by Rob Sinclair
I was acutely aware that I was suffering on some level from Stockholm Syndrome – the paradoxical phenomenon in which captives show empathy towards and even develop feelings for their captors. It’s not real empathy, simply an inbuilt, subconscious survival technique. It was the Russians’ exact intention for me to be feeling this way: Lena’s presence – her persona and her looks in particular – were intended to exploit it. I knew that and yet I was powerless to stop it.
I loathed Lena. I hated her. I often clenched my fists together when I thought about her in my cell, wanting to crush her neck, crush the life out of her, much like she’d almost done to me. I wanted to kill her. And yet I wanted to please her too – because I liked how they were treating me now. On some level I longed for the time we spent together. I enjoyed her companionship. I needed that companionship. Without it I was all alone.
And the more we talked, the more I opened up to Lena and vice versa, the more I saw that we had so many feelings and experiences in common. She’d had a similarly unhappy upbringing to me – no father that she knew of and her mother had died at a young age. The FSB had been a way out for her, a way to have a life, much like the JIA for me.
Sometimes we talked to each other for hours a day. I tried to be guarded, to give away little of my life. But it was clear that she already knew the most intimate details. I didn’t resent that any more. In many ways it felt good that another human being seemed to get me. Seemed to understand my thoughts and what I’d gone through.
‘You know we’d be willing to let you go. You do know that, don’t you?’ she said.
I snapped out of my thoughts. This was typical bullshit from Lena, it had to be. But her words lured me in nonetheless, as they always did.
‘Sounds good to me. Let’s go.’
Lena laughed, her smile lighting up her whole face but the darkness still remaining somewhere in the back of her eyes.
‘Very funny. Not just like that. But think about it. If you help us, we’ll help you.’
‘So that’s what this boils down to. You want me to betray my country. You want me to betray everything I’ve ever worked for. For you? For the people who’ve tortured me and held me captive for eleven weeks of my life?’
Despite my protest, I knew I’d already betrayed my people: the JIA, Mackie. But then, hadn’t they betrayed me in the first place, as Lena had so vehemently argued?
‘I’m not going to apologise for what we’ve done to you,’ Lena said.
‘I’m not asking you to.’
‘What we did was necessary,’ she said. ‘But you have to see that there’s a way out for you now. I’m offering you a way out of this. A way to be normal again.’
‘I’m not sure that I’ve ever been normal.’
‘Logan, this is the only chance you’re going to get. Your own people have left you for dead. They don’t care what happens to you. You can either rot in here for the rest of your days or you can get out. If you ask me, it’s not a hard choice.’
‘So you want me to work for Russia. You want me to become another one of your puppets, doing your dirty work.’
‘Yes and no.’
‘Meaning what?’
‘You’d be working for us, but not a puppet. We’ve got something very specific for you. And then you’re done.’
‘Just one job.’
‘Exactly. Just one job.’
‘And then I’m free.’
‘Yes.’
‘So what is it?’
‘There’s someone we want you to kill.’
Chapter 27
When I came to, the first thing I saw was Mary’s face. I had to open and close my eyes a few times to bring her fully into focus. My head felt heavy and my body distant. Whatever they had shot me full of was still in my system, making me drowsy and docile.
Slowly, I took in the scene. A square room. One window, off to my right. A small cabinet with a TV on top. A brown fabric sofa on which Mary sat. Looking down, I saw I was still fully clothed but had lost my coat. My wrists were cuffed to a radiator.
But I was surprised I was alive at all. When I’d turned around to face them after entering the apartment, I’d felt sure my time was up.
‘You’re back,’ Mary said, appearing jovial as ever.
I ignored her.
‘Sorry about that,’ she said, pointing to the small wound on my neck where Chris had hastily injected me. ‘Really, I am. We just thought it would be easier this way.’
I simply shook and then bowed my head.
‘Look, this isn’t easy for us either. We’ve got pretty clear instructions: we need to keep you safe and within sight. You’ve already shown that you’re not prepared to sit tight with us, so what else are we supposed to do? We’ll stay here tonight and then head out to see Mackie when he arrives in the morning.’
I let out a long exhale. Avoided any eye contact with her.
A few moments later, Chris walked into the room.
‘Ah, you’re awake,’ he said. ‘Sorry about the needle.’
I looked up at Mary, who smiled apologetically.
‘Yes. Everyone’s very sorry,’ I said, my words slurred and slow.
Chris turned away from me to talk to Mary. They spoke to each other just quietly enough to make sure I couldn’t hear them. Then Chris turned back around and headed out of the room.
‘I’ll be back in a bit, yeah?’ he called as he headed down the hall and out the front door.
Mary and I sat for a number of minutes in silence.
‘Where’d he go?’ I said eventually.
‘Just to get some food. We all need to eat. It’s been a long day.’
‘Tell me about it.’
‘Please, Logan, I really mean it – don’t be like this with us. We’re just trying to do the right thing here.’
I could hear sincerity in her voice. And not for the first time. There was something about her manner that seemed genuine enough, even if I didn’t trust her. But what did she want me to say? They weren’t exactly making things easy for me.
