Chapter 25
Guernsey had woken to another calm autumn morning. The air was fresh and held the anticipation of a fine day; a day for Valentina to start the process of making Guernsey her home. There were financial arrangements to complete, the transfer of funds to her local account. She needed to establish a new identity divorced from the Gussev name. Then there was Mary and John Le Prevost at Le Moulin Farm who knew her as Valentina Gosling. She wanted to say hello and thank them for keeping an eye on the cottage and helping Katrina to get settled. She needed to buy some much needed furnishings for Apple cottage including the foldaway bed. Whether the cottage was to become her long term home was still undecided. It had been more than adequate for herself as a bolt-hole but with Katrina and possibly Natasha to consider it was starting to show its inadequacies... And if Colby should also agree to come... She put that thought on hold, deep in the wishful-thinking basket and set about her morning's duties. Yet hovering over her was still the troubling prospect of having to finally deal with Julia Klimentovà.
By mid afternoon all her immediate duties were satisfactorily completed and she sat in the cottage drinking tea and chatting to Katrina who was busily preparing food for the evening meal. Her mind inevitably turned to the Sachovian agent. Dealing with that young woman would not be something to take lightly. Despite her efforts to forget Julia her unseen presence had hung over her day, taking the edge from her contentment. It was more than just the threat she posed but that she had failed to heed the warning. Valentina had hoped to have left the world of violence behind her now. She had turned a new corner on her life, and whoever she might find to share it should be free of the dark stains of her past. Julia Klimentovà was a clear and present threat but as Valentina considered the situation she realized that what had happened was to be expected. If their roles were reversed then she would not have given up either. Some blind stubbornness was an almost essential quality of any successful player in the dangerous game that Julia Klimentovà still played and in which Valentina was an acknowledged exponent.
Despite avoiding being completely preoccupied by the inevitable confrontation, Valentina had kept watch for any trace that might betray Klimentovà's presence. She saw none but also knew that darkness was the time to expect the attack. She needed to bring her things up to the cottage from the Falcon and decided that this was best done in daylight. She made her way down to the cove and rowed the inflatable out to the ketch. It was while sorting through the things that she had managed to collect, that she came upon the GPS tracker. The discovery came as no real surprise but held a measure of annoyance for her failure to search earlier for what was something so obvious. At least it explained how she had been found so easily. Valentina destroyed the tracker with an angry crush of her heel but by now it was far too late.
Unlocking the secure strong box, she retrieved her Marakov, a menacing tool of trade that belonged to her dark past. She had hoped never to need it again and had intended destroying it. It had crossed her mind to let it slip overboard in mid-channel but she had somehow never quite got round to it. Recent events had forced her into reluctantly reconsidering her intention; maybe she would need to use it once more... Just once more. She tucked it into the band of her jeans where it could rest unseen. Also in the box was a small collection of tools of her trade which would need to be safely disposed of. What stopped her in her tracks was coming upon the ring that Colby had given her when their relationship had seemed something easy and natural. She sat in the stillness and held the ring in her fist. Then in an act that belonged nowhere in her usual repertoire, she made a wish on the simple gold band. A wish like a wide-eyed child might make on a shooting star as it flashed across the heavens.
The news of Boris Koch's death had reached her via the morning newspaper. The news had its own poignancy especially the way in which he had elected to meet his end, but his death was also a relief for Valentina and it did draw a veil over her betrayal of the government. Now that both Koch and Prochniak were dead, she seemed free to follow her dreams... If not for the one last encounter that she knew would inevitably end in tragedy in one way or another.
There was just one more load to collect from the ketch as Valentina rowed back to the beach. She had spent too long foraging among her belongings and the afternoon shadows were already drawing long. Katrina called down to her as she picked her way carefully up the narrow path.
"Is it too early to eat? I've got a little ahead of myself with the preparation."
