Shadow Conflict

by Shadow Conflict (epub)

  The coffee shop he was approaching had once been named Café Adler – a legendary haunt for hard-bitten journalists, unscrupulous diplomats, and even the odd spy, if the rumours were to be believed. A dangerous place, an exciting place; a place that made one feel alive just by visiting it. Back in the days when Checkpoint Charlie had been more than just a replica guard house and a couple of lousy actors in ill-fitting uniforms.

  Now the café and its colourful history were gone, replaced by yet another bland chain serving generic coffee and cakes that had been made in a factory days earlier. How things changed, he thought.

  ‘Alpha team is Oscar Mike on left flank,’ a voice said in his ear. ‘We’ll cover you.’

  ‘Negative,’ Cain replied. ‘All teams hold the perimeter and stay back until I say otherwise.’

  ‘You’ll be going in unprotected. We can’t cover you from out here,’ Hawkins warned.

  ‘It’s my call,’ he said. ‘Stand by.’

  With that, he reached up and switched off his concealed radio transmitter. What he had to say next was for Anya only. Nobody else was going to listen in.

  Opening the door, he was greeted by the usual smell of roasted coffee beans, elderly tourists in unfashionable clothes and pompous-looking idiots tapping away at their laptops.

  None of these interested Cain, however. He’d already found the two people he was looking for, seated at a table near the far corner of the room. He angled towards them, feeling like he was in a dream, his steps slow and deliberate.

  Anya and Lauren watched as he approached, their expressions mirroring their very different reactions to seeing him.

  In Lauren he saw a mixture of relief and trepidation. She was frightened, but holding it together. Good girl, he thought. She’d always been strong and level-headed, just like her mother, never one to lose it in a moment of crisis.

  He looked her up and down, quickly checking for signs of injury or mistreatment. Aside from a minor graze by her right temple, there was no outward sign that she’d been harmed. In that regard, at least, Anya had kept her word.

  Satisfied that Lauren was safe and well, Cain finally turned to the woman herself, taking his first proper look at Anya in eight years. There had been a time when he’d known every curve, every line, every angle and feature of her face, which he’d truly believed the most strikingly beautiful he’d ever seen. She embodied both strength and vulnerability, wisdom and innocence, joy and sorrow.

  He had ached to see her again.

  Outwardly, the woman was not so different from the Anya he’d met all those years ago. Her features were a little harder and more definite, with fine lines around the eyes and mouth that hadn’t been there before, but physically she had changed little. It was what lay behind her face that was different. A lifetime of fighting and sacrifices had wrought their changes upon Anya’s soul. And Cain was acutely aware how much of that was down to him.

  She was sitting with one hand on the table, the other hidden from view. It almost certainly held a weapon of some kind. She tensed a little as he drew near, readying herself.

  Cain pulled up a chair and sat down. Two enemies opposite one another, with just a couple of feet of worn, coffee-stained tabletop between them.

  * * *

  Hawkins stood on the other side of the road, watching the scene unfold through the window. He could see Anya with such clarity that he felt he was sitting right beside her.

  He dearly wanted to be in Cain’s position. Had he been, he was quite certain the entire situation would have been resolved already, and he felt a surge of frustration and resentment that Cain was the one to face her. A bureaucrat who had never fired a weapon in anger, never killed, never looked into a person’s eyes as the life faded from them.

  What a waste.

  Anya deserved to be killed by a fellow soldier. She deserved to be killed by him. Whatever their rivalries, Hawkins and Anya were bound by their professional mastery of killing, and he’d have loved the chance to go head to head with her. He’d had that chance in Istanbul last year, and the few minutes when they’d faced off had been glorious, but they’d been interrupted before either could prevail.

  ‘Bravo team, make sure all exits to that building are covered,’ he said. ‘I want this perimeter airtight.’

  ‘Copy that, we’re in position. All entrances and exits secured,’ the team leader responded. ‘Nobody’s getting out of there without us seeing.’

