SPY: His Mission. His Orders. His Promise.

by Maggie Carpenter

  "I'll bet this leads to Victor's front gates," Oliver remarked. "I'm going to follow it."

  "I have the aerial photos Thomas showed us," Natalie said, pulling her phone from her bag and bringing up the images. "Yes, it does, but it also bends off to the left and takes you to the estate next door."

  "We need to drive down there as well, but look, there are the gates, and see the cameras. Huh. That's interesting."

  "What?"

  "There are two, one on either side, but they appear to be stationary. I'm going to drive up and I'll bet they won't move."

  "How can you tell?"

  "Experience. They're older models and the base doesn't appear to have a pivot ball."

  "Won't we be recognized?"

  "I seriously doubt Victor is watching the monitors, and whoever is will barely be able to see us from that high angle anyway."

  As he rolled slowly forward his theory was proved correct. The cameras were static, and immediately reversing to the split in the road, he followed it to the neighboring property.

  "I'm very surprised," Natalie said. "Why wouldn't he have something state-of-the art?"

  "Hard to say. Probably can't afford it."

  "Yes, I'm sure that's it. The poor guy is poverty-stricken!" she said, rolling her eyes.

  "Ah, this looks more promising," Oliver declared as the road ended at the gates of the adjacent property. "Look at the wall separating the two lots. It's lined with a row of trees on each side, not some thick forest, and we can park in there," he continued, pointing at a small thicket. "I'm not seeing any cameras but there might some in the trees. Regardless, this is much more appealing. Yes, this is our entry point. We're going back to the hotel. I want to study those aerial shots."

  "What about reaching the lake?"

  "That's why I want to look at those photographs. I'll call Thomas when we get back," he said as be began driving away, but as they neared the junction where the road split and led up to Victor's home or back down to the road, they saw a silver Volvo approaching.

  "Get me the binoculars," Oliver said, quickly pulling to a stop under a clump of trees for cover.

  Hastily grabbing them she handed them over, and Oliver raised them to his eyes just as the car passed and drove up to Victor's gate.

  "Bloody hell!" he exclaimed. "It's Taylor Manning."

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Oliver drove speedily back to Buckland Manor. Had Victor called Taylor to his estate? Had her capture scared her? Did she want to hide out for a while? Hurrying up to their room, he was about to call Thomas when Thomas called him.

  "Thomas, I was just about to ring you."

  "Hello, Oliver. Father is on the line. He'll talk to you when I've finished filling you in. Is Natalie with you?"

  "She's right beside me."

  "Prepare yourselves. I have some disturbing news."

  "I already know."

  "How?"

  "I saw her driving up to Victor's house," Oliver replied. "I thought I was seeing things."

  "Who are you talking about?"

  "Taylor Manning."

  "Taylor Manning? You saw Taylor Manning?"

  "Isn't that what you were calling to tell me?"

  "No. When was this?"

  "About fifteen minutes ago. We just got back to the hotel. Are you saying you didn't know about Taylor?"

  "Absolutely not. This is compelling news given what I have to tell you. It's about Andy."

  "What about him?" Oliver asked, a sudden sick feeling in his stomach.

  "He was able to access Victor's security system. Stephen was amazed."

  "You had Stephen sitting with him? He's out best guy."

  "He is, and apparently Andy uses a technique he'd never seen before."

  "That's great news. Why did you say it was disturbing?"

  "Andy left to go to the bathroom and never returned. He's gone."

  "WHAT?"

  "How can that be?" Natalie exclaimed. "Why would he do that?"

  "You tell me, but he delivered. We can hijack the system whenever we need to. Now I'll turn you over to Father."

  "Oliver, I'm very concerned," Father said gravely. "Taylor was being kept in the room Andy had been using at the house in Vegas."

  "Yes, Father, I know."

  "Let me finish. He's the only one who could have left the knockout drugs for Taylor. Leo searched her before he left her there."

