SPY: His Mission. His Orders. His Promise.

by Maggie Carpenter

  "How was your copter ride?"

  "Fine. Noisy. You'd think by now there'd be a helicopter that didn't make you feel like you're in the middle of a tornado."

  "You should invent it. You're smart enough to do something like that."

  "Aeronautics isn't my bag."

  "What is your bag, Andrei?"

  "You know the answer to that. Computers. Cyberspace. It's an explorable universe and I speak the language."

  "I suppose it is. I'd never thought of it in those terms."

  "Do you think Victor is going to survive this?" Andy asked, tilting his head to the side as he watched the boat glide across the water. "Why did Oleg come all the way here to pick up the artifact? He could have had Victor deliver it to him. What's this all about, Taylor? Do you know? And why did he want us here?"

  "No idea. He hired me to keep my eye on Victor at the exhibition and keep track of that relic, just the way he hired you to watch him with your cameras and bugs. Thanks for leaving that vial at the Vegas house by the way."

  "No problem. I didn't need it. I figured Leo would put you in that room."

  "How did you get away from Oliver and his people?"

  "Walked out the front door. Said I needed some air. Oleg sure is playing an interesting chess game. There's more to it than just picking up an old piece of Rome. I've never felt more like a pawn than I did in Vegas. Something big is going down."

  "We'll find out soon enough. He'll be here in about forty-five minutes."

  "I'm going to fix myself something to eat, and I'll put something together for Oleg. Maybe a tray with some toast and caviar. You want anything?"

  "No thanks. Victor just docked. I wonder what he'll say when he sees us."

  "That's a no-brainer. What the fuck are you doing here? Those will be the first words out of his mouth."

  "You're right."

  "What will you say to him?"

  "Oleg ordered me here. What else?"

  "I think you should say something like, I'm taking the relic. Mess with him. It's fun."

  "Damn, Andy, you're scary sometimes."

  Smiling at her, he walked away, but as he left the room he looked back at her over his shoulder.

  "Taylor, you don't know the half of it," he mumbled under his breath, "but you're about to."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  It was dark. The crescent moon was barely a sliver, and hidden behind a row of bushes a short distance from Victor's gate, Oliver, Natalie and the two MI5 agents were anxiously waiting for Oleg's car to arrive. When Oliver's phone vibrated, all eyes were on him as he read the text.

  Oleg's ETA two minutes. Cameras still in our control.

  "Two minutes," Oliver repeated. "Cameras are still with us."

  As the elegant German vehicle came into view they hunkered down, but the moment it passed, staying low, Oliver and Natalie moved quickly from their hiding place and followed it up to the gate. The car paused as the driver punched in the access code, and as the tall gates opened and the luxury vehicle drove forward, they stayed with it, ducking into the shrubbery at the side of the house as it continued forward to stop outside the front door.

  Receiving Oliver's text that he and Natalie were safely in position, Freddy and Gus stepped from the bushes, raised their revolvers, and with silencers attached, they shot out the cameras. If there were security guards on the property watching the monitors, when the cameras fell dead they'd be out in seconds. Darting behind the wide stone pillars the agents waited for the sound of running feet and cries of alarm. Seconds ticked by with no response, and sprinting quickly through the open gate, they skirted the wall until they reached the cover of the trees and were able to text Oliver.

  Cameras down. You were right. Zero response. We're in.

  "I knew it. Victor's here alone," Oliver whispered.

  "Why would he not have guards?"

  "Because he thinks no-one knows he's here, and he's turning around and going right back to LA. I'm going to risk a quick look."

  As he slowly raised his head to peer through the window, Natalie was watching the stocky driver open the back door of the Mercedes for Oleg. As the brawny Russian gangster stepped out, Victor appeared from the front door to greet him, and a moment later, a tall, powerfully built man climbed from the front passenger seat. He stood for a moment, then began walking around, studying his surroundings.

