Assassins Rogue

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Assassins Rogue Page 8

by Rachel Amphlett


  This was the side of Prague the tourists didn’t see.

  Like any rundown city suburb, it wore its dinginess with reluctance and hunkered at the fringes of the more respectable neighbourhoods.

  This was where people came to be forgotten.

  Eva let the blind snap back down and turned to Nathan. ‘Do you think you can get hold of Decker on a secure line?’

  The analyst wrinkled his nose. ‘Depends. It’s not like he left a forwarding address before he disappeared, is it?’

  She locked eyes with Marie. Sure, she had the woman’s word that she was an employee of the Section, and yes she had known where to find them and the code phrase to get help, but…

  ‘We need to make this call in private,’ she said. ‘Decker won’t talk to us if he knows you’re here.’

  ‘I can go and stand in the bathroom and run the shower if you don’t want me to hear anything,’ said the woman. ‘I get it. We need help, right? Otherwise, we’re all dead.’

  ‘Unfortunately, you’re right,’ said Nathan. ‘Whether we like it or not, until we find out who’s trying to hunt you down to stop us finding out what’s going on…’

  ‘Don’t worry, I’m going.’ Marie snatched up a complimentary guide to the city that had been left by the owner on a chipped laminate-covered table. ‘I was going to take a look at what there is to do around here anyway.’

  Once the bathroom door shut and the sound of the shower could be heard, Nathan beckoned to Eva. ‘All right, look. I’ve got three possible IP addresses for him, two mobile phone numbers and a dark web message room. Which one do I try?’

  She crossed her arms over her chest. ‘All of them. My money’s on the message room though. It’s a similar system that he used to use when he was with the Section.’

  Watching as Nathan brought up different app windows on the laptop screen and typed in strings of code, she nibbled at a thumbnail and for the nth time since leaving the bookshop wondered what they were getting into.

  She needed Decker’s company as much as his skills. Nathan was a computer genius, but John Decker would keep her alive – and keep her focused, too. She was no good as a babysitter, having spent years working alone but together…

  They might just stand a chance.

  ‘The message room,’ said Nathan, snapping his fingers. ‘Got him.’

  ‘Really?’ Eva stepped forward, unable to keep the surprise from her voice.

  ‘Hang on.’ Nathan frowned, scribbled a series of numbers on a scrap of paper, then exited the programme.

  ‘Wait, what are you doing?’

  ‘It’s okay, don’t panic. He just wants to do this on video. This is another secure contact detail he’s using these days, that’s all. Just give me a few seconds to connect us.’

  The screen flickered across the encrypted connection, then Decker appeared on camera.

  ‘Where the hell is he?’ she murmured.

  ‘Tuscany. At his place,’ said Nathan out the corner of his mouth.

  Eva took in the figure on the screen.

  Now in his mid-forties, Decker was sitting at a table in what appeared to be a farmhouse kitchen, wearing a black vest top that exposed sun-browned skin bulging with muscle. His dark brown hair remained cropped close to his skull while days-old stubble covered his jaw. Fierce green eyes peered over a newspaper, a frown creasing his brow.

  ‘What do you want?’ he demanded.

  ‘Signal okay?’ said Nathan.

  ‘It’s fine.’

  ‘The picture’s crap,’ said Eva.

  ‘It’s a cheap-shit disposable phone, what do you expect?’

  ‘Good to see you, too.’

  Decker leaned back, keeping the newspaper held upright. He wet his thumb, flicked the page over and lowered his gaze from the phone screen to the text in front of him. ‘What do you want?’

  ‘We’ve got a slight situation here,’ said Eva.

  ‘Uh-huh.’

  She exhaled, and tapped Nathan on the shoulder. ‘You tell him.’

  Walking away from the analyst, she paced the threadbare carpet as he spoke and kept one ear on the sound of the shower.

  She had no doubt that Marie would have her ear pressed to the bathroom door trying to listen – she would, if she was in the same position – so she reached out and turned on the radio clock plugged into the wall next to the bed. Finding a talk show channel, she turned up the volume before wandering back to where Nathan was concluding his tale of events to date.

