The Lynx Assassin (The Society Book 2)

by Karen Guyler

  She was a few steps away from the door when it opened inwards.

  Eva sprinted to the back wall behind it. Pulled her hood up.

  The tension she could feel down her ear in the jet at Tallinn airport and at S in London was worse than what she felt in the room.

  Steady.

  Focus.

  She aimed at whoever was coming in.

  As the door swung out of the way, Eva fired.

  Carl Rubin wasn’t wearing a coat. He stumbled into the room, the tranquilliser dart she’d fired at him lodged in his back. He twisted round, his hand reaching for it.

  Eva pushed herself against the wall, lowering her head in her coat hood. The lynx had dropped after just a couple of seconds, would it work as quickly on a human? Rubin took a step towards her.

  She held the gun up and fired again at his legs this time. She hit him in the thigh. He bent down to pull it out. She dropped the tranquilliser gun and held her Glock on him. Go down, go down, she begged him silently.

  He stumbled, keeled over, dropped right in front of her. Eva let out her breath. Her hands were clammy, the Glock slipping in her grip.

  “Rubin’s down,” Perfect karma with the same drug that knocked out his lynx. “He didn’t see me, I’m pretty sure.”

  “Get out of there.”

  “No sign of a laptop?” Iago still sounded hopeful.

  “Not on him, it must be locked away.”

  “You’ve fulfilled the brief, leave.” Luke said.

  Finch probably wasn’t far behind and Eva was out of darts. She wiped her hands on her trousers, holstered her Glock, pocketed the tranquilliser gun.

  “Iago,” she whispered, “are you hearing me through the bugs?”

  “Confirm, ears are active.”

  “Ears?” Luke asked.

  “Yeah, bugs is a ridiculous name for them. What do they do? Listen, so, ears.”

  She closed the office door, her hand hovering over her holster she pushed open the door to the lounge. The clinking of a stirrer against glass surprised her, Rubin’s assistant mixing a drink. No sign of Finch.

  Eva strode to the exit, muttering. “I’ll have to get a team mobilised, it’s worse than I thought.”

  “What’s worse?” Marai looked like Eva was holding the gun on her.

  “Everything. Your boss is not a happy man, I’d let him cool down for a bit, if I were you.”

  “But—”

  “I’d also drink that, in my bedroom, away from everyone else for a while, let emotions settle.”

  The assistant swirled the liquid around the side of the glass, definitely considering it.

  “I’ll note in my report how helpful you were.” Eva threw a farewell gesture at her as she strode out of the door and onto the foredeck. Thank God, the gangplank was still in place.

  On the jetty, Eva power walked to the steel gate, locked it behind her and, away from the spotlight of the Overwatch’s security lights, she ran.

  33

  Rubin opened his eyes. He was on his bed, looking up at the ceiling. He patted himself down, nothing hurt except his head. No bandages, so no injury. What had his assailant been after? He got up, putting a hand out to steady himself, but the wall was too far away. He lurched to the side, stumbled onto all fours, nothing to do with the barely noticeable movement of the yacht. But lying there wouldn’t help him find what the intruder had taken. He dragged himself to the door, gripping the polished railings for use in rough weather like he was an old man.

  Inside his office, the only thing different was the slim dart on his desk. He turned it over in his hand, nothing on it to say anything.

  No attempts appeared to have been made to get into his desk, but he checked inside the fingerprint activated drawers anyway. Still there, his laptop, his sat phones, the notes he’d been working on earlier.

  He pressed the intercom and called Sean Finch to his office. He gestured at the walls as Finch came in the door.

  “Already done.” Finch confirmed. “Nothing.”

  “Do it again.”

  He watched him wand everything with no response from the sweeping device.

  “What happened, Sean? What if I hadn’t disturbed the intruder before they’d done what they came for?”

  “You want to fire the staff?”

  Of course he did. He hated incompetence. How could he do what he did if they couldn’t be counted on to be on their best game at all times?

  “Get Marai in here.”

  His assistant walked in confidently enough.

  “Harbourmaster’s deputy, you say? Doing a compliance check?” He frowned at her. “Didn’t that sound the slightest bit suspect to you, at this time of night?”

  She shook her head. “No, Sir, she had the key to the gate, she seemed very official.”

  She? Interesting.

  “Was she caught on the CCTV?”

  “I’ll check, Sir. Do you need me to call a doctor?”

  “I need everyone to do their jobs, is what I need. Get me some painkillers for my headache. Where else did she go?”

  “Only the salon.” Rubin nodded at Finch but he was already halfway out of the room to go and wand it.

  The sat phone he gave to clients interrupted. He dismissed Marai with a wave of his hand.

  “What is this?” The caller’s words were staccato, spoken beneath a fury barely contained within an icy righteousness. “You are an amateur. This is no good to me, this weapon.”

  “What makes you say that?” Rubin asked.

  She made a noise that could universally be translated as ‘are you an idiot’? “Your test failed is what.”

  He held the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “The Lynx Assassin is good, the humans using it are the problem.”

  “I do not want excuses. I must be 100% certain you can deliver what you promise, my life will be on the line.”

