Rise of the Enemy

by Rob Sinclair

  Without a satisfying conclusion, my thoughts soon moved on: Mackie. My boss. The man who had tutored me and given me this life. The only person in the world who even barely resembled a friend. But also the man who’d sent me to Russia. The man who, according to the Russians, had sent me to die. In the morning I would be meeting with him. And with that playing on my mind, the question of which one of Mary or Chris to trust didn’t seem quite so important any more.

  Chapter 28

  ‘We want you to kill Mackie.’

  My heart skipped a beat at Lena’s words. Killing had, unfortunately, become a common part of my life. Something I was good at. It wasn’t that I was being asked to kill that was so shocking to me. There weren’t many other things I expected Lena to want me to do. The shock was hearing Mackie’s name in that request.

  And yet was it the idea of killing Mackie that was so hard to comprehend? Or the fact I hadn’t realised this was what Lena had been building up to?

  ‘You want to be a free man, don’t you?’

  ‘If I killed Mackie, I’d never be free,’ I said.

  ‘You’d be free to leave here,’ Lena replied, shrugging.

  ‘That’s not the same thing.’

  ‘Well, right now you’re not free, whatever way you look at it. Killing Mackie is your only chance of having a life again.’

  ‘Why would I want to kill him?’

  ‘For revenge. Isn’t that what drives you?’

  ‘I couldn’t do it,’ I said. ‘Whatever reason you think I may have, I just couldn’t do it.’

  Mackie meant too much to me – it was that simple. Lena knew that. We’d discussed my relationship with Mackie at length, despite it being such a sore subject that I’d seemingly been abandoned by him. But it didn’t matter. Whatever Mackie may or may not have done to put me in the hands of the Russians, I wasn’t sure I could ever see him as the enemy.

  Could I?

  ‘Mackie put you in here,’ Lena said, as if reading my thoughts.

  ‘No, you and your people put me in here.’

  ‘We just brought you here. It was Mackie who sent you on a suicide mission.’

  ‘So you keep saying. But it makes no sense.’

  ‘It makes perfect sense. Tell me about your life,’ Lena said.

  ‘What about my life?’

  ‘Tell me how you met Mackie. Tell me what it is that makes you trust him so much.’

  I didn’t want to be having this conversation. But I had to defend myself. I had to defend being here. I couldn’t face the possibility that the person sitting before me really was on my side. And the person I looked up to, whom I’d trusted for so long, was my enemy.

  ‘It’s a long story,’ I said.

  ‘So start at the beginning. How did you meet him?’

  ‘When I met Mackie,’ I said, aware that she probably knew everything that I was about to tell her; knowing that this was all part of her game, part of her enjoyment, ‘I was just a teenager. I had nothing going for me. I wasn’t some university graduate with a degree in psychology. I was a tearaway, mixed up with the local gangs. Running drugs, carrying out thefts and assaults. Anything they asked, and anything I needed to stay alive.’

  ‘You certainly have that instinct about you. Survival.’

  I ignored the mocking compliment. ‘When Mackie came along, my world was in a mess. I’d just lost a good friend. He’d been killed in a gang fight. Knifed to death before my eyes.’

  I paused, looking for a reaction to my words in Lena’s face. I saw none. I wondered again whether she’d heard this story from me before and what went through her mind when I recounted these episodes from my troubled life. Was it empathy? Pity? Guilt? Or did it merely make her feel some sort of cruel pleasure?

  ‘Go on,’ she said. ‘And what happened?’

  ‘Mackie told me that my friend had been working for him. Undercover. And that he wanted me to carry on that work. Helping to bring down the rival drug gangs.’

  ‘And did you believe him?’

  ‘I was a screwed-up teenager who’d just seen his closest friend killed. I didn’t know what to believe.’

  ‘But did you believe him?’

  ‘No,’ I said with certainty. ‘I didn’t even know him. And he was telling me something that just didn’t make any sense. I’d known Pete, the guy who was killed, for months. We didn’t just work together, we did everything together. So how could I believe that everything I thought I knew about him was a lie?’

