by Rob Sinclair
‘I can’t believe you actually just said that.’
And from that point I could see clearly where the meeting would go. There would be no pleasantries. No reminiscing. And yet what more could I have expected? Even if it should have been, this wasn’t two old friends meeting for a social drink. It was awkward and clumsy and fraught.
As sad as it made me feel, neither one of us truly trusted the other any more. And why would we? I’d been left for dead by my own people. Given up in order to settle an old score, if Lena was to be believed. Now the Russians wanted me to kill the very man they claimed had bargained with my life. And whether what Lena had told me was true or not, from Mackie’s point of view how could he be anything but sceptical about my sudden reappearance?
The waitress finished with the final customer, who was paying at the counter, and then came over to our table, her face full of smiles.
‘Good morning, Mr McCabe,’ she beamed.
‘Ah, my favourite coffee shop attendant. And how are you?’
The young girl blushed. Mackie ordered himself a double espresso. I said I was fine with my water and the waitress dutifully went to fetch the coffee.
‘So you know this place, then,’ I said, stating the obvious, hoping that Mackie would fill in the blanks for me. I’d never known him come to Omsk before, but he was clearly a regular here.
‘You’ve got to have safe places to go to, Logan. Whenever I’m in town I like to come here. I’ve been coming here for a long time.’
‘When have you been to Omsk before?’
‘I’ve been everywhere. A lot of times.’
‘I didn’t know that.’
Mackie gave a meek smile. ‘I guess sometimes we don’t know people as well as we think.’
The second sly comment from Mackie in less than a minute. I let it go. I was more concerned about the fact that he knew this place so well. Did that add any more credibility to what Lena had told me?
‘Look, Logan,’ Mackie said, ‘we’re not going to stay here long, so why not cut to the chase. We need to get you out of Russia. We need to get you home.’
‘And then what?’
‘And then we can make sure you’re okay. Please don’t make things harder for yourself than they need to be. You must have been through hell already.’
‘And what would you know about that? Yes, I’ve been through hell. Three months of it. And where were you? What were you doing?’
‘It was out of my hands,’ Mackie said. He looked genuinely ashamed, but how much of it was an act? ‘There was really nothing else I could do. What would you have suggested? I go on a one-man mission to Siberia to break you out? We didn’t even know where they were keeping you.’
‘And what about those two?’ I said, nodding over towards Chris and Mary. They both looked up on cue. ‘They were right there, outside, waiting for me, whilst I was in there being tortured. They knew where I was and they just sat doing nothing. So don’t tell me nothing could have been done.’
‘It was out of my hands. We found you, but it was deemed too risky to try to break you out. That place was swarming with Russian agents and military. We could’ve lost two of our agents going after one.’
‘That’s what we do. That’s been my whole life. How many times have you sent me in with odds much worse than that?’
‘You’re twisting this. That’s not how it was.’
‘Why are those two worth more than me?’
‘They’re not. But they’re worth just as much. You know, you’re lucky Chris is all right. I heard about what you did to him. He’s got several stitches in his head from that clash. He should really still be in hospital. That’s testament to how much it means to us all to get you out of this.’
‘Hospital? Jesus, where do you get these guys from? All he had was a banged head. I’ve been held captive and tortured for three months! Do you even have the first idea of the things they did to me? So where’s my hospital treatment?’
Mackie looked embarrassed and bowed his head. ‘I’m so sorry, Logan,’ he said. ‘But there was nothing I could do. Believe me. We need to get you back now, though. You’ll get everything you need.’
‘No. What that means is that you’ll lock me up while you perform all your tests on me. That’s not too far removed from what the Russians have just done to me.’
‘Come on, man, it’s completely different and you know it.’
The waitress came back over with the coffee for Mackie. He gave her a less jolly smile this time and she walked off looking just a little uncomfortable. Mackie was looking flustered by the conversation, by the mood that was cast over us.
‘You know how these things work,’ Mackie said. ‘No-one is unbreakable, Logan. You’re my best man. We need to understand everything that’s happened to you, because we want to have you back out there working for us again. But that can’t happen until we know, until we understand, what happened to you.’
‘Just admit it,’ I snapped.
Mackie took a sip of his drink before answering. ‘Admit what?’
‘Admit that you don’t trust me.’
I’d hit on something. I’d known Mackie a long time. When cornered, his forehead creases over, making him look confused, like he’s deep in thought. Which he probably was: trying to figure out how he could deflect another question. I knew if I pushed harder he would blow. That was his style. But I wanted to get to the bottom of this.
‘It’s not that,’ was all he could say in the end.
‘What is it then?’
‘Just think about it. What would you have me do?’
‘Grovel to me? Say sorry for what you put me through? Tell me how you’re going to make it up to me? How about any of those?’
‘This is ridiculous,’ Mackie said, shifting in his seat.
‘You don’t trust me,’ I said again.
‘It’s not like that,’ he said, but it wasn’t even slightly convincing any more.
‘After everything I’ve done for you. The countless times I risked my own life. And now you don’t trust me.’
