to turn it back it toppled over in an inevitable slow motion... Nothing she could do.

  She crouched down by the bike and called out to him again. Her voice bouncing off the canyon rock. "Colby Linden..." There was no reply other than the forlorn echo; she was alone again and the strands of panic were already pulling tight at her chest. Huddling by the warm engine of the motorcycle her mind fell blank; this was another straw against her camel's back, all too much for her to take. In the mirrors of her imagination she suddenly saw Colby as not her enemy but her saviour and it was her own stupidity that had driven him away. She closed her eyes and wished for her parents, for Gregori... for Valentina.

  "OK I finally get it..." The voice said startling her eyes open and in an instant, her panic faded, he had come back for her after all. "You can't stand me and I sure as hell can't stand you. Let's just get this thing over and done with with the least possible trouble."

  Natasha blinked, he had never spoken to her like this before, always gentle... She hadn't quite realised before how kind he had been to her in face of her constant antagonism.

  "I'm sorry... I didn't mean to do it." She said "I didn't mean the things I said."

  "Just cut the whining and help me lift the bike up onto its wheels."

  The BMW fired into life with the first churn of the starter motor. As far as Colby could see there was no damage other than a misaligned mirror which he quickly twisted back to its designated position

  "Get on." He said with a voice that made it very clear that it was not a request. She accepted the instruction and wrapped her arms round Colby's waist. Colby felt her compliant weight against his back and knew that something had changed between them.

  They rode through Karlovac and then as the weather cleared he turned to the north-west unleashing the BMW's power on the highway to the Capital. They edged along the Sava river with the Medvednica mountains hanging grey in in the distance.

  The city offered a mixture of straight-laced Austro-Hungarian architecture and the crumbling socialist structures sitting together in uncomfortable incongruence. For all its history which stretched back beyond the Medieval city to Roman times, Zagreb was now a modern European city. The sun was already sinking when they stopped briefly at the Kaptol Square, a handsome plaza still imbued with the romance of long forgotten days. Lifting their eyes they could admire the twin spired cathedral, felt uplifted by the devotion that had gone into its construction. The stone glowing orange from the setting sun, it was still the tallest building in the city and dominated the skyline. Caught behind the cathedral a full moon was just showing against the fading blue of the evening sky. The sounds of Zabreb's pulse filled their ears.

  Colby's anger towards Natasha had already faded, he had too much sympathy for the girl's situation. But there was no way he was going to tell her that, if she wanted him to return to the avuncular guardian he had tried to be then she would have to earn it. Natasha had endured something of a wakeup call, the vulnerability of her situation has suddenly been exposed by the harsh spotlight of reality. She needed him, this handsome strong Englishman. He reminded her a little of Gregori, how he might have been had he been allowed to live into middle age. She was even growing to respect Colby, a little. But there was no way she was going to tell him that. He would have to earn that privilege.

  They needed a place to stay and Colby stumbled upon the Hotel Fala. A discrete family run hotel which had a vacant twin room ideal for a father and daughter. Comfortable enough but sufficiently out of the spotlight to attract no unwanted attention. They bathed and changed into their last remaining clean clothes before eating a light meal. They dozed in front of the TV put almost to sleep by an old episode of Sex In The City enhanced with Croatian subtitles and bewildering advert breaks.

  "Colby...Thanks for coming back for me." Natasha said as she climbed sleepily into the warm comfort of her bed. He looked at her big spaniel eyes that suddenly felt like a trap waiting to snare him. Any paternal feeling that may have lain dormant in his heart had been rigorously suppressed over the years and now this kid was in danger of re-igniting the dying embers. He was not her father, she was certainly not his daughter– just don't go there. He told himself.

  "I was just doing my job..." He said to her and turned away towards his own bed. She shut her offending eyes and seemed to sleep for a moment but before he had turned out the light, she opened them again and watched him moving in the shadows carefully folding his clothes. "Colby... we should be friends." She whispered. He let her words dangle. "Colby?" she said again, as if calling for his help. But he did not come to her aid, he lay on his bed and tried to sleep, tried to make himself believe that this was just another job.

