“Not at all, not at all. I’m here on my lonesome. No backup. No threats, veiled or otherwise. Just little old me. Let’s call it a goodwill mission.”
“Of course, a goodwill mission. But let me tell you, if only for the sake of openness, that if, theoretically, there was an assault on this island we would have the ability to defend ourselves.”
“Oh, no doubt. And theoretically, the British Navy could flatten this island with a press of a button if it so chose. Again, theoretically.”
She expelled a frustrated breath. “Jesus guys, why don’t you flop them out on the table and be done with it?”
Eva didn’t want to mention she already knew the answer to that particular conundrum.
Bishop tutted. “In the middle of a soup course? I think not. Dessert, by all means, that possesses all kinds of delectable possibilities. But not soup, that’s fraught with danger.”
A napkin to Eva’s lips attempted to hide the smirk. She hoped Harry hadn’t seen it.
“I think that’s enough of that talk, thank you.” Harry said in his best schoolmaster voice. “I think we should come back to the subject at hand.”
Bishop let out a childish, “Aww,” and tilted his head. “Just when we were getting close to the fun bit, like the colourful tattoo of a lily on Ms Destruction’s inner thigh.”
It took a moment for her to realise what had just been said. She still didn’t believe it. Harry raised an eyebrow. Eva raised two. Bishop raised a glass.
Smarmy git.
Jesus, he was deliberately being provocative. To what end? Little did he know Harry wasn’t so easily baited.
The napkin was torn from Harry’s lap. He screwed it up and flung it into his half-eaten soup. “We’re done here.” He pushed out his chair. “Back to the lock-up with you. My limited hospitality is officially over.”
Maybe she had been wrong.
Without a further word being spoken, armed guards entered the dining room and hauled Bishop unceremoniously away. His last action before disappearing behind the large wooden doors was to give Eva a wink.
She turned to Harry. His fists were clenched and he fumed. It was the first time she’d ever seen him jealous.
He grasped her arm. “Come on, let’s go to bed.”
Eva shook him off. “Like hell. What was all that about, really? Were you trying to show off for me and it didn’t work out? Tough. And I won’t be the target of your hate fuck either. I’m not here for you to take out your frustrations on, Harry. If you want that, I’ll give you some hand cream and can recommend some excellent pornos, but I won’t be your on-call relief, okay? That’s not how it works. Are we clear?”
Chen rolled in a serving trolley and stared at them for a moment, perplexed. He wisely pushed it back into the kitchen noiselessly.
Harry’s jaw was clenched like a bear trap. He inhaled deeply for a while, gathering himself. “Sorry. It’s…he got to me. He shouldn’t have, but…he seems to have a way of pissing people off.”
“Really? I hadn’t noticed.”
Harry ran his hand along her cheek tenderly. “I apologise for being so churlish. That’s not me. You know that. I regret treating you like some lady of the night. It was uncouth and thoughtless.”
It was incredible that Harry had taken umbrage to Bishop’s, admittedly provocative, chauvinist remarks when it had been he who’d told her what to wear, where to stand. Pot, kettle, black. Eva was about to mention it when he interrupted.
Harry ran his hand along her arm. “Oh, and I wouldn’t worry about the spy.”
She found that difficult to believe.
Harry kissed the top of her head and continued. “This was to be his last meal. He’ll be executed in the morning.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Decker put down his coffee mug. “Oh, don’t stop there.”
Eva sighed. “Kind of have to. I really need to pee.”
Tilting his head, Decker said, “So pee.”
Even with her restricted limbs, she sensed she was gaining some ground back in her conversation with the Navy men. She had their attention again and Decker was less threatening. She decided it was time to push her limited advantage. Plus she really did have to pee.
“Look, I know some guys get off on that and I’m sure there are websites dedicated to watching chicks pissing their pants, but I really have no time for your fetishes.”
“It’s not like that, Ms Destruction. We want to make sure you don’t free yourself from your restraints again.”
“You mean the handcuffs you put on a lone woman, in a locked room, on a ship full of armed Navy personnel in the middle of the ocean. They’re the restraints you’re referring to? Also, let’s not even go into the fact that I’m not the bad guy here. All I’ve done is cooperate with you and you tie me to a chair and make me wet myself. Have you informed the President of that little titbit? How about you release me and I’ll forget all about it when I write my memoir. What do you say?”
Regardless of his gruff exterior, Eva could see Decker waver. The mention of the President caused his eye to twitch slightly.
“Come on guys. I’m sure this tub has a toilet or two. Surely you can let me…?”
“Not a chance in hell.” Decker shook his head.
“How about a bucket then? Something. Anything. Hell, give me that cup.”
“It was a present from my mother.”
Eva paused. “Do you like her?”
“Yes.”
“Alright, a bucket then.”
Cole interjected. “If we ever want to get to the bottom of this, how about I go to the infirmary and grab a bedpan. Otherwise we’ll be here for hours.”
It was the first time Eva had seen Cole assertive. The timing for him to man up couldn’t have been better. Decker gave a slight nod and Cole left.
Shifting in his chair, Decker said, “Please, continue. If your bladder can hold on for a few minutes.”