My words were forceful, angry. Confrontational. Mackie held his tongue. But I could tell he was getting hot under the collar. Gone were any remaining niceties. I wanted to see the real Mackie.
‘You don’t trust me,’ I said yet again, raising my voice. ‘You’re the one who left me to rot for three months. And now that I’m back, you want to get rid of me like I’m nothing to you.’
Mackie sat forward in his seat. When he spoke he was baring his teeth like an angry dog.
‘Well, Logan, that’s exactly it, isn’t it? You’ve been gone for three months. God knows what they’ve said and done to you in that time. And what about what you’ve said to them? How much information have you spilled about you, me, the agency? And then, all of a sudden, out of nowhere, you get out.’
‘All of a sudden? I was there for three months!’
‘You’re missing the point. You were held in an area so off our radar and so secure that in three months we were never certain whether you were even alive. And you got out of there all on your own. And after three months of captivity, do you contact us? Do you call me to tell me to come and get you? No, you run off to Omsk, doing your best to evade us and almost killing two of our agents in the process. So do I trust you? Right now? Hell, no. How could I?’
‘You think the Russians sent me here? You think they let me go?’
‘I haven’t ruled it out.’
‘And why would they do that?’ I said, recalling my conversations with Lena. What she had told me about the deal. The little extra that the Russians had added on top. About how they wanted me to kill Mackie.
‘Well, tell me, how did you escape?’ Mackie said.
‘You didn’t answer my question.’
‘Neither did you. And I’m not going to answer yours until you answer mine. So, tell me, how did you escape?’
‘Well, it wasn’t exactly a spur-of-the-moment thing,’ I said sarcastically. ‘It took
me three months to get the opportunity.’
‘And then what? One day they just opened the door for you?’
The energy of the conversation had shifted. Now it was my turn to be on the defensive. Because I didn’t want to take my mind back to that place. I didn’t want to put myself back in that cell, remember what it had been like.
Since my escape, I’d tried my hardest not to think about it. But your subconscious has ways of planting these thoughts in your head. I closed my eyes, just for a second, squeezing them shut, hoping that the memories, the smells, the pain and aches in my body would go away. But with my eyes shut it only became worse. All of a sudden I found myself back there again. Gone was the smell of coffee and hot milk, replaced by the smell of sour urine, faeces, blood and burning flesh. The darkness, the dank cell and the sounds of the guards’ boots on the cold stone floor.
I opened my eyes and it all disappeared. But putting myself back there had knocked me.
‘I overpowered the guards,’ I said, wanting more than anything to just get off the subject. ‘I’d been building up to it for days. I killed two getting out, another two on my way to Taishet. What more do you want me to say?’
‘And they just let you do all that, without stopping you?’ Mackie said, oblivious to the turmoil inside me. ‘I mean, I know you’re good, but are you really that good?’
‘So what do you think happened?’ I said, though I could understand his doubt. I had myself doubted the means of my escape. How it had all unfolded. Had it been too easy?
‘Well, I’m finding it hard to believe they’d be stupid enough to just let you break out of there. So either they just let you go and you’re lying to me right now, or they allowed you to escape. Put on a bit of a show for you.’
‘And you still wouldn’t trust me, even if it was the latter.’
‘No. Because either way, they let you go for a reason. Perhaps you don’t know the reason, in which case I’ll apologise in due course. But whatever that reason is, I can guarantee you it won’t be for our benefit.’
And yet I did know the reason: they wanted me to kill Mackie.
‘When you say our benefit, I presume you’re excluding me?’ I said.
‘Right now, of course I am. Don’t you see why?’
‘I’m not sure what I see any more.’
‘Just come back home,’ Mackie said, his voice softer.
‘I can’t. I won’t be locked up any more.’
‘We’re not locking you up. We just need to understand what happened.’
‘That’s not how it would work. I’m not that naive.’
‘Your reluctance to come with me doesn’t look good, you know. You being so scared that we’re going to lock you away. Why is that, Logan? What did you tell them?’
And therein was a big problem. I didn’t know what I’d told the Russians. Told Lena. I couldn’t remember. But I did know that I’d talked.
I’d talked a lot.
I’d told Lena things that I’d never told another human being. I may not have known that I was doing it, but I did. It happened. And there was no way I could take it back now. But how could I ever tell anyone? I couldn’t.
I’d never been broken before. And I was scared. I had given away so much information. If Mackie or others at the agency ever found out, how could I blame them if they wanted to lock me up and throw away the key? Or just get rid of me permanently like they’d had me do to others in the past?
And I was ashamed. I was ashamed because after the lost days, I hadn’t stopped talking. Every day that I was in that room with Lena I’d carried on. I talked to Lena. Told her about myself. And deep down I’d enjoyed the conversations. During that period, those conversations gave me something to live for. I knew that had always been Lena’s intention. But I hadn’t been able to stop myself. In the end I had wanted to tell her things. I had wanted to answer her questions.