  "Everywhere?" Oliver asked pointedly.

  "Uh, Oliver, I'm concerned we may have been given access so you'll walk into an ambush."

  "Are you saying you think Andy has set me up?"

  "I'm saying it's a possibility that must be considered."

  "Do you want me to abort?"

  "No. I've been in touch with your old boss at MI5 and he's agreed to provide support. We're turning Oleg and Victor over to them so it's in their interest to help us. But, Oliver, it appears this mission could be more dangerous than we anticipated. I know you like to work alone, but I insist you have others on the ground."

  "Two guys, no more, and what did you have to promise in exchange? It must have been more than making sure Oleg and Victor made it out in one piece."

  "The artifact."

  "You mean the plans?"

  "Exactly, but they don't know about the microdot."

  "Wasn't Nigel skeptical? It's not like you to surrender something so valuable, and how will this work? There'll be nothing for them to find."

  "I made it tough for him to convince me, and there will be plans at the bottom of the crate. A courier is already on his way to Buckland Manor. They're convincing enough to have the scientists chasing their tails for some time. You just have to find a way to put them in place."

  "Very clever, Father. I'll take care of it, but I have to figure out how to get into that damn vault first."

  "Oliver, I have some excellent news on that front," Thomas interjected. "That camera you managed to put in the crate has paid off. You open the entrance by pulling on a wall sconce. It's quite difficult apparently. Victor was cursing it and the audio on the camera picked it up, but there's one thing you need to know. It makes a loud grinding noise when it opens."

  "Good to know. Our MI5 friends can go down first," Oliver said with a chuckle. "When will they be here?"

  "They'll head off as soon as I give Nigel the green light. One last thing. Don't forget to remove that camera and tracking device from the crate. If they're found, Nigel will know that's how tracked the relic and it will bring the fake plans into question."

  "I'll make sure of it."

  "If I don't speak to you, good luck."

  "Thank you, Father."

  "About Andy," Thomas said solemnly. "You'll be my first call if I hear anything."

  "Thanks, Thomas. I hope he just wanted to take a walk."

  "We all do. Bye, Oliver."

  "Bye, Thomas."

  As Oliver ended the call, Natalie leaned back against the sofa and shook her head.

  "I don't believe it. Why would Andy do that?"

  "I can't make sense if of it," Oliver muttered. "All we can do is forge ahead."

  "OH!"

  "What?"

  "I remember, I remember that thing that was wrong."

  "Tell me."

  "This may be nothing, but Andy was supposedly hurt about what happened with his mother, but he never asked us if he could contact her, or showed any concern about never seeing her again. Don't you think that's odd?"

  "He's angry with her and holding a grudge."

  "But doesn't he strike you as a sensitive soul? A sensitive soul wouldn't walk away so easily."

  "Hmmm. Interesting."

  "Maybe I'm reading too much into it, but that's what it was. Whew. I'm so glad I remembered. It was driving me nuts."

  "Listen, Natalie…"

  "Why do I get the feeling you're about to say something I don't want to hear?"

  "Taylor escaping then showing up here, Andy working his magic then disappearing, and now you po
inting out a possible contradiction in his character…it smells bad."

  "What are you getting at?"

  "I'm sorry, Natalie, but it's too dangerous. You can't come."

  She didn't respond, but slowly rising to her feet she walked across the room and gazed out the window.

  "Natalie?"

  "You can't do this," she said, her voice low as she turned and face him. "You said I was your partner. You promised you'd never leave me behind. You promised, Oliver. Doesn't your word count anymore? Have you become like everyone else? Make promises then break them when they become inconvenient?"

  "I'm just worried about you."

  "Weren't you worried about me when you made the promise?"

  "Uh…the threat level was different."

  "That's just bullshit."

  "Natalie, I don't want anything to happen to you."

