Moment of Truth

by Emrys Apollo

  Stand up and take yourself inside, make a cup of tea, and turn the television on. You can have a shower after you’ve watched the news.

  Desmond stood bolt upright, spinning around, his eyes scanning the area he was stood in. Only someone who could see him could send that message. Only someone who could see him could know where he was; that he wasn’t in the house. There was no way this was just a good guess. Desmond’s eyes locked onto any sign of movement but it was just the wind blowing gently through the trees, creating a subtle dance in the leaves. He wiped his hand across his mouth, returning his attention to the phone.

  Why don’t you come out from hiding?

  Desmond sent the message with a shaky hand. It was a risky game to be playing, but it was worth a shot. If he could get a face-to-face conversation with one of the people who had taken Antony then he was more likely able to discover Antony’s location. It didn’t take long for a reply to come through.

  Inside. Tea. Television. This is not your game, Sharp.

  It was with a robot-like quality that Desmond fulfilled his instructions. He felt like his every move was being watched, even the MI6 detectives seemed to be keeping a closer eye on him than normal. He didn’t make eye contact with anyone, keeping his head down as he moved around and made himself a cup of tea. The few detectives stood in his kitchen gave him an odd look but neither of them said anything. They just carried on as if he wasn’t there.

  Trying to keep his hand holding the tea as still as possible, Desmond made his way through to the lounge. An unnerving feeling that someone else had been in here struck Desmond as soon as he stepped into the room. Something felt too set up as he moved towards the sofa. Had he left the remote there? Looking so deliberate in the way it sat on the sofa cushion? Or had the texts gotten under his skin? Was he just over thinking everything? Desmond sat on the seat that looked as though it might have been set up for him to sit in and collected up the remote. Placing the cup of tea in his lap, Desmond took a steadying breath. He knew what he was expecting; news reports on Antony Abascal being missing from the biggest trucking competition of the year. He was going to sit here and be lambasted with reports on how he had failed to protect his partner. Maybe they wouldn’t say it that directly but Desmond knew he would pull that from it. It was going to be reminder after reminder that he had failed to protect him; that he actually was missing.

  When he turned the television on, the cup of tea nearly went flying across the room as he shot to his feet.

  It was Antony. Antony was on the television, but not in the way Desmond had expected him to be. Someone must have been in here and set this up because Desmond had not left the television on the Sports channel. He was certain that that was not the last channel the television had been on. It screamed too perfectly that someone else had been in here and set this up. That was the idea. He was supposed to realize that they could still get in his house and fuck with him even though there were MI6 agents just in the other room. But that wasn’t what Desmond was fixated on.

  Antony was fine. Antony did not look like he had been kidnapped four days ago. Antony was sat in a press conference, surrounded by five other teammates, talking and laughing about the weekend’s competition.

  Tea sloshed onto the floor as the phone in Desmond’s pocket buzzed. He pulled it out, barely able to take his eyes off the calm, relaxed Antony, and opened up the text message.

  Now go and shower.

  What the hell was going on?

  CHAPTER 5

  “We agreed. No decoy.”

  “Agent Sharp, we have nothing to do with this.” Henson stressed for what must have been the seventh time. “That isn’t a decoy.”

  “You expect me to really believe that they just let him go?” Desmond glared across the table. The other agents in the meeting had gone quiet. If there was any silver lining behind Antony’s sudden appearance at the competition it was that it seemed to have installed a motive to get the investigation back underway.

  “I highly doubt they let him go or that he escaped.” Bowse said, his voice coming from the laptop, once again, set up in front of Henson. Desmond folded his arms tightly. “You think if they let him go or he escaped the first place he’d go was to a competition? And not back here?”

  “Then how the hell do you explain what the fuck he’s doing there?” Desmond spat, sitting forwards, anger flowing from every word.

  “It is clear that our captives do not want the world knowing he’s gone missing either. This is an entirely personal matter; the public would be an unwanted distraction.”