  "Taylor's in there," Oliver whispered, ducking back down. "I wonder if Andy is in the house as well."

  "That would be very disappointing," Natalie murmured, "but it's too distracting to think about. In addition to the driver, there's another guy that looks like a body builder."

  Looking back towards the car, they saw the brawny man follow Oleg into the house, and the driver slip back behind the wheel. Oliver popped his head up to look back into the front room, but to his dismay Taylor was gone and the room was empty.

  "They're meeting somewhere else in the house," he said softly. "We'll have to find them."

  "It won't be upstairs."

  "How can you be sure?"

  "It's a manor house. That's where the bedrooms are."

  "Oh, right," Oliver said sheepishly. "Are you ready?"

  "Sure. Let's go hunt for the bad people."

  "I need to give Freddy and Gus their marching orders," he said, quickly shooting off a text.

  The driver is in the car. Bodyguard's in the house with Oleg. Going in. Good luck.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  A little while earlier, as Victor was returning to the house in his dinghy, he'd spied the silver Volvo in the driveway. Only a handful of people had the gate code, and anxiously keeping his eye on the house as he'd docked, afraid to leave the crate behind and afraid to take it with him, gripping it tightly, heart racing, he'd walked cautiously inside.

  When he'd discovered both Taylor and Andy waiting he'd been greatly relieved, but his relief quickly turned to alarm when they'd told him Oleg had summoned them there. It was a shocking revelation. They'd both been working for Oleg! What did it mean? Deeply worried, still carrying the crate he'd hurried up to his bedroom, checked on Xavier, then showered and changed. When he'd moved back downstairs and entered his study, he'd found Andy had prepared some canapés and set out a decanter of vodka and shot glasses. It was only minutes later that Oleg had arrived, and he was now staring down at the priceless artifact.

  "There you go, Oleg," Victor declared, in a barely controlled state of panic. "Like a precious baby resting in plush blankets safe and sound."

  "Pick it up and turn it around."

  Heart thumping, Victor lifted it carefully from the packing and held it up with its back towards Oleg. A black dot was clearly visible.

  "Put it back and secure the lid."

  While Taylor had been watching Oleg and Victor from a leather chesterfield couch, Andy had been standing quietly in the corner of the room, and stepping across to the drinks cabinet, he poured the vodka into the shot glasses.

  "Canapés first, or a drink?" he asked, looking directly at Oleg.

  Taylor could feel Victor's crackling nerves. They were contagious. She needed a shot, and rising to her feet she moved across to join Andy.

  "I don't know about anyone else but I want a drink," she exclaimed, grabbing a glass and downing it in one gulp, then picking up a caviar-laden cracker she popped it in her mouth.

  Grunting, Oleg ambled across, munched on a canapé, then downed a shot.

  "Victor," Andy said, picking up a glass and walking it over to him. "I think you could use this too."

  "Yeah. Thanks, Andrei," he mumbled, accepting it and throwing it back.

  "Do you want some caviar?"

  "Since it's out," he muttered, and moving across to join Oleg and Taylor, he dropped a cracker into his mouth and followed it with another.

  "A toast," Taylor declared, refilling the glasses. "To the safe delivery of the artifact. It was troublesome at times but it's finally here. Andy? Aren't you having any?"

  "I have my
beer," he said, and lifting his bottle in the air he added, "Here's to the artifact."

  He took a swig as the others downed their vodka, then Oleg turned to the thug hovering at the door.

  "Nicolai, take care of that other matter."

  Wordlessly the burly man left the room, and Victor felt a sudden pain in his gut. He was desperate to know what the other matter was but he was too afraid to ask.

  "Victor, I'm afraid I have some bad news," Oleg declared, moving to the window and gazing out at the dark night.

  Swallowing hard, Victor prepared himself. It could be anything.

  "Andrei will be coming back to work for me, and Taylor will be taking your place. I no longer wish to be associated with you."

