— HACKER INVOLVEMENT SUSPECTED. Intrusion detected at level 5 — GCHQ building. Initiate lock-down protocol…
Chapter 1
Dillon watched the row of six monitors on the opposite wall of the oak lined study. Hidden CCTV cameras picked up the driver of a Mercedes AMG 55 wheel spin the luxury sports car up the narrow snowbound lane and park precariously and at an obscure angle in the sweeping drive. The driver’s door swung open and the woman climbed from the warmth and comfort of the interior. She glanced up towards him, towards the shield of glass and waved through the lightly falling snow.
Dillon moved from the study, across the great hall, walking barefoot over luxurious Persian rugs to one of the day rooms. He threw more logs and coal on the fire and then went back through to the study, picked up the handheld control unit off his desk and, remotely opened the front door, went back to the living room and crashed out on one of the large sofas with a large single malt whisky.
He heard her, stamping snow from her boots and quietly cursing the weather, the location and, most of all, him. He smiled wryly, swirling the whisky and taking in its silky smooth flavour as the attractive woman came up the stone steps to the front door.
As she appeared in the doorway he raised his arm over the back of the sofa and remotely closed the heavy oak door. “How’s life, Tats?”
“It’s Tatiana, not Tats.”
“Bit tense, aren’t we. Whisky or wine?”
“What wine?”
“White. Italian — very cold. Does it really matter?”
“It matters, Dillon. Why the fuck did you buy a castle in the middle of fuck knows where?”
“It’s the Scottish Highlands, and I happen to like it here.” “But it’s in the middle of nowhere!”
“That’s just it, Tats. There’s not a living soul within fifty miles. Unlike London, which has become so congested it’s almost suffocating.” Dillon shook his head as he walked off to the kitchen to pour a glass of wine. A moment later he returned and handing her the glass and said, “I moved out of the city because it’s not a pleasant environment. Up here the air is fresh, what you might call conducive to relaxation and hopefully a long life.”
Tatiana gave a short laugh, her gaze moving around the spacious living room. “I can’t believe you gave up everything you’ve ever worked for to come and live the easy life. Christ, you even sold your Porsche Carrera S4 in favour of a fucking Landrover, and an old one at that.”
“To be honest, Tats. A Porsche wouldn’t be much good to me up here.” Dillon frowned. “I don’thave to go out much. I have everything I need right here.”
Tatiana stopped, took a deep breath and counted silently as she summoned patience. She removed her coat and threw it over the back of a nearby leather armchair, closed her eyes for a moment and then took a long gulp of her wine, followed by another, emptying her glass. She held it out for a refill. Dillon picked the bottle out of the ice bucket and poured her another generous glass full.
“I hate Scotland,” she said.
“There’s nothing to hate, Tats,” Dillon said softly. He drained his glass in one and immediately poured himself another. “It feels right to be here, it’s just so beautiful. You won’t understand, but I’ve discovered that I like my own company. The solitude has given me a rejuvenated inner strength and vitality for life once again. All of those years, killing to survive and having to constantly watch my back, drained me to a point where I felt that if someone had put a bullet in my head, they would have done me a favour. Just to escape from all the shit. All I’ve done, Tatiana — is to step off the merry-go-round for the sake of my own sanity.” He watched her slim and athletic form. He thought back to better times — long days and endless nights, making love, laughing, talking, drinking…
He topped her glass up. She ran a hand through her long naturally blond hair, using a small elastic band to tie it into a pony tail, the way she knew from old, was how he liked it. He smiled, downed his whisky in one gulp and threw the cut crystal tumbler into the fire where it shattered: for a brief moment the flames flared, the light dancing across the walls and over the high vaulted ceiling.
“You always were melodramatic,” said Tatiana thoughtfully, staring down into her wine glass. She moved in front of the fire, sitting on the luxurious rug in front of it and gazing into the flames, seemingly lost in thought.
“Why are you here?” He said finally when he realised that she was not going to break the silence without prompting.
Flames crackled for a while and Dillon wondered if she had heard him.
“Why has there got to be reason, Jake?”
“Well for starters — it’s been well over a year since I left London,” Dillon sighed. “Are you still working for Ferran & Cardini?”
“Of course. The firm grows more important to the British Government with each passing day. LJ sends his regards, by the way.” She smiled softly.
“That old slave-driver should be retired by now.”
“Well, that as may be. He has a job for you.”
“Ah.” Dillon sighed, climbed to his feet and walked to stand in front of the large bay window. The snow was falling much more heavily now and he could see, dimly through the swirling flakes, the mountains on the other side of the loch, blue-grey and sheer — exhilarating. The wind howled through the woods outside and whistled in through odd gaps in the wooden window casements, lifting the edge of the heavy drapes as it passed by. Dillon shivered, despite the fire’s heat in the room. He felt a twinge of disappointment that he could not see the frozen mountain peak in the distance.
“Would I be working alone?”
“On your own. A protection job.”
“I don’t know, Tats.” Dillon said softly, still gazing out of the window — his mind playing back vivid images of events he would rather forget, nightmares he would rather not relive. She stood, a fluid and graceful action, and moved to him, draped her arms over his shoulders and rested her cheek on his broad back.
“I know you’ve turned down the last two assignments that LJ has offered you — as is your prerogative. But this has come from the very top of Government. It’s really important, Jake.”
“It always is,” said Dillon bitterly.
“It’s something big, and it’s going to happen soon. We don’t know when — where — or how. But it’s got the weenies in Whitehall very twitchy, indeed.
“What’s new? Nothing you’ve told me so far, Tatiana, has grabbed my interest.”
“The world is changing, Jake, and you’re fucking hidingup here…”
She tailed off as she saw the look on his face and cursed herself inwardly. That had been a blow way below the belt; Dillon was good. No, he was the best. And after the stolen painting assignment… he had the right to live and rest any way he pleased…
Tatiana took a deep breath.
“Look, I want you to do this,” she said. She moved around to face him very slowly. Her lips touched his and he allowed her to kiss him for a few moments. Her breath was sweet, her lips soft and inviting.
“Why?”
“How long is it since Isabella left you for that stockbroker?”
“You’re evading my question, Tatiana. Just over a year ago — and you knew that anyway, it’s in my file.”