Valentina looked up at her young friend; she had changed so much since her time on Ikinos. At her core she was the same young woman that Valentina had taken under her wing. But recently she had blossomed, put on weight and matured into something of enchanting beauty. Valentina fully understood why John had fallen for her so easily. She understood and approved, all that remained was for Katrina to acknowledge the truth that stared her in the face... that she was destined to become a farmer's wife. Valentina smiled to herself.
"No it's not too early..."She called back. "There's just one more load, I can do that after we've eaten."
Katrina had made a traditional Sachovian dish: Golabchi which consisted of cabbage rolls stuffed with meat, onion and spices. There was an apple cake cooked in the microwave to follow. Valentina was amazed at how she managed to prepare such good food with the minimal cooking facilities the cottage had to offer. The day had been busy for Valentina and a constant state of alertness had left her rather drained by the tension. She ate hungrily. "This is delicious, just like I remember from when I was a child. I can't remember when I last ate it."
"It turned out quite well." Katrina said.
"You'll make someone a good wife." Valentina said. "Sorry that sounds like such a cliché thing to say..."
"Yes it does..." Katrina replied with a smile that threatened to light up the room.
The apple cake was no less welcome and when they had finished eating, Valentina stood and stretched the knots from her back. She could see that darkness was not far away, her fingers involuntarily moved to where the Marakov still sat. It was alarming to feel the gun that she had concealed so naturally. She no longer wanted to be the sort of person who felt at ease around guns and explosives. However, at the same time, the feel of the gun was also a comfort. "I'll just slip back to the Falcon before it gets any darker and pick up that last load. It's amazing how much junk you can accumulate after just a few months."
"I'll come and help you row the dingy."
"No it's all right I'll only be twenty minutes, I'll be back before it's dark." Valentina pulled on her waterproof jacket against the evening chill and made her cautious way back down to the shingle beach where the inflatable waited. She just had a little canned food from the galley, her collection of books and the last of her bedding to bring back. As she rowed out across the still water towards the Falcon, Valentina looked up to the cliff. She almost expected to see Julia Klimentovà standing with a sniper rifle trained on her. There was no one there.
A day ago, Julia had traced the exact position of the ketch almost immediately after arriving on Guernsey. She had taken a hire car to the location under cover of darkness and had driven as close as possible to where she knew the ketch lay. She then walked the cliffs until she saw the Midnight Falcon looming white against the dark water. There appeared to be no one aboard but the little white cottage on the cliff top had seemed like a reasonable place where Valentina might be found. This proved to be the case... She would return the following evening with her weapon and complete her mission with as little fuss as possible.
Klimentovà had left her car fifty metres away from the cottage It rested under the shadow of a tall tree barely visible in the twilight. She was dressed in dark clothing and blended into the shadows as she made her way to the cottage. At the cottage she slipped over the wall, took hold of her silenced pistol and tapped at the door. Her plan was as audacious as it was simple. Valentina would be expecting an attack from the shadows not a frontal confrontation. Assassin's never knock at
your front door... They always lay in wait under your bed or in the back seat of your car or in a room with a telescopic view across the street. Use the unexpected, even if it seems too simple... It was what Valentina herself had advocated. Julia had learned from the master.
Katrina heard the tap at her door and looked up from the book she was reading. She checked her watch, not yet six even though it was already nearly dark. There was the slightest skip of excitement as she wondered if it might be John. As she opened the door there was a moment of surprise. Julia Klimentovà was poised to fire a single head-shot and then slip away unseen... It would have taken five seconds after the door was opened to complete her mission and she would be back on mainland Europe before the body was discovered. But there was a mutual realisation that the person at the door was not the one expected. The SSB agent acted first.
Katrina was hit forcefully between the eyes with the butt of the gun. Her head slapped back and her knees buckled but Julia caught her before it hit the floor, before there was any noise. She was inside the cottage, poised like a cat, gun drawn in anticipation but no one else was there. She quickly checked the remaining spaces of the cottage then retuning to the unconscious woman lifted her head. Katrina was already struggling back to an uneasy awareness.
"Where's Valentina?" Julia said. It was a voice that demanded an answer, the tone held the obvious threat of more violence to be administered without compassion or any concession to feelings of guilt.