  Victor wanted to jump for joy. He was free of the ruthless gangster, but as Oleg turned around, Victor felt an icy hand wrap around his heart and squeeze.

  Oleg was holding a gun.

  "Don't shoot me! I'll disappear, I swear."

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  While Oleg had been holding court in Victor's study, Gus had climbed into the front passenger seat of Oleg's car, punched the driver in the gut and handcuffed him. Leaving the winded man behind the wheel and moving into the back seat, he was hidden by the heavily tinted windows. His orders were to stay in place, keep the driver quiet, and to restrain Oleg in the event he got away from Oliver. Freddy had made his way to the empty stables and gardening sheds in search of possible employees, victims, or anyone else who happened to be on the estate.

  Oliver and Natalie had crept into the house, and had moved silently through the maze of hallways searching for Oleg, Victor, and Taylor. Oliver had been on the verge of suggesting they split up when they heard voices. Though they couldn't discern what was being said, as they'd neared they'd realized not only were Oleg, Victor and Taylor together, Andy was with them! They'd shared a glance of surprise, but moments later they had to dart out of sight. Oleg's henchman had suddenly walked into the hallway and marched off towards the front of the house.

  Oliver had been caught in a quandary. Should he follow him, or should Natalie?

  Before he could decide, she was on her way, moving swiftly after the beast of a man like a prowling cat. It had been the right decision. Oliver needed to stay close to Oleg and Victor, but he wasn't happy. She should have waited for his okay. Returning his focus to the group in the study he moved cautiously up to the half-open door, but he was suddenly jolted by an almighty crash, quickly followed by another just as his phone buzzed. Worried it might be Natalie he yanked it from his pocket and stared at the screen.

  Oleg about to shoot Victor. In room near back of house.

  Raising his gun and extending it out in front his body, he kicked open the door and charged into the room.

  "NOBODY MOVE!"

  The command had left his lips before his eyes had taken in what was before him, and he stared at the scene in astonishment.

  Having crashed into a pedestal holding a large Chinese urn, Oleg was in a heap on the floor surrounded by broken porcelain. Victor had fallen into the drinks cabinet, taking many of the bottles with him, and sprawled nearby, unmoving and almost elegantly posed, was Taylor Manning.

  "What the—"

  "This is my thank you gift," Andy declared, cutting him off as he stepped from the shadows. "Don't worry, they're not dead, but they'll be out of it for a couple of hours."

  "Andy, what's going on with you, where—?"

  "Sorry, I have something important to do in the vault," he exclaimed, cutting him off as he hurried towards the door. "Meet me there, I'll leave it open. A second boat is tied up near the shore. You can't see it until you're right at the dock, but it's there."

  "Where's Oleg's bodyguard?"

  "I think he's looking for Xavier. Turn left at the top of the stairs, last bedroom on the right."

  As Andy disappeared through a side door, Oliver hurriedly placed the fake plans in the crate, removed the camera and tracker, then bolted from the room and down the hall to the stairs.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Natalie had lost her prey. When she'd reached the landing there was no sign of him. Holding her revolver upright, she could feel her MI5 training kick into gear, and choosing to turn left she began walking slowly down the hall, pressing her ear to each door she passed.

  "Halt."

  The barrel of a gun was against the back of her neck. She froze, but not because of the command. Fear had gripped her and she literally couldn't move. A second later she watched in stupefied silence as large fingers wrapped themselves around her weapon and lifted it from her grasp.

  "Hands behind head. Move."

  The deep voice was heavily accented and gruff, and unsteadily walking forward she tried to engage her brain. What did she learn in the training?

  Stay calm. Do whatever the gunman says until an opportunity presents itself.

  Taking a deep breath she fought her growing terror, and shifting her focus on to him, she realized he was opening the doors behind her. He was obviously hunting. They were nearing the end of the hall, and slightly turning her head she saw him frown as he checked the last room.

  "In," he grunted, shoving her forward.