Eva wasn’t sure it could, but they would find out soon enough. “Where was I? Oh, yeah. I was about to find out the truth. A terrible unbelievable truth. I was about to choose my side and decide the fate of the world.”
Eva stormed down the hall after Harry.
“What the hell do you mean he’ll be executed? Since when do you execute anyone? You’re not an execution kind of guy. You’re all justice for all, I donate to Amnesty, Kumbaya, I’ll have the free range eggs, guy. As far as I know you aren’t the, hey let’s put a bullet in this bloke’s head because he annoyed my girlfriend, guy.”
“You’re my girlfriend?”
“Yeah, because that’s what we should be talking about right now.”
Harry stopped walking. “Eva, he represents a threat to everything I have established here. Everything I–”
“You’re killing him because of what he represents? Can you even hear yourself?” Eva ran her fingers through her hair. She couldn’t believe she was having this conversation with Harry. “Why kill him? Why kill anyone? I thought you were about taking the moral high ground and setting the example. Slap him on the wrist and stick him on a plane with a note from the principal. Anything is better than executing him. He hasn’t threatened you or your operation.”
Harry continued his walk along the corridor. Eva had no choice but to follow.
“Despite what he said, the man isn’t here for a lark. Somehow he’s stumbled on our location and he’s unwilling to divulge how he did it.”
Eva did her best to show no change in her demeanour. She needed to destroy the pen.
Throwing his hands in the air, Harry continued. “But the fact remains he is currently the only person on this planet who can bring down everything I’ve meticulously planned. I refuse to let decades of ceaseless work be destroyed by an arrogant sexist buffoon.”
Harry turned and she realised where they were. The bedroom. The place where only the night before she’d fallen into old habits and spent an amazing night with a man she thought she could love again. But everything since then had
shattered those rose-coloured glasses.
The more time she spent with Harry 2.0, the more she believed he really was a supervillain, or at least was charging towards being an evil dictator. Perhaps without the total evil, but still. Sentencing Bishop to death would only tilt him further in the wrong direction.
Harry Lancing possessed unnatural gifts in all areas and Eva honestly believed he wanted to improve the world for the better. Free healthcare, no war, free trade, just labour laws for all, not only the rich countries. Although for him to achieve all that he’d need to become, for want of a better term, a benevolent dictator. Did the end justify the means? Did the death of one man justify the benefits for millions?
Eva came back to the murky question of who wore the white hat and who wore the black. Deeper than that, there were the differences between the two men themselves. Harry was like honey; sweet to taste, sensual, something to roll around on her tongue and savour. Bishop on the other hand was like a shot of bourbon; sharp, strong, making her whole body tingle. And ultimately something she’d regret in the morning.
Once again, Eva came back to what Harry believed her role was in it all.
“Why am I here, Harry? I want a real answer this time.”
“Because I love you and you make me a better human being.”
Suddenly his words seemed hollow to Eva. Devoid of significance. She was beginning to regret not only agreeing to find Harry for MI6, but possibly her entire relationship. Was the man underneath worth all the pain and compromise?
Whenever she was around him Eva became someone else. Something less than the sum of its parts. Was Harry worth her becoming less than herself, less than whole?
“Tell that to Bishop.” Dread gurgled in her gut. “Executing a bloke is a major step, Harry. It’s making me question you, us.” That caused a reaction. His face flashed with a fracture of fear. Good. She decided to push it. “Why are we even together? Why me, Harry?”
“Because you are exceptional. One of a kind.” He slid his hand along her cheek. “I came back to the café the day we met because you were unlike anyone I’d ever met in my life. You’re devastatingly intelligent, you are my moral compass, you challenge me when needed and, let’s face it, you’re a bit of alright.”
She pushed away his hand. Something in what he said triggered the memory of a niggling thought that had been rolling around her brain since the conversation with Van Buren when she first arrived. At the time she’d tried to dismiss it as the ramblings of a jealous Security Chief. Now it began to ring true far more than she was comfortable with.
She inhaled deeply. “Harry,” she said almost inaudibly, “why…why were you near my café that day?”
“What?”
“The day we met. You said you were in the area. Your exact words were that you were trying to ‘familiarise yourself’ with the area. You’ve got no parts of your corporation anywhere near there. So,” she gulped fearing the answer, “why were you near my café? And Harry, don’t you dare bullshit me, I’ll know.”
His face was sombre. “You want the real truth?”
“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.”
“You won’t like it.”
Eva crossed her arms. “Why were you there, Harry? On that day.”
“I was just poking around. Checking things out.”
Things. Eva’s spine turned to ice. “Did you…did you know what was going to happen? The terrorist attacks? Did you know, Harry?”
Harry said nothing but gave a small smile. That bloody smile. The smile he thought was cheeky, but right at that moment it was only sinister.
Eva felt ill. She had to leave or she’d throw up on Harry’s expensive rug.
The foundation of everything – their entire relationship – was based on a lie. The Battle of Trafalgar wasn’t some random event. It had been planned by a madman. The day she’d fallen in love with Harry was also the day he’d manipulated the world. Lied to it. To her. He was never the hero of the Battle of Trafalgar, he was the cause.