Through the fog Katrina remembered Valentina telling her of the assassin sent by Koch. She tried to speak but her mouth would not work. There was a slap across her face and the question was repeated. Katrina struggled to focus her eyes. She saw the image of two faces which slowly came together to reveal a cruel expression.
"Who the hell..." Katrina managed to say before Julia had her in a choker hold. What little grip Katrina had on her senses was starting to fade again. She wanted to say I can't breathe, let me free and we can talk. But no words came. She was feeling the blackness creep over her... calling her to let go, to find sleep.
"Tell me where she is or I'll finish you now." Julia said. This was already turning into farce, she should be finished and gone by now. Her patience was at an end. She slapped Katrina again. The pain was lost into the darkness of growing unconsciousness. Katrina meant to give nothing away but her eyes turned toward the cove to where the Falcon lay at anchor. It was all Julia needed.
"On the boat..." She hissed. One more punch and Katrina lay still, limp like a wilted flower. Julia let her fall back and moved to the rear of the cottage. The moon had just risen, a pale unsmiling face hovering over the horizon. Julia could see the gate that led to the cliff top. She walked on without fear, driven by determination and growing anger. She saw the boat, the cabin's pale light in the growing darkness reflected on the water. With the sails furled the boat floated pale like a phantom might hover in the night. A shudder ran down Julia's back. It was just the chill of the wind she told herself. Valentina was no supernatural foe. She was as susceptible to a bullet as any other living creature.
Valentina had been on the point of returning when she saw the dark figure at the top of the cliff. The moment had finally arrived and with it a clarity of thought.
"Julia... Julia Klimentovà." she called. The sound of Valentina's voice made the agent suddenly freeze. The voice was strong, confident. The woman simply did not know fear Julia thought. She had considered herself also immune to that weakening force but now when faced with Valentina Gussev, she trembled. Her knees felt barely capable of holding her weight.
"Julia, we don't need to do this... Have you not heard the news... Koch is dead there is no longer any point to this."
"You're lying... Lying to save yourself."
"I am telling you the truth... the truth to save you. Listen to me Julia, I have no wish to kill you. Go home Julia don't waste your life on this." She slipped her Marakov from its hiding place. The old friend, the old enemy. Her fingers closed around the grip. "Don't make me do this..." She said again this time in a softer voice, almost to herself.
Julia was starting down the path her feet feeling carefully at each step for a firm foot hold. Valentina held up her gun. It flashed in the moonlight. "Do you know how many have fallen to this Marakov during the war Julia? Don't let it claim another life before I finally destroy it."
Julia continued edging down the path and Valentina with enormous regret took aim at her last enemy. She was an excellent shot and she knew the Marakov with an intimacy that would allow her to easily bring down Klimentovà even from this distance, even with the roll of the Falcon to allow for.
"Valentina... look out... " The words loud and shrill pierced the falling darkness like the scream of a night owl. It was Katrina who had struggled back from her oblivion to desperately warn her friend.
The sound of Katrina's voice hit Julia like a shock wave, in her state of high tension she twisted violently, her eyes turning up to the top of the cliff. Valentina aim was precise, she squeezed off her shot and Julia's gun was shot from her fingers. For an instant Julia was stunned, no one could shoot that well but there she stood disarmed with a single impossible shot by Valentina Gussev. All she had heard of her was true, she had never really believed it before... But the agent's sudden involuntary movement proved fatal. As she turned back to look at Katrina in astonishment, her balance was lost and she slipped half a metre on the loose rock and then as she twisted in the direction of the slide, she tipped forward. There was no longer anything she could do as she plunged in free fall. Valentina watched as the dark figure fell, bouncing against the cliff edge. There was no real scream just a snarl of desperation as Julia tried to save herself. Valentina could only hear the rattle of slipping gravel and the sickening sound of tender flesh against hard rock. Julia was already dead before her body landed with a thud against the jagged outcrop that ringed the shingle beach.