‘How about you take these cuffs off? It’s not exactly the most comfortable position. Especially if I’m going to be here all night.’
She tutted. ‘I’m not going to do that, Carl. Especially when Chris isn’t here.’
She got up out of her seat, walked over and knelt down on the floor just in front of me.
‘Look, Logan, I really am here to help,’ she said, her voice soft and quiet. ‘I’m going to get you to Mackie tomorrow and from there everything will get back to normal for you. You’ll be out of Russia and on your way home in no time. We’ll be staying on to finish things off here. But your job is done. Just work with me on this, please?’
I didn’t respond but I gave her a look of acknowledgement. I wondered what she meant by saying they were staying on to finish the job but didn’t ask the question. I was sure she wouldn’t give me a truthful answer if she bothered to answer at all.
‘You know, I’ve heard a lot about you,’ Mary said, smiling again. ‘You’ve got quite a reputation. That’s unusual in our line of business. Most of the time we don’t have a clue who else works for the agency and who’s on our side.’
‘You can say that again.’
‘I was glad when I got put on this. Glad for the chance to meet you. I’m just sorry we weren’t able to get to you sooner. I really was trying. We all were.’
Again I felt that she was being sincere but found it hard to buy what she was saying.
The expression on her face changed and I could tell she had something on her mind. But she took a few moments to compose herself.
‘There’s something else,’ she said, her head bowed, not looking at me. ‘It’s about Chris. I only met him a few days ago. I’ve never worked with him before. I don’t know what it is, but…’
I knew she was trying to tell me something but struggling to find the words. I gave her the time to finish and eventually she did.
‘I don’t trust him,’ she said.<
br />
Well, this was a turn-up for the books. My interest was immediately piqued. What can I say? I’m a naturally suspicious person.
‘Go on,’ I said.
She sighed and scratched her neck. The signs of tension were firing here, there and everywhere.
‘It’s hard to place. Just some of the things he says and does. Like just now. He’s gone out to get food. He’s always going out on these little errands.’
‘That’s it? He goes out on errands?’ I said, hoping she had more, though already willing to believe that something might not be quite right, given the course of events so far.
‘No. That’s not it,’ she said. She paused again.
‘Tell me, Mary.’
‘Well, the other day I followed him on one of these trips. He said he was going to the shop for beer. It was actually a rendezvous. With a man. It’s not right. I’ve seen this before. I might be quite new to the job but I know how things work in our field. And I think Chris might be working with someone else.’
I took a moment to digest what she was saying. Could Chris be a double agent, working for another agency, or at the least passing information? I tried to think through the possibilities of what that could mean, but it only seemed to add another layer of complexity.
‘Any ideas who the man was?’ I said.
‘Well, that’s the thing. I took a picture of the guy on my phone. I’m a spy, after all.’ She smiled, clearly proud of the fact. ‘I sent the picture to the lab, to someone I know I can trust. And it’s not what I expected at all. The guy is an American agent. CIA. I can’t think of any reason for them to be involved here. But somehow they are. And I think Chris is working for them too. Maybe it’s nothing. But I don’t like it.’
It’s fair to say that I was gobsmacked. What she was telling me felt surreal. I had no idea what it all meant. My agency, the JIA, was technically supported by both the UK and US governments. But other than a couple of people in the upper echelons of command, we operated completely independently of the other well-known agencies of those countries. That meant that the JIA’s interests weren’t necessarily aligned to those of other agencies.
Unless what Mary was describing was a sanctioned relationship, then on the face of it Chris meeting with someone from the CIA was just as unusual and wrong as if he were giving information to an agent from a third country. It was a big deal that potentially changed the playing field considerably. And added to my confusion as to what the hell was happening to me.
‘Why are you telling me this?’ I said.
Mary turned away from me again. ‘There’s no-one else to tell,’ she said, looking down at the floor.
‘You could tell Mackie.’
‘Tell him what? And what if it’s something he’s involved in too? I haven’t known him that long. Or what if it’s all just legit, something above my pay grade that I’m not supposed to know about? Chances are it probably is.’
‘Then why are you so concerned?’
‘Wouldn’t you be?’
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘You’re right. I would be.’
‘Just be careful around him,’ she said.
‘What else do you know?’
‘Well, there’s one other thing…’
Just then I heard a bang as the front door closed and a second later Chris came striding back into the lounge.
Mary stood up, giving Chris a meek smile.
‘What’s going on?’ he said, frowning.
‘Nothing,’ Mary said. ‘We were just talking about tomorrow. I’ll go and make some food, shall I?’
‘Yeah, that’d be great,’ Chris said, not looking entirely convinced.
Mary took the bags of shopping off Chris and headed out of the room and into the kitchen, which was directly off the lounge. Chris glanced down at me. I stared straight back at him. After a few seconds he shook his head, turned away and walked back up the corridor and through a doorway off to the right that I guessed led to either a bedroom or a bathroom.
I was alone in the dark and dingy room for about half an hour, mulling over what Mary had said. There had to be a way to play what she had told me to my advantage, if I were just given the chance. But what I pondered most was what Mary had been unable to tell me. Was it more dirt on Chris? Or something else?