  The sound of the room's phone jolted Colby back from a dream. He groaned and checked the time. 2:15 am. He lifted the receiver. "Yes?" he said his voice soft and slurred with sleep. He heard a woman's voice. She spoke a version of American English with maybe the trace of a French accent, the whole package slurred by a little too much alcohol. It was not Valentina, not Jane, not anyone he knew.

  "Linden, why don’t you call me? It's been a nightmare trying to track you down. I know I said some pretty harsh stuff and I'm sorry about that... Can't we just act like grown ups?" her voice softened "Talk to me, Linden you always know how to push my buttons when you're in the mood." There was a gasp of emotion from the woman. "Linden, I need people, I'm no good on my own. Look OK I'll admit it. I need you... I always did."

  "Who is this?" Colby said suddenly wide awake. "I'm not sure you've got the right number."

  "Oh don't give me that... I know you too well Linden." Colby sat up in bed he looked across the room. A lozenge of street light fell across Natasha's bed. He could see the gentle rise and fall of her breath, she was clearly still asleep.

  "Linden, are you still there?"

  "I'm still here but I'm not who you think I am."

  "So who the hell are you then?"

  "Salesman agricultural supplies." He said.

  "Not a Lufthansa pilot then?"

  "No sorry, like I said. I think you have the wrong number."

  "Pity, you sound kinda nice. You married?"

  "No." he said and then wished he had lied. "Are you?"

  "Yes"

  "To Linden?"

  "Hell no... He's not the marrying kind... Like you I guess."

  "Where are you calling from?" Colby asked.

  "Across the street from the Fala. I've got a room in the Tropika. So what are you up to?" Colby knew not to answer.

  "Trying to get some sleep." He said. "What's your name?" Colby was out of bed now. He shifted the curtain an inch to get a view of the Tropika Hotel. It was only a chance decision that he hadn't chosen to stay there himself.

  "Call me Annette, you sound nice Linden. Thing is I could use a drink. You got anything to offer a girl like me? I'd make it worth your while. Like I said... I'm a lonely girl."

  "I've got a bottle of Scotch." Colby said playing along.

  "Vodka shots is what I like. Got any vodka?"

  "What room are you in at the Tropika?"

  "Second floor, room 14... I'll slip out of something pretty." She said. "Bring some ice will you?"

  "OK." Colby said "Give me 15 minutes I need to get dressed."

  "Not on my account Linden... Don't keep me waiting."

  Colby replaced the receiver. He was not quite sure what had just happened but he had no intention of hanging around to find out.

  "Natasha... Wake up, get dressed we need to go."

  Natasha could sense that something was wrong and she made no argument. It took them five minutes to collect their things and mak
e their exit from the Hotel. Colby rode fast into the night making a 100 km diversion from the route he had originally planned. Natasha clung safely behind him enjoying the snarl of the powerful bike with her arms wrapped around Colby's waist. He did not ease the throttle on the BMW until the first glimmer of daylight filtered across the darkness and they were far enough away from Zagreb for the strange phone call to have almost become a half remembered fantasy... Almost.

  They had one day left in their schedule to reach the Italian city of Trieste. Although it marked a transition point in their journey, a significant milestone, Trieste was also a destination that others were aware of and as such was another potential brush with danger. Less than 250 km away it was an easy three hour ride if they took a direct route. Colby wanted to approach Trieste from the north, a route that would not be so readily anticipated. In any case they would need to cross Slovenia and border crossings were places where identities would be exposed.

  They stopped for breakfast at a roadside café and then brimmed the bike's fuel tank. Not really nervous, Colby had been given an extra edge of alertness that had been buried over the past two days when he was confident their anonymity had been assured. He no longer had that confidence. Before collecting their things he consulted the map one more time. He had decided to head north to the Slovenian city of Maribor, carve a shallow arc across southern Austria to Vilach and enter Italy at the Coccau boarder crossing. From there it was an easy jaunt down to Trieste via Udine. He estimated six hours riding time which was a fair stretch to sit on a bike exposed to the elements. He thought of Valentina, of course he did. Wondering how far she had taken the Midnight Falcon. Was she safe? Did her thoughts sometimes stray to him?... Was she really in the pay of those trying to assassinate Natasha?