  Stumbling inside she saw Xavier sitting in bed reading a magazine. As he let out a frightened squeal the thug pushed her to the floor, but as she landed her phone dug into her hip, and she suddenly knew what to do. Pulse racing, as she shifted around to face him she slipped her hand in her pocked, and wrapping her fingers around the phone she pressed a tiny button in the corner.

  A ringtone sounded.

  "Give me phone," the goon growled, gesturing with his long, thick fingers. "Come. Give to me."

  Heart in her mouth she slowly pulled it out, extended her arm and offered it to him.

  "Here you go," she said timidly. "Please don't hurt me."

  Her voice had sounded like that of a frightened child, but she was thinking like a seasoned agent. As he reached to take it she pressed a triangular-shaped button on the side. A bright red beam shot from the end of the phone lighting up his crotch. As the vile smell of burning flesh filled the room, the monster let out an unholy wail—and his revolver fired.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Half-way down the hall Oliver heard the demonic howl and the gun shot. Mortified that something had happened to Natalie he sprinted forward and burst through the door. In a split second he saw the huge gangster lying on the floor in a crumpled heat, then Natalie perched on the edge of the bed holding her phone. Racing to her side he dropped beside her and pulled her into his arms.

  "My beautiful girl, are you all right?"

  "I couldn't save Xavier but I got the monster."

  "Are you sure you're okay?" he repeated, pulling back and studying her face.

  "So much so it's almost scary. What's happening downstairs?"

  "Long story," he replied, then shifting his gaze to Xavier, he leaned over the bed and placed his fingers on the side of his neck. "He's history."

  "What now? Where's Andy?"

  "I'll tell you on the way across the lake."

  "The lake? We're going to the vault?"

  "Like I said, it's a long story. Let's go."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Moving slowly around the silent vault, Andy was in awe of the many treasures, but he couldn't allow himself to be distracted. The most logical place to find what he was looking for was a desk, and spying the magnificent inlaid antique secretary near the back wall he quickened his pace. As he approached he not only saw the maroon leather notebook, he discovered the bookcase behind it boasting many more just like it.

  Picking it up he scanned the pages, and a rare smile crossed his lips. He'd found the priceless bounty! But he didn't have a moment to lose. Carrying several books at a time he hurried them up the stairs to the folly and wrapped them inside heavy black garbage bags. Hearing the arrival of the dingy he moved quickly outside, and relieved to see Oliver and Natalie on the dock, he waited anxiously as they
started up the gentle slope.

  "You have to come quickly," he called urgently, waving at them as they neared. "I must talk to you before this place is crawling with agents and police and whoever else is going to show up."

  "You have a lot of explaining to do," Oliver said soberly as they reached him.

  "I know, I know," Andy said excitedly, leading them inside, "but first you have to listen."

  "I'm so glad you're okay," Natalie declared. "You have no idea how confused and worried I've been."

  "I'm sorry about that. It was unavoidable, but please, you must listen to me. For thirty-years Victor has kept a diary."

  "That has to be one heck of a big book," Natalie muttered.

  "Natalie, this is no joke," Oliver said solemnly, the gravity of what Andy had just said sending a deep frown across his brow. "Keep going, Andy."

  "There are over forty volumes. They have names, places, dates, where the bodies are buries, the drug networks, everything."

  Feeling a surge of heat pulse through his body, Oliver abruptly sat down, but Natalie remained standing, staring at Andy in disbelief. It was almost too much to process.

  "Exactly!" Andy exclaimed, recognizing their bolt of comprehension. "They're in those trash bags. You can't let any government authority get hold of them. You can't let anyone get hold of them. There are politicians galore in those pages, and not just politicians. High-ranking law-enforcement officials, powerful businessmen, power brokers at MI5 and MI6, the CIA, the FBI, everywhere. Oliver, it's even possible your organization may have been infiltrated. You won't know until you read them yourself."

  "Who else knows they exist?" Oliver asked, his mind racing at the extraordinary implications.