  Hawkins didn’t share his confidence. Anya was planning something – of that he was sure. And since he’d been prevented from taking offensive action, the only choice was to dig in and wait.

  Feeling a pair of eyes on him, he glanced around to find a young boy. Asian, by the looks of him, no more than 10 years old. A scrawny little shit whose clothes looked too big for him.

  ‘Fuck off, kid,’ Hawkins advised. ‘You don’t want to be around for this.’

  Suddenly fearful of the big, intimidating figure, the boy backed away and fled.

  ‘Delta, where are we on surveillance?’ Hawkins asked, resuming his work.

  ‘Traffic cams are up. We’ve got full coverage of all roads in and out of that area,’ Javadi reported, his voice slightly distorted by range. ‘We’re backtracking now, trying to find how and when they arrived.’

  That would take time, he knew. Time they might not have.

  ‘What about cameras in the coffee shop? Can you get us an internal view?’

  ‘Afraid not. If they have them, they’re not accessible online.’

  Hawkins clenched his teeth. ‘Keep looking. Call out when you have something.’

  * * *

  For the first few seconds, neither of them said a word or moved a muscle, as if fearful that the slightest action would provoke a violent response.

  In the end, it was Lauren who made the first move, reaching out and touching her father’s hand. It had been a long time since she’d done something like that, and for a brief moment the simple gesture took Cain out of their dangerous situation.

  ‘It’s going to be okay, honey,’ he said, watching Anya as if she were a cobra that might strike at any instant. ‘I told you I’d come get you. You’ve been so brave, but it’s almost over now.’

  ‘Dad, I’m sorry,’ Lauren said. ‘I had no idea, about any of this. The work you did, the people you were involved with…’

  ‘It’s all right,’ Cain promised her. ‘None of that matters now. What matters is I’m here, and I’m going to take care of this.’

  ‘Anya told me some things, Dad.’ Lauren’s voice was stronger now, more assertive. ‘About what happened between the two of you.’

  ‘Did she really?’ Cain asked, eyeing Anya as he imagined the kind of lies she might have tried to spin.

  Anya remained silent, just as she’d done since his arrival.

  Lauren shook her head vehemently. ‘It’s not like that. I understand why you’re angry now, why you’re set against each other. It doesn’t have to be like that. You can stop this.’

  ‘We’ll talk about this later, Lauren,’ Cain said firmly. ‘Once this is over.’ His attention switched to Anya. ‘I’m going to ask my daughter to stand up and walk out of here now. And I’m asking you not to stop her.’

  Anya shifted position. ‘And what do I get in return, Marcus?’

  ‘You get me,’ he said simply. ‘That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? That’s why you came after me in Pakistan, why you’ve gone through all this. Well, here I am. You don’t need Lauren any more.’ He leaned a little closer. ‘She’s an innocent kid. Let her go.’

  Anya said nothing for a while. Whether she was trying to decide or whether she was just enjoying making him wait, he couldn’t be sure.

  But finally, mercifully, she nodded.

  ‘Go on outside, Lauren,’ he said, turning to his daughter. ‘There will be some men there waiting for you. Go with them, they’ll get you to safety.’

  But Lauren could see the look on his face, and on Anya’s. ‘Dad, please don�
��t do anything—’

  ‘It’s okay. Nobody’s going to do anything stupid.’ His eyes flicked to his adversary across the table. ‘Anya and I are just going to talk. Now go on. Please.’

  The young woman hesitated a moment longer. Then, giving his hand a final squeeze, she stood up and ran outside, leaving Anya and Cain alone.

  * * *

  Not far away, Alex sat hunched over his laptop, staring intently at the screen as he clicked through the various surveillance cameras overlooking the coffee shop. After figuring out the security protocols of the system firewall, he’d been able to hack into Berlin’s traffic camera network.

  His digital vantage point allowed him to observe their enemies far better than he could with his naked eyes.

  ‘Anya, heads-up. I count at least five men on the street near the coffee shop,’ he said quietly.