  Natasha sat close behind Colby her arms gripping tightly. She leaned against his back as if unwilling to let him escape. This was a new thing for Colby, being at the same time both welcome and disturbing to his equilibrium. They rode away from Zagreb into a still morning, a flurry of pigeons startled into the air as they accelerated up the Slavonska Avenija and headed northwards on the E59 toward the border crossing at Maceljj. It was just a small village in the heavily forested area of northern Croatia bordering on Slovenia. A modern multi-lane highway fed into the border control and Colby and Camille Linden were filtered through with routine indifference once their passports had been sighted. A new country lay before them but little had changed, the scenery along the highway sliding from forest to flat farmland and then on to the hills sloping down to the silver ribbon of the Drava River The vineyards along the sloping hillsides finally heralded their arrival at Maribor. If not for the growing nervous tension they could have spent time there exploring the town and the parks.

  They had time to take a break for coffee in the old town surrounded by an endless vista of terracotta roofs. Overhead hung a brilliant blue sky, it seemed as if the whole of Europe was riding on the back of tourism. The crossing into Austria went virtually unnoticed, as member of Schengen Zone, Slovenia has virtually no controls at borders with Italy, Austria or Hungary. They travelled westerly along the autobahn 69. Approaching the Italian border, they slowed and followed a dawdling camper-van down through the tunnel before the Coccau alpine crossing. The van slowed to walking pace at the crossing but the border control appeared unmanned and they sailed through without stopping. Colby urged the BMW past the van and they continued down through Italy to Udine. They had made excellent time across the well maintained autobahns but it was now well into the afternoon and they were both desperate for a comfort stop and maybe some lunch.

  At the Piazza Matteotti they grabbed a table under a billowing white canopy and ate genuine Italian pizza. The town had once been part of the Austrian empire and Colby felt a hint of old Vienna still clinging to the town's atmosphere. There was also a memory of Venice in the architecture, the city that had ruled here for almost 400 years. He looked across at the other tables, no armed assassins, no old ladies with spiked umbrellas poised. He was not surprised as Udine would not normally be a town to cross on the route from Dubrovnik. Just three days since they had left there yet it seemed to belong to a different time. His satphone had been constantly silent since he had last talked to Jane at Equis. He felt the need to keep her up to date with their progress and called Jane on her private number.

  "It's Colby... Just to keep you up to date Jane."

  "I'm all ears."

  "So... I have a scheduled meeting at the Saint Anna Cemetery in Trieste early tomorrow where we should get more information on the route they want us to take."

  "OK... Is everything as it should be? You sound a little tense."

  "Yes, it's just that the meeting makes us vulnerable to anyone who might be listening in."

  "Is anyone listening in?"

  "They tell me not... In fact I've had no direct communication with anyone from the Sachovian Government since Dubrovnik."

  "Weren't you supposed to be sending them your position on a regular basis."

  "I have been, but it's just a stream of data, one way communication... I don't even get conformation that my signals are being received."

  "I'm sure you'd hear about it if they weren't Colby... Anything else?"

  "No... I guess I just wanted to hear a friendly voice."

  Jane laughed.

  "Don't think I've ever been described that way before. Actually I'm expected at a meeting so I really have to go, thanks for the update. This will soon be over Colby, I look forward to seeing you back home... And Colby, just keep yourself safe."

  Colby carefully put the Satphone away, his eyes caught Natasha's as she lifted her head. "You OK?" He asked.

  "I guess." She said with little conviction, her face sad and pale.

  Colby wondered: He wondered why he was doing this to the girl. He wondered why he had not insisted on getting a contact number for Valentina. He wondered why she seemed to have cut him off completely. He really needed to hear her voice before he started to forget how she sounded, Was it was the voice of an angel?... Or a demon?

  Trieste was little more than an hour away now but he had planned to arrive under the cover of darkness. His instructions were impenetrably vague requiring him just to be in the carpark of the Cimitero Cattolico di Sant Anna off Via Flavia at dawn the next morning. The cemetery was marked on the map they had given him with a blotch of red ink which seemed somewhat ominous to Colby's jaded eyes. They were supposed to wait in the carpark, it might be some time, but he would be contacted. Was the contact to be in person or by his satphone? Maybe carrier pigeon. Nothing was disclosed. It almost felt like some devilish trap was being set for them. More details... He needed more details. There were none and no one to ask.