Valentina rowed back to the beach in a daze. She struggled past the tragic body up to the top of the cliff, her thoughts were focussed on Katrina. When Valentina found her she was on her knees trembling and pale, her face bloody but she managed a smile as Valentina sank down and held her. Finally Valentina led her back to the warmth of the cottage.
"What did she do to you Katrina?..."
"It's all right... I'm OK now."
Valentina sat her on the sofa and brought warm water and bathed her face. She had been lucky. Valentina realized that Katrina had been of no interest to Julia Klimentovà just an inconvenience to brush aside.
"Is she dead? I heard her fall."
"Yes... She could have turned away and gone home... back to her family."
"What do we do now?" Katrina said.
"Do you feel strong enough to help me?"
"Yes, what do you need?"
"I think it's time that I finally killed off Valentina Gussev..." She said with a crack of emotion in her voice.
Valentina collected a small bag of things she needed and with immense care they picked their way back down to the beach.
"This won't be pleasant Katrina but I need to dress her in my clothes."
"Ah I think I understand now..."
Together they re-dressed Julia, lifted her into the dingy and rowed back to the Falcon. With a huge effort they lifted the body up onto the gently rolling ketch. Valentina wrapped her own Sachovian passport into the folds of a heavy leather wallet and tucked it deep into the inside pocket of the jacket. Valentina slipped below deck to where there was access to the diesel tank. She eased the fuel feed connection until there was a steady drip of fuel. "I'm sorry old friend." She said in a whisper. The words were not for Julia Klimentovà, they were not for any living person but were for the Midnight Falcon that had one last sad mission to complete.
She found her way to the strong box and recovered the contents... A precious ring that she could never leave behind and a sealed container of things that no sane person would ever need. One of which was an incendiary device. She popped her head
back up to the deck.
"Get back in the dingy Katrina... I need to lower the foresail. Then I'll join you."
Valentina returned to the diesel tank, already the volatile fumes had gathered dangerously in the enclosed space. She set the timer on the incendiary fuse and lay it on the tank. With the foresail and the self steering set, Valentina finally slipped off the Falcon for the last time, her fingers reluctant to let go of the precious timbers. With an effort of will she released the mooring rope and already her eyes were flooded with tears, her vision blurred as she whispered a farewell to her pretty little ketch.
It was a falling tide and the Falcon, as if it knew what it must now do, eased away from the cove. The soft wind caught at the sail and drew the her out into deeper water. The self steering had been set to send the Falcon out close to the coast. Valentina let go of the rope that held the dingy to the ketch, then rowed back to the beach.
They stood silent as if at a funeral as the Falcon, hardly visible, eased away into the night. It marked an opportunity for Valentina to finally say goodbye to Sascha. She had no body to bury, no knowledge of where he lay but in her mind the Falcon would be his resting place. Through the blur of Valentina's tears there was a sudden burst of flame and the ketch was lit up as it took its final tragic journey. There was no holding the tears now as the Falcon grew smaller, sailing unmanned into the void of darkness. Katrina held her friend, she shared the pain of Valentina's loss. There were no words she could find to say but she thought of a Viking Funeral as the flames reached up and took the sail in a burst of fire. The ketch would be easily visible to anyone along the coast now.
"She was like a friend..." Valentina finally said. Then when it was about a mile off shore the Falcon was finally holed and slowly it sank into the black water. The flames were gone. The Midnight Falcon was gone and with it Valentina Gussev was also gone.
"She's sunk Katrina... I can hardly believe it... my dear Falcon." She sounded desolate as she took Katrina's arm.
The moon had risen higher in the clear sky and Katrina could see the silvery tears on Valentina's cheeks. Together they pulled the inflatable up above the high tide line and turned once more to the spot where the Falcon lay at rest. As they made their way back up to the cottage Valentina suddenly felt bereft as if her life no longer held any meaning for her. She needed Colby desperately and despite the wish she had made on his ring, he was still silent and angry, missing from her life.
The Midnight Falcon Page 25