  It hadn’t taken him long to spot familiar figures amongst the hustle and bustle of passing pedestrians. Men who were loitering for no good reason other than waiting for an order to storm the coffee shop and kill Anya.

  ‘I count six,’ Yasin chimed in over the radio net.

  ‘You’re sure?’

  ‘I have been watching passers-by, and I am close,’ Yasin assured him, his voice hushed. ‘Six men do not belong here.’

  Alex switched feeds, finding one that looked into the access road and courtyard behind the coffee shop.

  ‘I’ve got another four at the rear. I guess they’ve been sent to cover the exits.’

  He was no tactical expert, but Alex understood the basics of their plan – box Anya in, close off all avenues of escape until the time was right to strike. If she tried to flee, she’d run straight into a wall of guns. If she stood her ground, she’d be condemned to a battle she couldn’t win.

  Either way, she lost and Cain won.

  Alex inhaled, his breathing tight and constricted, his heart racing. He could only imagine what was going through Anya’s mind as she sat face to face with her bitterest enemy.

  ‘Hope you know what you’re doing,’ he whispered, then watched as Lauren emerged onto the sidewalk, feeling relief mingled with sadness.

  He would probably never see her again.

  * * *

  Just as her father had promised, a man was waiting for Lauren outside the coffee shop. A big man, dressed in casual clothes. But his manner was anything but casual. He advanced across towards her purposefully, elbowing his way past a couple of pedestrians moving in the opposite direction. As he drew close, she noticed an ugly scar marring one side of his face.

  ‘Lauren, my name’s Jason. I’m here to get you out of here,’ he said, throwing an entirely unconvincing smile as he took her firmly by the arm.

  ‘I’m not leaving my dad,’ she protested, trying to turn around. ‘Not until he’s out of there. Not until he’s safe.’

  The pressure on her arm increased.

  ‘That’s not your choice,’ he said as he led her over to a parked car. ‘Don’t make me ask you again.’

  Chapter 58

  They had come to it at last. The moment was upon them. Cain had played this meeting in his mind a thousand times, pondering what they would say, what they would do, which direction their encounter would ultimately take.

  And now that they were finally here, he felt at a loss. How could one sum up their history of regrets, mistakes, accusations, misunderstandings in just a few sentences? Where to begin?

  ‘I have to commend you on your choice of venue,’ he said finally. ‘Always a student of history. I guess you’ll appreciate a place like this.’

  A waitress, spotting the new arrival, had come over to take Cain’s order. Recognizing the need to keep up appearances, he’d ordered a cappuccino.

  ‘You know, back in the old days I actually made a point of visiting the Berlin station just to come to this café. Can you believe that? They did the best cappuccinos and apple strudel I’ve ever tasted.’ He took a sip of his coffee; it was bitter and burnt. He set it down again. ‘But it wasn’t really the food that brought me back. It was the feeling you got when you walked in through that door. Being right here, on the front line, knowing you were just yards from the Soviet sector. It was like… electricity in the air. You knew history was being written all around you. Every word being spoken, every movement, every glance at a passer-by; it all meant something. Now…’ He drew his eyes up from the unpalatable beverage to the fake checkpoint outside. ‘Now it’s a different story.

  ‘I guess a lot of things have changed since then,’ he continued. ‘We played a different game, but at least we understood the rules. At least we knew what we were fighting for. Hard to believe now, right? Like those World War One soldiers who put down their guns and came up out of the trenches on Christmas Day, just because it seemed like the decent thing to do. Some dumb relic of a different age.’

  He looked at the woman seated opposite him, who had been watching his entire monologue in silence, her icy-blue eyes never leaving his.

  ‘Is that what we are, Anya?’ he asked. ‘Relics?’

  She didn’t answer right away. At moments like this, she always allowed the silence to hang in the air for just a little too long, knowing her adversary would feel compelled to fill it – and might just end up saying more than they’d intended. He knew this because he’d trained her to do it.