  “As was mine when I shot my partner, I was standing right beside him, proving that the technology works. The person delivering the RFID tags in St Petersburg didn’t follow instructions. He was specifically tasked with picking out random members to equate to half the group, but it looks like he touched everyone. I will need to verify this but, from the data I have, the weapon functioned perfectly, the bullets followed the electronic signal, as they are designed to do. The speed of assassination will tax the authorities but there’s no evidence for them to get even close to what happened.”

  “There are no authorities to concern me. What does is that I and my husband remain safe.”

  “I can assure—”

  “How do I know your weapon will target all the different tagged individuals, and not just pick the first RFID cluster? It is also no good to me if it leaves others standing. I will be more at risk.”

  “Let me show you,” Rubin soothed. “I can prove it with a large-scale test.”

  “When?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  She paused, one beat, two. Rubin waited. “It will take much to convince me.” She finally said. “I’m not in the habit of gambling with my life.”

  “I’m not a gambling man, either. I deal in actualities and reality. The Lynx Assassin is what you need.”

  He could hear the line was open between them, but he let her think. He may not have met her but to accomplish what she had, what she did every day, operating as she did, he could appreciate however she chose to work.

  “If this additional test is not a success—”

  “I have other weapons coming online, equally as revolutionary. You may have your choice of them but I believe the specific technology of the lynx is most suited to your requirements. I have, and I did, stake my life on it. The method of delivery is critical, if you’re delivering it, there’ll be no mistakes, will there?”

  “I need to see the test in real time.”

  “Of course, my people will message you.”

  “How many casualties do you anticipate?”

  “How about a thousand, amongst a crowd of ten
thousand plus?”

  It didn’t sound nearly high enough, nearly fast enough. There is no planet B, it determined everything he did. He would rather take out the entire audience, but that wouldn’t confirm the weapon’s worth to his client. If he’d thought she’d respond to the money angle, he’d have pointed out that he wouldn’t do anything to jeopardise her payment. He had a lifestyle to maintain, hefty research and development obligations. Her paying him the highest amount he’d ever received for one weapon was almost as attractive as the fact that she was unwittingly helping him pursue his wider, most personal agenda.

  “The numbers are unimportant. What concerns me is the efficacy of the weapon.”

  “This new test will convince you beyond any doubt.”

  “If it does not, our business is concluded.”

  “Let’s talk again afterwards.” But she’d already hung up.

  The tech stood up, the imbecile he’d paid to distribute the tags was to blame for the failure.

  He went in search of Finch. The clanking of pans and utensils beckoned him into the galley. The heat and sharp tang of citrus were a welcome balm.

  “You want some?” Finch gestured at the wok to which he was adding soy sauce. “Wild salmon, I’ve made plenty.”

  Rubin nodded. Finch took out two trays to carry the dishes of food through into the dining room.

  “Let’s eat in here.” Rubin preferred the more cosy feel of the small dining table behind him. Another area of the Overwatch he’d upgraded. More like a kitchen in a mansion now than a clinical ship’s galley, the extortionate price tag had been an easy sell for the rep.

  “You want a sake?” Finch asked.

  Rubin was about to say no, he had no idea what had been in the tranquilliser dart. But thwarting an enemy, that was worthy of a celebration. And his work today in soothing two problematic clients more so. Particularly as Tarik would be doing more than testing a new weapon when he followed Rubin’s pointed suggestions, another furthering of his agenda.

  “Cognac for me.”

  When Finch returned with the drinks, they toasted the day.

  “Next stage.”

  Rubin forked the food into his mouth. The satisfaction of the sharp flavours, the warming bonhomie of the cognac eased his worries, untensing his shoulders and neck.

  “I should sack the chef,” Rubin laid his fork down on his empty plate, “have you make the food every day.”

  “You could but I can’t make his tiramisu.” Finch offered Rubin a second helping.

  He shook his head. “Dessert for me. Change in plans. Do you have anyone around here you can entrust with a delicate task?”

  Finch scooped the remainder of the food onto his plate. “Depends what it is.”

  “The cruise ship employee who was supposed to select the targets is helping police with their enquiries. I forget his name but we need him disposed of, immediately.”

  Even the promise of the rest of his very generous fee, to be given to his family in case of his unfortunate demise, wouldn’t be enough to keep his lips together once the state police took an interest in him. Rubin had to tie up that loose end.

  “I’ll get it done.” Finch confirmed, bringing a large tiramisu from the fridge over to the table.

  Rubin considered, Marai was last on his list to ask, his Executive Assistant in Norway too connected to him. He called one of the techs from Balancia.

  “Patron, what do you need?”

  “Get me a subtle way into London for myself and Sean Finch as soon as possible, with a loud trail leading somewhere else.”

  “Any preference where?”

  Rubin considered for a moment. “No, as long as you can tie in the official travel plans for us to be in London in two days for the contract signing with the British government.”

  “Consider it done, I’ll send it to you in the usual way.”

  Rubin disconnected, took the bowl, nodding approval at the portion size. “I’ve been waiting all day for this.”

  34

  When the jet landed at Farnborough, a reception committee was waiting for Eva and Luke.