  ‘So, that’s why we need your help,’ said Eva.

  ‘I’ve got grapes to harvest.’

  ‘Bullshit. They’re not ripe yet, it’s only May. Besides, you pay people to harvest them for you.’

  ‘I’m busy.’

  ‘You’re sat on your arse reading the paper upside down.’

  Decker lowered it, glaring at her. ‘It’s cold there.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous. We’ve worked in the Arctic before now, so don’t start with the excuses.’

  ‘You have?’ Nathan’s eyes widened. ‘When? Why?’

  Eva shook her head. ‘It doesn’t matter.’

  Nathan counted the seconds while the ensuing silence stretched out and Decker’s eyes bored into the camera lens. When he opened his mouth, Eva raised her hand to him for silence, her gaze never leaving the man on the screen.

  Eventually, Decker spoke. ‘Where do you want me?’

  ‘Coming here isn’t an option. We already know there are hostiles in the city so we need to make a break for it. Where would you suggest?’

  ‘Remember the place we spent a couple of days after that job in Austria a few years ago while we waiting to see where the Section would send us next?’

  Eva narrowed her eyes. ‘Is it still there?’

  ‘Abandoned by the CIA four years ago.’ Decker winked. ‘I changed the locks and set up a camera feed so no-one could get in without me knowing. Do you think you can get yourselves to Germany?’

  ‘I think so. When?’

  ‘I’ll give you twenty-four hours. If I don’t see you by then, I’m out of there. I’ll assume the worst.’

  ‘Understood.’

  ‘Fine.’ The older assassin leaned forward, his thumb hovering close to the phone. ‘I’ll see you then.’

  ‘Decker – wait.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘We’ll need weapons, too. One of our conditions to be left alone by the Section was to tone down the armoury.’

  ‘Tone it down? By how much?’

  Now it was Eva’s turn to look uncomfortable. ‘I’ve got nothing bigger than a couple of 9mm handguns. I’m low on ammunition too.’

  ‘Shit.’ Decker snorted. ‘All right. I’ll see what I can dig up.’

  Nathan narrowed his eyes. ‘You mean that literally, don’t you?’

  ‘Well, I don’t grow vegetables in my spare time, do I?’ the older assassin snapped. ‘Might as well do something useful with the garden.’

  Chapter Twenty

  Charlotte Hughes took one look at the snag in her fifteen denier stockings and swore under her breath.

  She slammed shut the lower drawer of her desk, cursing the rough edge that had caught her leg, then pulled a bottle of clear nail varnish from her handbag and applied a liberal brushstroke to the offending tear.

  ‘I’ve got a spare pair if you want them,’ said a friendly voice.

  Peering over her computer screen, she smiled as Simone Barnett hovered by her in-tray with a pile of files in her arms. ‘I’ve got some, but thanks. It’s always the expensive ones, too isn’t it?’

  ‘I think it’s a conspiracy myself.’ Simone lowered her voice. ‘Heard anything yet?’

  ‘No.’ Charlotte bit her lip. ‘Maybe his plane got delayed or something. Or he’s got no phone signal.’

  ‘That’ll be it.’

  Voices from the corridor beyond Charlotte’s office came closer and Simone forced a smile.

  ‘I’m sure he’ll call when he can.’

 
‘Thanks. You’re probably right.’

  She stifled a sigh as the other woman scurried from her office, and flicked the tab on her computer screen to a list of flights arriving that morning. The one from Ankara had landed a little while ago at half eleven, having made up some time thanks to a tail wind. He hadn’t phoned when she’d reached the office at half eight so perhaps he had caught the later one after all.

  They had only known each other for a couple of months after an acquaintance had introduced them at a colleague’s leaving drinks party in a bar just down the road, but a shared interest in trashy eighties films, theatre performance and rock music had turned into a fledgling relationship that she was keen to nurture.

  So far, they’d kept it to themselves though.