  “Glad we cleared that up.” Desmond shot sarcastically.

  “Let’s not get off topic,” Henson said, beginning to pace. “The bottom line is this: for the first time since this investigation started we know the whereabouts of Antony Abascal-”

  “So we’re putting a team together and heading over there right now to get him back.” Desmond nodded, feeling like finally things were going his way. Henson stopped pacing, looking over at Desmond with a bored expression.

  “You don’t think that is exactly what they think we’re going to do?” Henson asked, as if Desmond was a naïve child. Desmond set his jaw. “No. The last thing we’re doing now is a rescue mission.”

  “That’s fucking!”

  “It’s a set up, Sharp. We don’t want them thinking we’re playing their game.” Henson said, speaking loud so his voice overpowered Desmond’s. Desmond slumped back in his chair, huffing in frustration. “However,” Henson resumed his pacing, his eyes flicking off of Desmond as he picked up his movement. “We can’t just sit here and let this opportunity slip out of our hands. This could be our once chance to get a lead on where Antony is being held captive.”

  “So we are going out there?” Desmond asked, sitting up. It was confusing and contradicting but at least he wasn’t going to have to sit and stew in this house any longer. His body ached to be out there doing something. Plus, being on the arena was Desmond’s best chance at managing to get Antony back and away from the kidnappers.

  Henson continued to talk as if Desmond hadn’t interrupted.

  “Carnegie; I want you on the arena. You’re going within the team to find out the exact situation Antony is being held in. I want to know where he goes when he’s not on camera and I want to know whom he’s with. At all times. The arrangements have been set up for you.” Stuart nodded, picking up the envelope that Henson had slid across the desk to him. As soon as the document was in his hands he was on his feet, heading out of the room. Excitement buzzed through Desmond; this was happening. The stillness was broken and now the team was getting to work.

  “Barnett; you’re on surveillance.” Henson continued, sliding the next envelope to Jody. “I want to know what vehicles leave that arena and where they’re going. If someone leaves on foot I want to know about it. You’ll be based just outside so if you need to intervene you’re on hand.”

  “Yes, Sir.” Jody nodded, also getting to his feet and leaving the room. Desmond sat forwards in anticipation. This certainly sounded like a rescue mission even if Henson was saying it wasn’t. That gave Desmond more hope that he could manipulate the situation and get Antony back before the weekend was over.

  “May,” Henson said, stepping back behind his briefcase. “You are staying here to supervise Agent Sharp.” The smile fell off Desmond’s face in time with the snap on the lock of Henson’s briefcase.

  “What?” Desmond yelled, getting to his feet as Henson started to pack away. “I’m not going?”

  “No. You’re not.” Henson said, closing down the laptop that connected them to Bowse.

  “Why not?”

  “You are way too close to this and your track record shows you will definitely compromise this mission.”

  “Why the hell have you put me on this team if you won’t let me get involved?” Desmond roared, moving around the table towards Henson. Kendrick stood up, blocking Desmond’s path with a gentle hand on his chest.

  “You ar
e the asset, Sharp. We need you on this team so we know what the captives are doing. If it wasn’t for you we wouldn’t have got the tip off about the news.” Henson handed Desmond a device that would alert the team if any activity happened on Desmond’s phone. Desmond frowned at it as he read a message he had never seen before in his life.

  From: Unknown

  To: Sharp, Desmond

  Message: You might want to check the news…

  Of course it made sense why the captives had sent a duplicate message to the phone they knew was being traced. If Desmond’s real phone was on radio silence but he kept giving all this information and clues about Antony the Motorola would become common knowledge very quickly. The kidnappers were playing the MI6 at their own game.

  “They don’t know we’re coming but they will expect you. I’m sorry, but I have to side-line you on this one.” The supportive hand that Henson squeezed on Desmond’s shoulder felt like anything but the compassion it was supposed to. “We will give you every update and complete access to any information we gather.” Passing Desmond the laptop he had been using to connect Bowse to the meeting, Henson left the room. Desmond’s grip on the laptop tightened as he heard the front door snap shut. After everything he’d been through in the last few days and still he was stuck in this fucking house. At least the investigation had now cleared off. It was just going to be Kendrick and him.