  “Standard procedure when we’re carrying fallen heroes.” Luke told her. “We join the vanguard.”

  When she opened the door, the rain was falling in stair rods lit up by the airfield’s arc lights but it felt noticeably warmer than in Tallinn.

  The ranking officer saluted Luke and Eva as they disembarked. Should she do it back? She did as Luke did, though he had one arm in a sling, and kept her hands by her side.

  She followed him past the saluting soldiers, four in a ‘v’ shape from the plane door, a whole gaggle of them by the hold.

  When the coffins were lifted out, she bowed her head. I’m so sorry. We’ll get him. I promise you, her prayer to Fisher and Jacob, Rubin will face justice.

  The ranking officer was calling out movements to his troops and, far too practiced at it, they loaded the Union Jack-draped coffins into two hearses that pulled up almost silently. Another salute as the hearses left and the soldiers wheeled away and marched off, their boots sounding like one heavy set of footprints.

  “That’s us.” Luke nodded at the sole car left airside. “We’ll be taking the kit too.”

  Once the hearses had reached a respectable distance, their car, a big black thing that looked as if it normally transported dignitaries, pulled up close to the plane.

  “You get in,” Eva said. “You kind of need two hands for this.”

  “Not gonna argue.”

  “Everything from the hold?”

  “Everything.”

  She and the driver loaded the boot of the car with the black grip bags that Eva knew contained the weaponry they’d collected from Rubin’s outbuildings. Most of them needed both of them to lift them in. Guns weighed heavy.

  The last two bags had to go in the front seat and passenger footwell.

  Eva leant into the car.

  “The flight crew?”

  “They have their own arrangements.” Luke said. “We’re going back to base to sign this lot in.”

  Eva shook rain out of her hood before she took her coat off and got in.

  “Okay?” Luke asked.

  Not okay. She fussed with the seatbelt as a distraction, folding her coat in on itself, limiting the amount of rain that ran off its waterproofing, directing the stream onto the floor mats. The harsh reality of what this job meant had driven away in front of them. Two families, two partners, maybe two sets of children, parents, friends, two worlds turned upside down. Two sets of possibilities of life plans, of goals, of potential, turned to dust in the bloody snow of a criminal’s lair.

  Eva leant her head on the backrest. She could imagine a similar scenario being played out in a warmer climate, wherever the hostile men had come from as families there tried to deal with their losses. The wages of man’s inhumanity to man.

  “Talk to me.” Luke said after a while.

  She gestured at the driver.

  “Official drivers have clearance for run-of-the-mill stuff, no specifics, but we can do this.” Luke pressed a button on the console between them and a partition slid up from the back of the front seats. “What’s on your mind?”

  “Is it always hard?”

  “No, it’s usually impossible. What we do, it takes a certain type of person. You worried you’re not that type?”

  “I’m thinking of Lily.” Luke didn’t say anything, and into the silence poured Eva’s real worry. “What if I’d been standing outside when the explosion was triggered? It would have been me in one of those coffins, and where would that leave her? She’d have no one.” Eva’s words whispered to nothing. She couldn’t voice the rest of it, it was too painful, too raw, even now. Twenty-five years since her father had come home in a flag-draped coffin and she still struggled with it.

  “It has to be your choice.” Luke finally said. “I don’t think you should ever be comfortable with what we have to do. But I think you should be able to make peace with it.”
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  “How long have you been doing this?”

  “I’ve been in Six my whole life, they recruited me at university.”

  “What did you study?”

  “Engineering, until Six approached me, then it got boring because they’d opened my eyes, so I dropped out and embraced this life.”

  “Why do you do it?”

  “That’s a good question.” Luke tried for a laugh. “Be a lot easier to answer if there was a drinks cabinet in here.”

  “You don’t have—”

  “It started off as revenge for my partner’s death, you know that, an impossible challenge to bring The Society down. And once we did that, it just seemed an opportunity we couldn’t pass up to do some real good, where we’ve always worked in the shadows. None of us go into this looking for fame and glory, well, maybe the glory bit. I’m good at it, turns out I can be a bastard, if I have to. It serves me well. I like that I’m cleaning up the streets, to use a really corny Hollywood line.”

  On paper, it was noble. In reality it was risky, it was hard, it was dangerous. People acting in the best interests of humanity to keep us on a righteous path, that spoke to her. But Lily.

  “I’ve seen a lot of people come and go,” Luke added. “Some permanently, others because they couldn’t make peace with it. There’s no shame in that, it doesn’t do for us all to be the same. If this isn’t for you, it isn’t.”

  The car sped towards London, the road noise swallowed by the heavy chassis, big tyres.

  “Do you think I was hard on you?” Luke asked.

  “I see why.”

  “Do you? Tell me.”

  He was really doing this?

  “I failed, it’s all a mess. And two people died.”

  “It’s semantics but, yeah, on paper it doesn’t look good. Problem is that the review panel can’t be told specifics, so they’ll see the report as objective one—to persuade Rubin to fake his death and go into hiding—fail. Objective two—to have Agnetha Rubin arrested for money laundering charges—fail.”