  Private, and away from office gossip. Only Simone suspected the truth and the only other person who knew for certain was her brother, her closest confidant these past few years.

  ‘How’s the report for Toskins coming along, Char?’

  Stabbing her forefinger on her mouse, the screen returning to a spreadsheet, she spun her chair around to face Neil Hodges.

  ‘You’ll have it in fifteen,’ she said, keeping her voice light.

  Hodges smiled, exposing uneven teeth. ‘Wouldn’t like to keep him waiting, would we?’

  Charlotte resisted the urge to retort, and turned her back to him.

  The man was a self-serving creep who had appeared one day last year having been recruited from a minor department. Since then, he had succeeded in offending every woman in Portcullis House. In his late fifties, a heavy smoker and widowed according to Suzanne, he had somehow managed to charm Toskins within a month of turning up and now here she was, reporting to him.

  The problem was, he was good at what he did and administrative support roles at this level were few and far between. Charlotte needed the job – she didn’t fancy her chances at finding another role in the City at forty-five.

  She blinked back the frustration and set about creating the formulae and formatting that would give Toskins and his team the data they sought.

  Hodges’ mobile phone trilled and he pushed back his chair as he answered in a braying voice that carried across the small open-plan space they shared with four others, and then proceeded to pace between the desks and chairs as he spoke.

  Casting her eye over the last of the sums, she saved the file to the cloud-based secure server and locked her screen before snatching up her mobile phone.

  She ignored the look that Hodges shot across the room at her as she weaved behind a colleague’s chair and instead kept her attention on her phone screen.

  Eleven-fifty.

  Surely he would have disembarked by now.

  ‘Morning, sunshine.’

  Her head jerked up at the sound of the voice, and she smiled. ‘Morning, Laura.’

  The woman from the general administration pool was balancing a haphazard pile of padded bags and envelopes in her arms, using her chin to prevent the top-most package from sliding away from her. ‘I’ve got something for you in this lot. Hang on.’

  Charlotte followed her over to an alcove housing a series of wire racks above a cupboard used for stationery, and waited while she sorted through the pile. ‘How’s your daughter getting on at university? Last semester isn’t it?’

  Laura rolled her eyes. ‘Thank God. Costing me a fortune. I mean, she’s a good kid but that part-time job of hers doesn’t pay enough.’

  ‘Has she made up her mind what she’s going to do yet?’

  ‘Travel, apparently. Heading for Australia on a one-year visa.’ The woman’s eyes grew wistful. ‘I just hope she comes back. Ah – here you go.’

  Charlotte took the A4-sized envelope from her, then smiled as she recognised the handwriting.

  The address had been scrawled in haste – and then she saw the postmark.

  Gaziantep?

  She frowned, recalling the name of the Turkish town from news reports soon after the Syrian conflict had escalated, its proximity to the border a welcome relief to exhausted refugees.

  ‘Everything all right, duck?’

  ‘It – it’s fine, thanks.’

  ‘You’ve gone quite pale.’

  When she looked up, Laura was frowning so she forced a smile.

  ‘Really, I’m fine. Was there anything else for me, or Neil perhaps?’

  ‘No, that’s it for today.’ Laura winked. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  Charlotte glanced over her shoulder to see Hodges still on the phone. He was standing at the window with his back to the office, barking orders at some other unfortunate soul, and taking no notice of her.

  She ran her thumb over the postmark, then tore open the envelope. Pulling out a sheaf of handwritten notes, her eyes fell to the note stuck to the top page.

  Be careful who you trust.

  ‘What the hell have you been up to, Jeffrey Dukes?’ she whispered.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Eva’s hand shot out to steady Marie as the woman stumbled on the uneven surface, then waved away her mumbled thanks.

  The day had grown warm, with bright sunlight dappling through the forest canopy as they wove along a narrow dirt path. The only sounds were their footsteps and a persistent cuckoo’s call.

  By her reckoning, they had another two hours walking before their next scheduled rest, and she intended to cover as much distance as possible in the time left.

  The Czech Republic lay miles behind, the border between it and Germany crossed under cover of darkness before dawn broke.