It had never made sense to her why the youths had been so ready to attack the streets so soon. They had been far too organised. There was good reason for that – because Harry had organised them.
“You set it up? The whole Battle of Trafalgar was…” Eva fought the dizziness that swirled around her, “…you caused everything? It never had anything to do with those Freedom First nutbags did it? The explosions, the riot, just for some, some, fucking PR?”
Harry shrugged. “Threatening world leaders was never going to win me friends, Eva. I needed a way to have the public on my side. To show them I was their champion, not some rich man with an agenda. I needed a way to generate goodwill and leverage it as long as I could.”
“Leverage! People died in those explosions, Harry. Innocent people.”
“A few, yes and that was unfortunate. That shouldn’t have happened. The warnings weren’t heeded, the stations weren’t evacuated. But in the end it was a small sacrifice in the whole scheme of things. For decades, hundreds, probably thousands, of years civilisation has been waiting for the world to right itself, to rid itself of evil, to do the right thing. It hasn’t. For every green energy bulb, hundreds die of starvation. For every treaty signed, thousands of refugees die in limbo. For every charity dollar given, billions languish in poverty.”
“So you killed innocent people so you can appoint yourself as the world’s saviour?”
Eva’s response was automatic. She sensed herself floating away from the conversation. She needed to run until her legs gave out. Only, on an island, she could never escape what she knew.
She could have fought on, argued with Harry. If she really was his moral compass, maybe she could talk him around. But she didn’t have the strength. She wanted to collapse in a ball and let the world spin on without her.
Harry took her hand and gave it a slight squeeze. “You need time. It’s a lot to take in, I understand. Go and sleep on it. Tomorrow it will make a lot more sense, believe me. It’s all for the greater good, it is. You’ll see. We can change the world, Eva. You and me. Together we can be the best thing to happen to Europe since the Renaissance. We have to forge through a little pain, and it will all be for the better.”
Eva stared at him with impassive eyes. She didn’t know what to think any more. Stumbling towards the door she tried to convey an outward appearance of calm. She failed.
She mumbled some vague excuse about not feeling well and needing a lie down. Harry nodded and kissed her cheek. As she entered the hall, Harry grasped her arm. “Oh, and I know you wouldn’t, but don’t bother trying to speak to Bishop either. For your safety I have two layers of armed guards, as well as an exceedingly pissed off Van Buren in charge. He really doesn’t like you, does he?”
They both knew it was rhetorical. Harry lowered his gaze. His expression stern.
“And tonight is your last night in the guest house. It will be far better for us both when you move your things into the main house tomorrow. I’ll give you tonight to come around.” His expression was emotionless. “Otherwise we might need two blindfolds tomorrow morning.” The laugh was meant to convey a joke. Eva detected no humour.
He shut the door and she staggered along the hall. It was too much to take in. The lies, the betrayal, everything she held dear for so long was all twisted and wrong. She found the nearest pot plant and threw up.
She wiped her mouth and straightened her back. She headed towards the guest house.
Harry had made a mistake.
He said Bishop was the only one on Earth capable of bringing him down.
He was wrong.
Eva counted her advantages. Surprise, sure. Plus she also knew the main house intimately as she’d cased it extensively searching for hidden rooms.
The disadvantages seemed disproportionately stacked against her. She was mostly unarmed. The guards were not. She didn’t know exactly where Bishop was being held, nor how many guards were between them. She also didn’t know when or where they
planned on killing him. Then there was the minor point that Van Buren would have a hard-on for a week if she gave him an excuse to shoot her between the eyes.
There was another advantage. She looked like a Hollywood cat burglar in her black turtleneck, black leggings and her black hair tied back in a ponytail. Screw Harry and his expensive dresses. In fact, just screw Harry.
It was astonishing how quickly Harry had unravelled their entire life together. The final fall had been swift but the crash landing stung like a bitch. Irrespective of what Harry had become, one day she would mourn their relationship’s passing. That day wasn’t today.
At the moment she was focussing on anything but Harry, but, of course, everything was still about Harry. It took all of her already significant powers of denial to filter him out. Thankfully she had a mission to accomplish and if that involved taking out the bastard who had lied to her since the first day they met, so be it.
As she hid in the tropical underbrush across from the main house, Eva tried to focus. She had spent an hour circling the house, watching every movement. The quarter moon made it easier for her to be veiled by shadows. The only lights on in the main house were in the western wing. Guards only seemed to be patrolling that side as well. Reason dictated Bishop would be languishing in a cell on that side of the house.
That was the easy part. All Eva had to do was get past the armed security force, rescue Bishop and get off the island. Piece of piss.
Eva went back to the mental map she’d made of the house. Logically any outward-facing rooms should be excluded. Too easy for Bishop to escape, or someone else to get in. There were a few open lounge areas in that part of the house, so they would be out as well. She narrowed it down to two or three possible rooms.
A thought struck. The secret railway. She recalled the main house had two entrances. Therefore there must be another entrance somewhere. The one she had used was on the eastern side. It was plausible the other entrance would be far removed from that one. She frowned. It was worth a shot.
The Barista’s Guide to Espionage Page 26