And, in turn, I had listened to what she had to say. About me. About the agency. About Mackie. About my ill-fated mission and the real reason I’d been sent to Russia.
But I wasn’t about to talk to Mackie about any of that. I couldn’t even begin to tell the story. Instead, my mind was filled with Lena’s words. If what she’d told me was true then it changed everything. They wanted me to kill Mackie. Just one act and then I’d be free; that’s what she’d said. At the time it wasn’t even imaginable. But the situation had changed. The conversation with Mackie had already told me that much.
And I was no longer sure that we’d both be walking out of that café alive.
Chapter 30
I hadn’t seen Lena for three days. Not since she’d tried to persuade me to kill Mackie. My point-blank refusal had hidden the turmoil in my head. I may not have agreed to her request, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t at least considering the idea. If what she’d told me was true then didn’t Mackie have it coming?
No, I couldn’t think like that. Mackie was still the same man he’d always been. My friend. About the closest thing to a father I’d ever had. There had to be another explanation for why the raid on RTK had gone wrong. And why no-one had come for me in the three months since my capture.
What I found most puzzling now was the sudden disappearance of Lena. For the last three days I hadn’t been out of my cell at all. I’d been brought food three times daily. They were certainly still feeding me well. But where had Lena gone? What were they planning to do with me now they’d finally shown their hand and I’d declined their offer? I didn’t know. But the change in routine worried me. If I wasn’t going to help them I was expendable. The whole charade over the last three months had been building to this point. Maybe they really thought they’d done enough to persuade me and couldn’t understand my continued resistance. And if I continued to refuse then my days were numbered. At the very least, the days of comparatively good treatment would be over.
So I had to take action.
In the initial period of my captivity escape was unthinkable. I’d been so physically weak, so depleted by the lack of nourishment and the physical abuse, that my brain hadn’t even been able to process a likely scenario. But I was physically and mentally stronger now. I was in a different cell. And because I was now casually walked from my cell to the interrogation room and other areas of the compound, I’d seen much more of the inner layout of where I was being housed. And I knew that each of those factors increased my chances of escape.
The problem was that I hadn’t been out of the cell since the last time I’d seen Lena. And the male guards who watched over me would pass me food through a slit in the locked door. So the door hadn’t even been opened during that time. If the situation stayed like this then the only option I had was to either try to attack a guard as he passed me my food or trick them into opening the door, perhaps feigning ill health or some other ploy.
Maybe I could just ask to go and see Lena. Their response to the question would at least be interesting.
I was still contemplating the various less-than-perfect options when without warning I heard the heavy lock of the cell door churning. A few seconds later the thick metal door swung open. Two guards stood in the doorway. One was armed, holding his weapon, an automatic machine gun. The other man was empty handed. Without saying a word to me, he raised his hand and ushered me over.
In the early days they’d shot me with tranquiliser darts each time they wanted to move me. That had not only added to my sense of disorientation but had also made it impossible for me to attack them. Their changing treatment of me had coincided with the start of the sessions with Lena. Just one of numerous small signs of trust that had been put in place to help win me over.
It hadn’t worked. I hadn’t been won over. Not yet.
I walked out, blinking in the bright light. The man who’d opened the door for me had already turned and was ahead of me. I followed him down the long, narrow corridor. The grey concrete walls were shiny and soulless. We walked past other cells, doors closed as always, no signs of any life beyond the
m.
The man brandishing the machine gun kept pace two yards behind me. After twelve strides we rounded the corner to the right and another man appeared, also with his weapon drawn, and began to follow alongside the man at my rear.
This was different. I hadn’t had three men with me before, normally just two.
And then something else unexpected happened. Where normally we would turn left, we carried straight on, through a doorway that had always in the past been locked with no sign of what lay beyond it.
The unfamiliar routine was making me nervous.
Was this finally the end for me? Were they leading me to my death?
My nerves were shot to pieces. Even though the men had barely spoken I could sense a sinister air about the whole setup. It reminded me of a movie scene of a death row inmate being marched away from his cell one last time.
And yet I carried on, walking with them, because despite the sense of dread I was feeling I was also intrigued as to what was about to happen.
We took more turns down corridors and passed through rooms that I’d never seen before. Finally we came to a stop in a large but almost entirely empty room, probably about twenty-by-twenty-feet square. A simple wooden chair, placed awkwardly in the centre, was the only furniture in the sparse space.
‘Please sit down,’ one of the guards said.
I didn’t.
‘Please sit down,’ the man said again. ‘She’ll be here shortly.’
I took ‘she’ to mean Lena.
The man who’d led stood by the chair. The other two men positioned themselves around me, one by the door, the other off to my right. The one by the door peered out into the corridor, not really paying attention to me. The other pointed his gun toward my chest, but he was holding it casually as though he wasn’t really intending to use it. Which could only mean one thing: they weren’t planning on killing me yet. But that really didn’t make me feel any better. Not when I’d already seen first-hand what else they were capable of.
I looked around, my eyes darting from left to right, my brain whirring, trying to come up with possibilities of how I could get out of what was surely my intended execution.