  "Apparently you need a new partner, one you have confidence in," she said calmly as she started towards the door. "Someone more experienced, someone you think is up to the task. Obviously that's not me," she finished, and without looking back she left the room.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Sitting at a table in one of the lounges, Natalie had ordered a pot of tea and a plate of scones. When she spied Oliver standing at the entrance and scanning the room wearing a heavy frown, she realized she'd left without her phone. Raising her arm she caught his attention, and seeing the relief cross his face she watched him walk quickly across the room to join her.

  "Mind if I sit down?"

  "I wish you would. Sorry. It wasn't my intention to worry you. That's not something you need any help with."

  "Yes, about that," he began, "you were right about everything. Of course I want you to be my partner and I have total confidence in you. You're amazing. I'm embarrassed to admit I suffered through a bit of a panic."

  "You? Panic?"

  "I love you," he said earnestly, leaning across the table, "but I have to learn how to…"

  "To what?"

  "I don't even know," he muttered. "I can't stop being in love with you because we're working."

  "I worry about you too, but we both know the risks, though you better than me of course."

  "You're right, and I'll do my best to control my desire to wrap you in cotton and lock you away in a tower to keep you safe."

  The thought made her break into a smile, and as the waitress arrived with their tea and scones, Oliver began to chuckle.

  "What's funny?" Natalie asked as she left.

  "I'm not even sure. I just felt like laughing. Maybe I'm just happy."

  "Or maybe you're losing it, Barton."

  "I think I already have, and I'm dying for a cup of tea. May I have the honor of pouring?"

  "Please do, and I'll cream up some scones, though I probably won't want any dinner after this."

  "I rarely eat before an operation."

  "But it's not until tomorrow, right?"

  "He could surprise us and come back before then. One never knows about these things, and waiting is the hardest part."

  "What can we do to help pass the time?" she said, shooting him a suggestive wink.

  "Not that!" he said firmly. "We need to be ready to bolt. When we finish this very late afternoon tea, we'll return to the room and I'll make sure you know how to use that phone."

  "Boring," she quipped, rolling her eyes.

  "Do you really want to burn off your toe with a laser?"

  "Point taken."

  "Good, now drink your tea and behave."

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Inside a dilapidated warehouse in Peckham, a suburb known for its violent crime, Oleg Brovko had just finished terrorizing a group of hardened drug dealers. As they'd looked on, he had supervised the torture of the man who had betrayed him. Spider's death had been slow and brutal, and everyone knew his wife had been spared the same suffering only because she'd escaped through a bathroom window when they'd charged through her door. As Spider let out his last breath, Oleg didn't need to study the faces of the men who had been forced to witness his justice. He could smell their fear.

  "Rocket! Where are you?" he called, his narrowed eyes searching the mob. "Come over here."

  Walking nervously through the crowd and stepping cautiously around Spider's bloody, lifeless body, Rocket stopped a few yards from the formidable Russian kingpin.

  "This man, this is a real man," Oleg exclaimed, pointing at Rocket. "He's not a spineless cocksucker like that worthless piece of cow dung on the ground," then pulling a fat envelope from his inside breast pocket, he held it out. "Come over here. This is for you."

  Stepping forward, Rocket cautiously accepted the envelope, but Oleg suddenly grabbed his shirt and yanked him into his massive body.

  "You have earned my respect. If you need anything call the number in the envelope."

  "Thank you, Mr. Brovko," Rocket said, trying to control the quaking in his voice. "I'm honored and grateful."

  "Rocket is now in charge," Oleg proclaimed, releasing him. "Serving him is serving me. Be smart on the street, watch your back when you sell the product, and you'll make a shitload of cash, and make sure you give that slimy motherfucker an acid bath."

  As he turned around and strode to his car he could feel their eyes on his back. They wanted his money, they wanted his power, his life, everything he had, and they wanted to kill him, but none of them had the balls. The large metal warehouse door was rolled up, and the Mercedes drove into the alley.

  "Where to Mr. Brokvo?"