  He sipped at his iced coke and pondered the best course of action. He should really have had this all worked out long ago and felt annoyed at himself for his procrastination.

  "You look worried." Natasha had hardly taken her eyes from him since they had left the bike on the hill by the photographer's shop and meandered into the square.

  "Not worried... just thoughtful. Did Valentina tell you anything about the contact we are supposed to make in Trieste?"

  "No... I don't think she wanted to burden me with details." She gave him a look of guileful shyness.

  "What?" Colby said.

  "Well... I did sort of overhear something." Colby nodded and waited for her explanation to come of its own accord. "She was talking to Andrej, he was asking about our route. She said we would be contacted at the Cimitero." Natasha played with her drinking straw swirling it through the foam on her strawberry milkshake. She lifted her eyes to him again. "I think we are to get new passports under different names... It's all I really heard."

  "So Valentina actually told Andrej that we would be waiting at the Cimitero tomorrow morning."

  "I think he sort of wheedled... is that the word?"

  "Could be."Colby said.

  "I think he wheedled it out of her, is that a pr
oblem?"

  "Not if you think that Andrej is one of the good guys."

  "You don't think he is?"

  "Let's say I have less confidence in him than Valentina probably did when she spoke to him."

  "I'm not committed to the monarchists cause either, does that make you distrust me? Am I one of the good guys"

  Colby laughed. "I've always known about your feelings you're honest about them... and I'm sorry this is happening to you Natasha... But no I don't distrust you, your definitely one of the good guys."

  "But does this mean we might be unsafe if Andrej knows too much."

  "Natasha, Camille... whatever they are going to call you next, we haven't been safe since we left Ikinos." He had the sudden urge to reach across the table and hug her but remained stoic; principal number one, close protection handbook: Allow no emotional attachment to develop with your client. He had tied the principal tight with a sequence of devilish knots but now could feel the inevitable slip of the first knot as it fell apart.

  Natasha finished her milk, as much of it's sickly sweetness as she could stomach. "And what about you Colby Linden... are you one of the good guys?"

  "That depends on your perspective... What do you think?"

  Elbows on the table her chin supported in cupped hands, she made a show of examining his face with her searching eyes.

  "I've met worse." She said.

  They walked back to the BMW and filled the tank at the self service Eni petrol station.

  "OK this is what we are going to do, we'll ride down close to Trieste and find somewhere to camp overnight. Maybe a secluded beach. Then we'll present ourselves at the infamous Cimitero Cattolico di Sant Anna and see what fate has in store for us.

  "We could catch a plane to Nice, it's very pleasant this time of year. Or I could show you the cottage that Gregori rented in the Camargue, or show you the house I was born in. I could show you where I used to be happy."

  Colby smiled indulgently. "OK we'll keep that in reserve as plan B just in case this current farce doesn't work out."

  They rode down towards Trieste, jostling mostly successfully with the Italian traffic. With little difficulty they found a secluded beach within sight of the Castello di Miramare. The sea looked inviting in the maturing afternoon sun so they found some shops nearby and bought bathing suits and towels, some sandwiches and fruit and returned to the beach. They swam in the shallows, the water colder than they had expected as they frolicked like a father and daughter might and tried to put the imminent future out of their minds. Colby was well aware of how vulnerable they were to an attack while splashing in the cool waters of the Adriatic but reasoned that no one could possibly know where they were... That would not occur until tomorrow morning at the cemetery.

  As night fell and the last of the beach-goers disappeared with their umbrellas and folding chairs, they pitched the little tent out of sight of the road behind a wall of storm-lifted boulders. The night sky was unusually clear and they looked up in wonder at the stars that hung above the blackness of the sea. The sound of the waves crashing on the beach peaceful and hypnotic. They stood on the sand looking out across the dark water.

  "Which direction is Sachovia?" Natasha said with a voice so soft that Colby could hardly hear her. Without consulting a map Colby could not really tell; he pointed vaguely out into the open water.