  She had insisted on using buses to get them away from Prague rather than stealing a vehicle and attracting unnecessary attention to themselves, keeping to the quieter local bus routes rather than using the vehicles that swept across Europe, before the small group reached Grafling and started out on foot for the hike to their final destination.

  Pulling her sweatshirt over her head and tying it around her waist, she took the bottle of water Nathan held out and took a swig before passing it back.

  ‘How’re you doing?’

  ‘Blisters,’ he said, and grimaced. ‘I thought I’d be all right with all the bloody running I do to keep fit.’

  ‘Different terrain. Will you be all right?’

  ‘Why, are you going to leave me behind if I’m not?’

  ‘Maybe,’ she said, and winked. ‘But I’d shoot you first to put you out of your misery.’

  ‘That’s not funny,’ Nathan called as she set off once more.

  ‘What’s the name of this place we’re heading for?’ said Marie, falling into step beside her.

  ‘It’s an old CIA listening station.’

  ‘How does your friend know about it?’

  ‘He’s freelance.’ Eva squinted as they entered a glade, the ground undulating between deep green-coloured ferns. She peered upwards at the azure sky and wondered if Knox had yet managed to trace their progress.

  Were they being watched now via satellite?

  She blinked the thought away, picking up her pace to cross the clearing, and plunged into the thick wooded area on the other side.

  An immediate coolness crossed her shoulders, thick pine trunks cluttering the path while her boots scuffed through needles and cones.

  ‘Hang on. Piss break,’ said Nathan, and wandered through the trees until he was out of sight.

  Eva kicked at a stone, then peered along the path that lay before them, listening.

  Apart from a pair of crows cawing from a branch farther back towards the clearing they’d just passed, the forest was silent.

  ‘Can you trust this friend of yours?’

  Eva stopped and turned to face Marie. ‘With my life. What’s with the questions?’

  ‘Sorry – it’s just that I’ve been chased by four men, and I’ve seen you kill them. I haven’t seen my brother in years, I have no idea where we’re going, who we’re meeting, and one of my best friends is dead.’ Marie took a deep breath, then uttered a
bitter laugh. ‘It’s not like my training covered any of this.’

  ‘It’s a bit different when people die in front of you rather than from a few thousand metres up, is it?’

  ‘That’s not fair.’

  ‘It never is.’ Eva sighed. ‘Look, there’ll be time to grieve for Kelly when this is over. Right now, my job is to get us to this safe house of Decker’s, find a way to get you to safety, and then find out what the bloody hell is going on.’

  ‘Everything all right?’ said Nathan, reappearing on the path.

  ‘We’re good.’ She glanced at her wristwatch. ‘We’ve got another four hours of daylight. I’d like to get to the outskirts of Deggendorf by then. I don’t know about you two, but I don’t fancy walking through here at night. Are you both going to be okay with that?’

  Nathan nodded, and looked at his sister.

  Marie shrugged. ‘Lead the way.’

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Five hours later, Eva crouched beside a high barbed wire fence surrounding an industrial estate on the fringes of the town.

  The distant sound of evening traffic on the autobahn created a constant white noise, peppered with the occasional siren or blast from a truck horn. On the breeze, a chemical stench wafted across from one of the warehouses beyond the fence, the smells reminiscent of bleach and turpentine.

  In the cool pale hues of the security lights dotted around the complex, tall thin chimneys poked up into the night sky belching steam and worse.

  They had spent the past hour hovering at the fringes of the forest, now little more than thin woodland beside the industrial estate, waiting for the sun to disappear over the horizon before she decided it was safe to move.

  A few cars were still parked within the complex, and she’d already spotted two armed security guards patrolling within. A single searchlight completed an anti-clockwise sweep of the perimeter fence every few minutes, and she ducked as it crossed their position.

  After it passed, she could see movement at the back of one of the buildings. A wide aluminium door began to rise, and then she heard a truck engine start up from within. Moments later, the vehicle rolled out, its headlights illuminating a figure who waved it forward.

 

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