  ‘And yet you started working for Mackie? So where’s the missing link?’

  ‘He built trust with me.’

  ‘How? From what you told me before, he lied to you. He got you planting the seed for the destruction of the rival gang without you even knowing it.’

  I felt the pit of my stomach churn at the realisation that Lena was, as normal, playing me. Of course she’d heard the story before. She’d heard everything. And she revelled in showing that to me.

  And she was right, Mackie had lied to me. Or at least not told me the full truth. I was just a teenager doing small errands for someone I thought was in law enforcement. Mackie paid me handsomely. I didn’t understand the consequences of what I was being asked to do. But a lot of people got hurt or killed because of my work for Mackie. Granted, they were mostly bad people. But Mackie used me.

  That was all years ago, though. Before either of us had even joined the JIA. And when Mackie moved up in the world and was given a position of commander at the JIA, he brought me in with him. Moulded me into the agent he needed.

  A lot of time had passed since then. And the trust had been built. Our relationship cemented.

  ‘If you already know all the answers then why bother asking me?’

  ‘Because I want you to see the answers,’ Lena said, pointing at me. ‘I want you to see that the situation you’re in now isn’t too dissimilar to that one all those years ago. It takes years to build up the level of trust you have with Mackie. So I’m not expecting you to suddenly trust me like you trust him. But I want you to see the similarities in your situation right now to that one when you first met Mackie.’

  ‘This is nothing like back then. I was a foolish teenager. I needed someone to take me under their wing, to show me right from wrong. That was Mackie. He changed my life. He saved my life.’

  ‘Your life may have changed, but can you not see how the situation you’re in now is just the same?’

  ‘No. I can’t see it at all,’ I lied.

  Because I could see clearly now where she was taking this.

  ‘The people you trusted lied to you,’ Lena said. ‘Mackie, Pete – they both did. They let you down by betraying your trust.’

  Grainger too, I thought, but I didn’t say it.

  ‘It’s the worst thing that anyone can do,’ Lena continued. ‘My position now is not any different from when you first met Mackie. You may see me as the enemy, as the bearer of bad news, but I’m here to set things straight. You’re in denial, Carl. You don’t want to believe me. Just like you didn’t want to believe Mackie about Pete all those years ago. And I can understand that. Because what I’m telling you is turning your world upside down. But that doesn’t mean it’s not true.’

  ‘It’s different,’ I said. ‘This is nothing like that. I could never trust you. Just look at what you’ve done to me. Mackie never hurt me. Not like you have.’

  Lena shrugged and smiled.

  ‘These are just mind games,’ I said. ‘You want me to believe that the situation is the same. But you’ve given me no reason to believe what you’re saying is the truth. Without proof, how could I ever listen to you?’

  Lena slammed down a fist. ‘Logan, who the hell else have you got to listen to?’

  It was an unusual show of aggression from her, making the simple gesture all the more pronounced, and I sat back, unable to find any retort. The only other time I’d seen any sign of real anger in Lena had been the day she’d throttled me. I was forever wary around her since that mo
ment, aware that the slightest indiscretion could lead to her revealing that side again.

  ‘They sent you here knowing that you’d be caught,’ she carried on, anger evident in her voice. ‘That was their whole plan. They were giving you up.’

  ‘No, it’s not true,’ I said, but my voice was mild and meek. Lena was in control here.

  ‘Listen to yourself. Even you don’t believe your own words any more. They gave you up, Logan. Your own agency blew your cover.’

  Her words reverberated in my head. I tried to ignore what she was saying, tried to ignore the growing feeling of betrayal. But I just couldn’t.

  ‘It still doesn’t make sense,’ I said, shaking my head, wanting to doubt what she was saying more than I really did. ‘Why would they want me to be caught?’