  “Fancy a cup of tea?” The Dane asked, his voice a little quieter than usual. Desmond closed his eyes, trying to take a calming breath.

  “I’m going for a run.” Desmond shot, slamming the laptop on the table and heading towards the front door. Kendrick was hot on his heels.

  “Ok, I’ll come-”

  “No.” Desmond spat, pulling his trainers out of the cupboard and pushing his feet into them. Kendrick folded his arms.

  “You know I’m not allowed to let you go out on your own.”

  “I’m going for a run, Kendrick, not an escape mission.” Desmond pushed to his feet, opening the door. “Trust me.” He didn’t give Kendrick a chance to respond as he slammed the door in his face. Knowing the young agent would most definitely follow him out of the house, Desmond took a different route than usual, following the path a little way into the trees that he usually ran down before taking off of the path and deep into the greenery. He sat crouched in the bushes for fifteen minutes before he was confident if Kendrick had followed him he would be on the wrong trail now.

  Desmond walked deeper into the forest to be safe and make sure he wasn’t being followed. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets as he scuffed his feet on the floor. Why couldn’t Henson have just based him with Jody? Put him on the surveillance team? Jody could have made sure he didn’t go anywhere and then at least Desmond could feel like he was accomplishing something. Right now he just felt like a victim who was sitting around and waiting for his partner to be returned. Like sitting around and waiting ever worked.

  It wasn’t fair. Desmond just wanted to help and now he was being punished because he was too close to Antony. He just wanted the man back. Sure, he was desperate, and yes, looking at the situation from outside his perspective he would be seen as a liability on the team, but he couldn’t stand sitting around and just waiting . He needed to do something.

  Desmond took a seat in the middle of the forest floor, feeling too raw and too emotional to carry on. He pulled the Motorola out of his pocket, flipping it open and looking at the picture of Antony that had been set as the background. How had he got this so wrong? How had his life come to this? Wanting to help and being trained and best equipped to help but being side lined? He’d never been side lined in his life. For the first time ever he was being asked to sit out of the one mission he would have given everything to be a part of.

  Desmond had to dry his eyes to clear his vision as a message alert blocked the picture of Antony. Just what he needed after being given a baby sitter for the weekend. It was probably a torment.

  Should we leave this waiting for you?

  Desmond wanted to throw the phone across the forest as the Bluetooth image downloaded to reveal a picture of a pass. Of course it was a set up. Of course they were certain Desmond was going to be there. What would be the point of giving him access to Antony though? Were they really going to let Desmond get anywhere close to him? No. Of course they weren’t. It was just another way to torture him.

  Not coming out.

  Desmond hit send without really thinking about it. He didn’t want this constant abuse for the next three days. He’d barely pressed send when another message came through.

  Found something more important to do with your time? He really mean that little to you?

  Anger pounded in Desmond’s head, not allowing him to think straight. His fingers were manipulating the phone based on that anger along and before he knew it he’d pressed the phone to his ear, the dull sound of ringing emitting form it. His breathing was heavy as he sat listening to it ring, each duo tone convincing him more and more it was going to ring through.

  “You were not asked to call.”

  “Got bored of texting.” Desmond sent hotly. A quiet chuckle emitted from the other end of the line.

  “Well, now you have me…” The statement was left open, inviting Desmond to say whatever it was he had called to say. Problem was, Desmond didn’t know what he wanted to say.

  “Put him on the phone.” Desmond demanded. It went silent for a little while.

  “He’s very busy with media commitments at the moment…”

  “Bullshit. I don’t know what you’ve done to him to make him appear so calm but I want you to stop.”

  “I do hope there are no surprises on their way to meet us here.” The voice on the phone said. Desmond frowned. “I do hate surprises.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, mate.”