The smell of cooking drifted through from the kitchen and my stomach began to growl violently in anticipation. I hadn’t eaten anything in too long.
Chris came back into the room and knelt down by me in pretty much the same position as Mary had some time before.
‘So what were you two talking about?’ he said, his face sullen. ‘When I was gone?’
‘We were talking about you actually,’ I said, looking hard at his face, searching for any kind of reaction. Nothing.
‘Well, I’m sure you couldn’t have had much to talk about then,’ he said with an unconvincing smile. ‘You know, Mary and I only met a few days ago.’
‘Yeah, she said.’
‘Strange in our line of work, isn’t it? You can go years working without knowing who your colleagues even are.’
‘She said that too. Look, do you think you can take these cuffs off? I can hardly feel my hands.’
Chris looked at me and sighed. ‘If I do, I’m doing it as a sign of trust, yeah? We’ve got off on the wrong foot, I know. But we all just want this to be over with now.’
‘I want that more than you do.’
‘Perhaps you do. I’ll take them off. But you know this is the best place for you to be tonight. Why waste a good opportunity for some decent food and some rest?’
‘Just take them off. Please.’
Chris stood up, fished in his pocket and took out a small silver key. He knelt back down and unlocked the cuffs, and my arms dropped to the floor. It took a few seconds for blood to flow back through my tired limbs and for the feeling in my hands to return. When it did, I lifted my hands up and rubbed them together, getting used to having some sensation back. They were icy cold. The radiator hadn’t been on at all since we’d arrived. They were also shaking. I couldn’t be sure if it was just shivers or my anxiety symptoms returning.
‘Thanks,’ I said. ‘Maybe you can actually put the heating on now.’
Chris chuckled. ‘Good idea.’
He wandered out of the room and I got to my feet and headed over to the worn single-panel window. It was dark outside. Most of the snow clouds that had covered the ground in white powder earlier had parted. The shine from the moon was lighting up the near-clear sky and the buildings around outside. The streets seemed deserted; no working streetlights here. The handful of lights on in the windows of the block opposite was the only sign of human life.
I knew Chris and Mary would be wary of me still, and to tell the truth I was surprised Chris had agreed to take the cuffs off at all. I certainly wouldn’t have. He may well have had an ulterior motive for doing so but I didn’t care. And he was right: I had no intention of running off into the cold tonight. I would stay in the warmth, refuelling and reenergising.
Tomorrow was a new day.
Chris came back into the room and walked over to me. He stood by my side, arms folded, looking out of the window. I could tell he was building up to something.
‘I hope we can use this little sign of trust to move forward,’ he said.
‘We’ll see,’ I said.
He sighed. ‘Logan, look, about before, when I went out. I saw the look on Mary’s face when I came back. I know you two were talking about something.’
‘And?’
‘And just be careful with Mary.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
Chris looked behind him, to where Mary was still in the kitchen, pots and pans clanking away. He then took a sidestep closer to me.
‘I’m not sure we can trust her,’ he said, his voice lowered.
Well, this was certainly getting interesting.
‘Go on,’ I said.
‘I only just met her and I know virtually nothing
about her, but I really don’t get a good vibe. You know how it is? She’s a snake in the grass. I can feel it. I wouldn’t trust what she says if I were you. Ever since we’ve been here it’s been like there’s something else going on with her.’
‘But you haven’t seen or heard anything to back that up?’
‘Not yet I haven’t. I can just tell. I might not have been in this job as long as you but I know when something’s fishy. I’m trying to help you out here. We’re on the same team. We need to look out for each other. Be careful around her, that’s all I’m saying.’
He didn’t hang around for another response, turning around and heading to the kitchen.
Now I really didn’t know what to think. What Mary had said sounded plausible. I’d been intrigued by what she’d told me. It seemed to make some sense and it played to my naturally sceptical mind. I’d intuitively believed her. Her manner was pleasant. The way she’d dithered when deciding to tell me about Chris had been credible. She seemed professional and genuine, if a little out of her depth.
Chris, on the other hand, I just couldn’t read. What he’d said to me hadn’t carried the same weight. He had no story of an illicit rendezvous or any other evidence of why Mary wasn’t to be trusted. But I knew that wasn’t necessarily reason to dismiss his warning.
In a way, I was realising that Chris and I were probably more alike than I’d first thought. From what I’d seen, he played a straight game, much like myself. Because we were alike, we were more likely to butt heads, as we already had done. That didn’t mean he couldn’t be trusted, though, or that he was the bad guy. After all, he’d been willing to show some trust in me by taking the cuffs off.
Mary, though? Maybe Chris was right. She was so very different from me in persona, and so very likeable, that my interest was immediately piqued by her doubting Chris. But maybe that was the whole point. Maybe she was, as Chris said, a snake in the grass. Much like Lena, my captor, who’d used her looks and her allure against me.
I really didn’t know which way to go. Maybe both of them were just toying with me. They could have been in on the same scam. In the end what they had each told me really didn’t help me one bit. But one or both of them was lying to me, I was sure of that. And I was sure I would find out which one in time.