  ‘It’s all politics, Carl,’ Lena said, the anger dissipating now that it appeared her words were having their desired effect. ‘That’s what everything is: politics. A deal was struck between your people and Russia. We got you. In exchange we passed on some very valuable information.’

  ‘What information?’

  ‘I can show you if you like.’

  I clenched my fists together tightly, frustration threatening to boil over inside me. I didn’t want to listen to any of this. How could I ever trust anything that she said to me or showed me?

  But I had to know. I had to find out whether her claims held any truth at all. I had to know why I was here. And why no-one had come for me.

  ‘Why me?’ I said. ‘Why would they give me up? Why would Mackie give me up?’

  ‘We have very good memories in my country. This is nothing to do with me, of course. But we – my people, that is – asked for you. Your people were willing to give you up. You’ve got history here, remember?’

  ‘I remember,’ I said.

  I shouldn’t have needed to ask the question. I knew exactly what Lena was referring to. The last assignment I’d been on in Russia had been some years ago. But I was well aware of the mark that had been left.

  I’d been in charge of leading a plan to capture and extradite a Russian oligarch from under the noses of the Russian authorities. He was a wanted man in the US and numerous countries in Europe for a whole host of serious offences linked to his rapidly expanding business empire, murders included. But the Russians hadn’t wanted to play ball. So I’d been sent in to snatch him. And I’d succeeded, much to the embarrassment of the FSB and the Russian government, who had close ties to the oligarch. Ever since then he’d been held in secret, without acknowledgment, by the Americans.

  So it made sense to me that the Russians would want the person responsible for that coup – me. But that didn’t explain why Mackie or the JIA would want to give me up.

  ‘If my own people gave me up because Russia wants to get its revenge, then why are you now sending me back home to kill Mackie? The person who’d have helped broker your deal in the first place?’

  ‘This was always part of our plan,’ Lena chuckled. ‘Of course, I wouldn’t exactly say that all parties signed up to it. The JIA sent you here expecting us to keep you, torture, maybe kill you. This is just our way of taking a bit extra from the deal. The cherry on top.’

  ‘All’s fair in love and war,’ I said.

  ‘Yes. I love that saying. Never a truer sentence than that.’

  ‘On the other hand, say I don’t believe one word you’ve told me?’

  ‘Then you can stay here. We can keep doing this, hope that maybe you’ll see the truth eventually. Or we could just go back to torturing you. But this is your chance to get out.’

  ‘And what then? If I accept your offer, do you just let me leave? Let me walk out of here under the pretence that I’m off to kill Mackie? It all sounds a bit risky from your side. I could just go running straight back home.’

  ‘Yes, of course you could. It’s a risk. But we think we have that covered.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘Because we can prove it to you. Everything I’ve just told you. We can prove it all. Once you know the truth, I’ve no doubt as to what you’ll do. Revenge, Logan, is what drives you. Once you’ve seen the truth, there’ll be only one thing on your mind.’

  The carrot had been dangled in front of my face. I was doing what every good donkey does and was following it. But why was I even still playing along? I would never kill Mackie.

  Would I?

  No. I would rather rot to death in my cell.

  And yet I couldn’t deny that a part of me was captivated by what had been said. The seeds of doubt were growing. I had to know whether there was any truth in Lena’s words.

  ‘Show me what you’ve got,’ I said. ‘Then we’ll talk.’

  Chapter 29

  I slept for twelve straight hours on the sofa of the safe house. Together with the meal that Mary had cooked – a warming meat stew – the long rest had done its job. By morning I felt stronger and fresher than I had done in an age.

  After a simple breakfast we left the safe house at midday, on foot, headed to the Café Vite to meet Mackie. The rendezvous point was a half-hour’s walk but I was happy to be in the fresh air, even though my feet were aching within minutes. It would be at least a few more days until the sores healed properly.