  A lifetime ago. When the street behind him had still been divided by a grim concrete wall topped with barbed wire. When he’d still believed in what he was fighting for.

  So he waited patiently for her response. He’d been waiting a long time for this moment; a few more seconds wasn’t going to hurt.

  ‘I didn’t come here to reminisce about the “good old days”, Marcus,’ she informed him coldly. ‘Neither of us were ever that young, or that idealistic. And those days you miss so much? They weren’t so good for me.’

  Her tone remained firm and even, but Cain had seen what she’d tried so hard to hide. The emotions behind her mask of self-control. The glimpse of the young woman he’d once known. The pain of the betrayal she still felt.

  ‘So why are you here?’ he asked. ‘Did you come to kill me, finish what you started in Pakistan?’

  Anya surveyed him across the table. Giving nothing away, as always. To casual observers, Anya no doubt appeared a model of cool, focussed attention, but Cain knew her better than that. Perhaps more than any other person on this earth, he could see through her facade to the soul that lurked inside, and what he saw would have given the bravest man pause for thought. He could practically feel the years of repressed anger radiating from her like the heat of a furnace.

  But he could also see something else. Sadness, grief for what had been lost, mourning for what might have been.

  ‘I am not here to kill you,’ she said.

  ‘Then what do you want, Anya?’ Cain pressed. ‘Ever since you got out of that Russian prison three years ago, you knew this moment was coming. You’ve killed everyone else who stood in your way. Every dead body you left behind was just another step in the road leading to me, and now here we are. So I’ll say it again. What do you want?’

  He saw the pain in her eyes, the fury at his betrayal, the agony of a life robbed of meaning.

  ‘Why, Marcus?’ she asked in a voice close to breaking. The voice of the young woman he’d sat with on that beach, staring out across the shining waters of the Pacific and imagining a future together. ‘Why did you turn against everything we believed in? Why did you turn against me?’

  Cain felt like their surroundings had faded away. Seeing Anya like this, seeing the damage he’d caused revealed to him at last, he felt a sudden upwelling of pity. And something else – he felt ashamed. Ashamed that he’d allowed it to happen, that he hadn’t fought harder to get her back. That he hadn’t been there to save her.

  But no sooner had these emotions formed than darker, more powerful thoughts rose up to overwhelm them. Anger that she had lied to him. Rage that he’d had to give up so much to undo the damag
e she’d caused. Long-suffering frustration that he was the only one who truly understood what it had taken to keep her alive.

  ‘Betray you? Is that what you think I did?’ he asked, shaking with the effort of keeping his anger under control. ‘I protected you, Anya. All those years, I kept your past a secret, I covered up your lies. The Agency would have killed you if they’d found out who and what you really were, but I stopped them. I ruined careers and destroyed lives for you. You never saw it, you were never aware of it, but I fought for you.’

  Anya didn’t say a word, just sat there listening as the flood of words and emotions came pouring out.

  ‘Even after everything that happened in Afghanistan, even when I realized the Anya I once knew never really existed, I still cleaned up your mess, and I got myself so dirty in the process that no matter what I do, I’ll never be clean again. So hate me if you want, but don’t ever accuse me of turning against what we both believed in, because at least I was honest about it. At least I really did believe in it once. What did you ever believe in?’

  He saw Anya’s right hand clench into a fist. Her left was hidden from view, still gripping a concealed weapon, but it didn’t matter. What mattered was the reaction his words had provoked.

  ‘You’re lying,’ she said, still filled with that same self-righteousness.

  Cain did something even she hadn’t expected. He leaned forward in his chair, staring hard into the eyes of the woman he’d once known so well.

  ‘Am I?’ he challenged her. ‘You’re the one who knows the truth about people. You’re the one who can read them like an open book. Tell me now, am I really lying to you?’

  Anya stared back at him, and once again he saw a chink in her armour exposed. She hadn’t expected this. She’d become so used to seeing him as an enemy, she’d never imagined dealing with him any other way.