  "It's over there under that cluster of stars." He said with false conviction. Natasha lifted her head and seemed to sniff the air to see if she could scent her ancestral country, the spices that Katrina used in her native cooking, the sweet fragrance of the famous Sachovian freesias carried on the cool air. She could smell neither, just the acrid scent of death. Her eyes glistened wet under the moonlight.

  ...

  Aboard the Midnight Falcon Valentina was halfway through her journey back to Ikinos. The wind, fresh in the sails, drove the ketch across the dark ocean. She looked up at the same stars, her heart heavy with regret. No one could see her alone on the water and she had no need to hide her own tears.

  ...

  The little camp was packed away before the first glimmer of light appeared in the morning sky. A fresh day filled with newborn expectation for some, filled with naked dread for others. Colby rode the bike leisurely down the nearly deserted road into Trieste. He found the Via Flavia and rode slowly past the Cemetery. There was no one to be seen so he carried on into the industrial area and turned round. The streets were still empty filled only with a prescient silence. By the Euro Car sales showroom he stopped the bike and lifted his visor. He twisted back to his passenger. "Natasha, I want you to stay here by the showroom while I make the rendezvous." Under the lights of the showroom window Natasha's face showed sudden consternation.

  "No, don't leave me on my own."

  "As soon as I've got our instructions, I'll be back for you. There's no need to worry."

  "And if it's a trap?"

  Colby took a deep breath. "If it's a trap then you'll be safe here and I'll have a better chance of dealing with any trouble on my own."

  "But if anything happens to you, what will I do?" She started to cry and as he turned his head back to her Colby could see the terror in her eyes. "Please don't leave me... I'd rather take my chances with you than be left alone."

  Colby's idea had been carefully calculated. The meeting at the Cimitero Cattolico di Sant Anna represent the biggest danger so far in their journey. He considered it a risk too dangerous to expose Natasha to. He would leave her with the satphone, some money, her passport and a contact number for Equis. She was a resourceful girl and would be able to hide away in a hotel until Equis sent help. They could have someone with her within a day at most.

  That had been his plan, he had not taken into account that the prospect of being left alone in a foreign land with the possibility of assassins after her, might be too much for a thirteen year old girl to contemplate.

  "Please Colby... Everyone I have ever cared for has abandoned me in one way or another." Her brimming spaniel eyes cracked his heart as she pleaded to stay with him.

  "OK, OK... This goes against everything I have learned Natasha but we'll stick together. She wrapped her arms round the soft leather of his jacket and hugged him tightly and Colby felt another knot of principal number one fall loose.

  They cruised back to the cemetery as the first shafts of daylight woke the slumbering sky. They waited half an hour and saw nothing but the slow start of commuter traffic edging reluctantly along the Via Flavia. Another quarter of an hour passed and then a woman in a headscarf, carrying a large bunch of flowers, walked towards the cemetery gate. The gates were still locked and she placed her flowers with infinite care against the gate railings. She stood for a moment with bowed head before turning away.

  Colby watched as the woman walked slowly towards them. There was something about the fact that she wore sunglasses that did not sit right with Colby and he turned on the BMW's ignition and held his finger over the starter in preparation for a rapid exit. He looked round, there was no one else in sight. The woman came closer, close enough to speak.

  "Just some flowers for my baby." She said.

  "I'm sorry." Colby said wondering why she had spoken in English. She wore a knitted jacket over a simple cotton dress. Over her shoulder hung a leather bag, large enough to hold something dangerous. Colby narrowed his eyes. There was a simple elegance to her, typical of the urban Italians who seem to have a sense of style written in their DNA. But she was not Italian, her voice was highlighted with the same accent as Valentina and Katrina.

  "When I've gone, why don't you look at the flowers?" She said. "You'll find what you need."

  She moved away, the exchange had taken just seconds, she might just have wished them a good morning instead of setting them off on the second leg of a momentous journey. Natasha looked back and caught the woman's eye. "The baby?..." She said shyly.

  "Yes... he sleeps in a tiny grave in Rubansk." She moved away a few more paces then turned back, removi
ng her sunglasses she sent Natasha a smile, so delicate that it might have been missed. "God bless you Princess." She said in a soft voice coloured by her own tragedy. And then she was gone into the quiet autumn day still mourning her war-lost child but with innocent hope for the future of Sachovia.