  "Pichenko's. It's time to take care of that piece of shit and his cock-sucking boyfriend," he said brusquely. "Put up the privacy screen."

  As the burled walnut panel slid into place, he pulled out his phone and placed a call to Victor.

  "Oleg, how are you?"

  "I'll be there in ninety minutes, depending on the fucking English traffic."

  "Would you like me to arrange a helicopter?"

  "NO. I'm done with those damn things. Is the artifact still safe?"

  "I haven't let it out of my sight since I left Las Vegas."

  "The dot's still in place?"

  "It is," Victor said, nervously reaching for the relic and turning it around. "I'm looking at it."

  "Bring it to the house."

  "You want to meet at the house?"

  "Isn't that what I just said?"

  "I thought you wanted to take possession of the dot in the vault for security reasons."

  "I'm in a hurry. I'm not wasting time crossing that fucking lake."

  "I'll be in the house and I'll see you in about ninety minutes," Victor said hastily.

  "What's the gate code?"

  "The gate code? Uh, 2006."

  Abruptly ending the call, Oleg opened the drinks cabinet and reached for the vodka. Unscrewing the lid he took a large swig, then let out a grunt.

  "Victor fucking Pichenko," he grunted. "You love your fucking lake? You can spend eternity in it!"

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Oliver and Natalie had just finished their tea and scones when Oliver's phone vibrated. Cell phone conversations weren't permitted in the lounge, and pulling it from his pocket he hurried outside. The sun was low in the sky, the shadows were long, and as he answered the call he instinctively knew what he was he was about to hear.

  "Oliver, the audio in the camera delivered again. Oleg will be at Victor's in ninety minutes, and they're meeting in the house, not the vault. Even better, we have the gate code. It's 2006."

  "It was Andy's idea to put that camera in the crate. He's a genius even when he's not trying."

  "I wish we knew why he bolted and where he went," Thomas said with a frustrated sigh. "The guy deserves a medal."

  "Ninety minutes," Oliver muttered. "It's last minute but we'll have a dark night on our side. What about my old friends? Do we need to copter them in?"

  "They're already on the road. They'll probably beat Oleg by about twenty minutes."

  "Who's coming? Do you know their n
ames?"

  "Freddy and Gus. That's what they're calling themselves."

  "I know Freddy, but Gus doesn't ring a bell. Text me their number. I didn't ask you earlier, but are there cameras on that west wall by the neighbor's house?"

  "Aren't you going in the gate?"

  "I'm not sure. Are there cameras there?"

  "Four, but you don't need to worry about them. Thanks to Andy, Stephen knows how to control them."

  "If Father's right and Andy has played us, he'll know how to bring them back online and lock Stephen out. He could be sitting a room somewhere right now watching everything."

  "Damn. I'm embarrassed. You're absolutely right."

  "I'm going to worry about those cameras because I have to assume there could be a problem."

  "Got it. Are you ready? I'll give you their locations."

  "I'm standing in the driveway of the hotel. I'll go back to my room and ring you from there."

  "Oliver? What's the matter?" Natalie asked, walking up as he ended the call.

  "Oleg is on his way, and he's not meeting Victor in the vault. He's meeting him in the house."

  "That's fantastic."

  "It makes things easer, at least I hope so, but we need to get back upstairs," he said urgently, starting back towards the steps. "Thomas has to give me some information, then I have to call our support agents. They have a twenty-minute head start on Oleg and that's not much," then suddenly pausing his step he exclaimed, "That's how we're going to do this. Oleg! That's how we're going to get on the property."

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Standing at the window of the luxurious drawing room in Victor's manor, Taylor Manning was watching him climb into the small boat across the lake. She shook her head in disgust. Instead of placing the crate in a case and carrying it, he had it tucked under his arm.

  "You're such a fucking moron," she muttered. "Why did Oleg ever give you such an important assignment?"

  "Made no sense to me either," Andy remarked, walking up to join her. "Victor's a buffoon."