  It was a clear and crisp day, but despite the bright sun the temperature was still unbearably low. There hadn’t been any new snow overnight so what lay on the ground had become hard and icy and slippery. On the main streets of the city the piles of snow that had been cleared from the roads and pavements were already turning black from the petrol and diesel fumes of passing vehicles and vast swathes of mucky slush were splattered here, there and everywhere.

  None of us spoke on the walk. That suited me. It gave me more time to ponder what was about to happen. I was full of nerves – a strange feeling for me. I had no idea what to expect from the meeting. Was it going to be another ambush? Were they going to off me there and then? Or was Mackie really going to be there in conciliatory mode, to offer a helping hand to me like he’d done countless times before?

  Lena and the Russians wanted me to kill Mackie. They’d told me that would be my way out, the way to earn my freedom from them. With everything that had been going on around me, I wasn’t sure the proposition was so outlandish any more.

  I just hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

  We arrived at the café, which was fronted by what would probably be a bustling outdoor area during the brief but warm summer, but it was so quiet now, in the mid-winter, that anyone walking by may not even have realised that the place was still open for business. As we walked in, Mary in front, Chris behind me, I noticed only two other patrons in the quaint, French-style interior. Not really surprising given the weather – who comes out for coffee and a slice of cake when it’s minus twenty?

  The café was compact with just four rows of neatly aligned tables. I took a seat in the far corner at a small round table that had two chairs. Mary and Chris took one of the tables near to the door, about twelve feet away from me. They were here to babysit me, evidently, but not to be party to my conversation with Mackie.

  The waitress came over to me straight away and I ordered a sparkling water. She gave me an odd look, probably unused to people coming in from the cold for a chilled drink. I enjoyed coffee but only when I needed a kick. Mostly I tried not to consume caffeine-based drinks. I’d never seen the point in drinking something that just leaves you more dehydrated than when you started. Actually, no, alcohol was an exception to that. I drank alcohol. And like most people, I sometimes drank too much. But then I’d had a rough life and sometimes alcohol can make things seem better, if only for a little while.

  No other customers came in as we sat and waited. My nerves were growing by the second. Despite the cool temperature of the interior, my hands were becoming clammy and I couldn’t stop fidgeting in my seat, my heart jumping every time I saw a figure walk past the café window.

  I finally spotted Mackie across the street. My gaze stayed on him as he
crossed the road and approached the door, a rush of memories and emotion flowing through me. Unfortunately most of it was bad. Mackie wore a thick woollen hat, a scarf wrapped tight around his neck and a big black parka. He had what appeared to be genuine concern on his face.

  Despite everything going on in my head – the continual doubts about his betrayal, the things Lena had said and shown me, and the bizarre events of the previous day – I almost smiled when he came through the door and our eyes met. But I stopped myself when I saw that he wasn’t alone.

  Two burly men came into view and followed him in, dressed in similar attire, though each was a good few inches taller than Mackie. With the bulk of their clothing they were almost as wide as the door itself.

  I stood up as Mackie made his way over.

  ‘Jesus, Logan, it’s good to see you,’ Mackie said, coming up close to me. ‘I really mean that. I’m glad you’re all right.’

  There was an awkward moment where neither of us was sure what to do next. No hug, no pat on the back, no handshake. Eventually we both sat down.

  Mackie’s thick-rimmed glasses had fogged up from the warm air in the café. He took them off and pulled out a handkerchief to wipe them. Mackie looked exactly as he always did; plump, well-groomed, his dyed hair cut short and neatly styled. He looked like a corporate boss.

  ‘Who are the goons?’ I said.

  The two men sat themselves down at a table by the window, on the opposite side of the door to Chris and Mary. One looking out, one looking in.

  ‘Oh, those two?’ Macke said, rather nonchalantly I thought, as he replaced his glasses. ‘Just ignore them. Necessary precautions, I’m afraid.’

  ‘They your protection from me or someone else?’

  Mackie laughed. ‘They’re my protection from everyone. We’re not entirely sure what’s going on here, what with you turning up, the explosion – it’s hard to know who’s safe from whom.’