  “It appears you had a meeting this morning with your precious Storming, as predicted of course.”

  “Don’t you think if there were any surprises planned I’d be front running the thing?” Desmond gritted.

  “So I shouldn’t see any random agents snooping around.”

  “I would doubt that.”

  “And any I do…Well, I supposed if they’re not with you they can be… Disposed of?” Desmond’s thought shot to Stuart. But he was an experienced agent; it would have been set up so he couldn’t be detected. Only a slip up would reveal who he really was. Stuart could take care of himself, plus telling the kidnappers that there was a party of agents snooping around could compromise their mission. “No?”

  “What you do with whatever you find has nothing to do with me.”

  “That’s good to know.” Desmond could hear the smirk in the voice. “Now, please excuse me. Antony needs to get onto his next commitment.” The line went dead before Desmond could say anything else. He knew it would be pointless calling the number that was sending the messages; if the number wasn’t changing every couple of hours they definitely wouldn’t answer another call to him. It had been a whimsical break from the rules of the game, but now more than ever they would be executed with caution. Desmond snapped the phone shut and got to his feet, starting a slow walk back to his house.

  - - -

  It took Desmond just watching one free practice session and seeing Antony sat around in the garage to decide he was disobeying orders. He couldn’t sit here as if this were normal. He couldn’t just wait and see what Jody and Stuart reported back. Desmond refused to play the victim any more. He was a trained and one of the best secret agents on the field. He would not be side lined from the only mission he cared about. He didn’t care how predicable his actions were.

  He was going and no one was going to stop him.

  “Where are you off to?” Kendrick asked as Desmond got to his feet. Desmond rolled his eyes.

  “I can’t use the pisser without the third degree now?” A faint blush hit Kendrick’s cheeks.

  “No, sorry…”

  “I’m using the toilet i
n my room if you need to be told that too. That’s the third door on the right upstairs. Is that okay or do you want a description of what I’ll be doing in there?”

  “No, no, that’s fine.” Kendrick said; his eyes glued to the television. Desmond let a small smile drift onto his face as he left the room, taking two steps at a time moving towards his bedroom. Once inside, he closed the door, propping a chair behind the door handle so that the door couldn’t be opened. He knew he had a limited amount of time before Kendrick came up wondering what he was doing. That should be enough time to get him set to go.

  Desmond always had an emergency bag stashed under the bed with all the essentials in it. He didn’t know how long this was going to take him, so throwing a random assortment of clothes in the bag Desmond started packing quickly. Any weapons he would possibly need were already stashed in the emergency duffle bag so all he had to think about packing were some clothes. For good measure, Desmond threw some of Antony clothes into his bag as well; they could come in handy as a disguise, plus it made Desmond feel calmer to know he had something of Antony’s on him. Also, if he managed to get the man back at least he would have something he could dress in.

  Desmond was copying some important numbers off his iPhone into a notepad when the expected knock on the door came.

  “Desmond?”

  “For fuck sake, Kendrick…” Desmond sighed, double-checking the last number he wrote in the notepad.

  “You’ve been up here a while…” Kendrick said. Desmond knew he would try the door handle imminently. If Kendrick discovered Desmond had locked him out he was going to be busted.

  “I’m having a shit, Kendrick.” Desmond gritted, closing up the notebook and dropping it in the top of his bag. He left his iPhone on the bedside table and double-checked the Motorola was still in his pocket.

  “Oh…”

  “I’ll be down soon. Can you just give me some peace?”

  “Yeah… Sorry…” Desmond waited to hear the telltale squeak of the second-to-last step before he zipped up the duffle bag. Throwing it over his back, he moved towards the window and threw it open. Whatever he had now would have to do; he’d maybe brought himself another twenty minutes but he wanted to use every second of that time getting a head start on Kendrick. It wasn’t going to be difficult to work out where Desmond was headed but at least if he had a head start he would have more time to disappear in the crowd and be harder to detect.