“So it’s another bloody mountain, so what?”
“It’s in our way.”
“Dillon, even this quad won’t go up that.”
“It will if you find the right trails and paths.”
They sped along for another hour. Tatiana was exhausted, and she knew that Dillon was tiring — and becoming increasingly frustrated because of these natural obstacles that were hindering their progress to get to Kirill’s facility and Kirill himself.
As the daylight started to dissolve into darkness, Dillon halted, wiping away the rain from his goggles again. The steep lower slopes of the mountain looked daunting as the others had before — but this time it looked huge, made more formidable by the smooth lichen covered rock turning into giant steps nearer the summit that were weathered with time. They formed a steep and treacherous series of ramps, rising up in to the darkening sky.
“Dillon, please don’t tell me that you’re thinking of…”
“It’s our only option, Tats. And this baby will eat that rock.”
“No Dillon. I value my life.”
“And I value your life, Tats. But I value Kirill’s death more,” Growled Dillon. He blipped the engine. “Hold on, we’re going to do a spot of extreme hill climbing.”
The quad moved forward — gently this time and with care as Dillon’s gaze swept across the slope and at the rock ahead and above of them like some crazy game of snakes and ladders. He eased forward along the foot of the cliff, back and forth a couple of times to get the measure of the narrow trail way that wound its way up the mountain, all the way to the summit. Then, only when he was happy, did he gingerly start to move forward, opening up the throttle a little and turned the nose of the quad towards the steep climb.
With precision and control, Dillon eased the quad up a series of gentle slopes, blipping the power around the tight bends in the trail. Rubber gripped, the huge quad bike surged a little and Dillon had to slam on the brakes to regain control. They climbed up the mountain slopes into the low cloud base, Dillon kept the pace up, the quad consuming the ground with ease.
Now halfway up, Tatiana gazed down. If it had looked unreasonably steep from the bottom, now it looked insane; she felt suddenly vulnerable, gazing down at the valley far below, bordered by more mountain peaks stretching or as far as the eye could see.
Low clouds tumbled over the rugged landscape, impatient to reach their never ending destination, the mountain slopes foreboding in the failing light of day. Tatiana put her head against Dillon’s back, closed her rain drenched eyes and prayed.
The quad jolted, and then bucked as it went over an area strewn with small rocks, its tyres scrambled and kicked up debris as the powerful machine fought its way up the slope, bumping and rocking, as Dillon, sweat rolling down his forehead, grappled to keep the quad moving forward and upright. His gaze focused intently on the ground in front of them as they neared the summit, and then finally, they were over the top and Dillon had dropped down through the gears as they started down the other side. Loose rocks made the quad slip as tyres struggled to grip the loose ground, and they started to pick up speed.
Tatiana patted his shoulder.
“Yeah?”
“I think we need a break.”
“Sounds like a good idea. I am truly done-in.”
They continued down the mountain for a while longer until Tatiana’s sharp eyes spotted a small copse of trees, outlined by eerie half-light. Dillon altered course, and before long the trees came closer and two weary riders were able to dismount and stretch tired muscles and aching joints, the canopy of the trees protecting them from the persistent rain.
They were hidden from view in amongst the trees. Dillon had strung up a camouflaged waterproof sheet between the lower limbs to protect them from the weather that did not look as if it was going to improve, the quad’s engine clicked as it started to cool. “We’ll grab a few hours’ sleep, and then set off at first light.”
Dillon said, as he spread a ground sheet on the ground.
“Jesus, it’s cold. Whatever processed you to come and live up here Dillon?”
“You really don’t know anything about me, do you?” “I know that you’re one mad son-of-a-bitch. So that must have something to do with it.”
“Yeah, yeah… Now let’s get some sleep.”
Dillon slumped down onto the ground sheet exhausted, and ran his hand over the soft earth. “This place is old,” he said softly, his voice carrying a tone of awe. “I mean, really old.”
Tatiana nodded, retreating into the hood of her parka. Moaning in mock ecstasy, at the thought of sleep even though it would only be for a few hours. Her thoughts turned to a far off holiday in the
Bahamas. “I never believed I could be so cold,” she complained, closing her eyes.
Dillon smiled. “Unbelievable — we’re on our way to a meeting with almost certain destruction and all you can complain about is the cold. Lady, this is nothing; you should try this place in the middle of winter… Now then you would have something to complain about.” Tatiana emerged from somewhere inside her fur lined hood and propped herself up on her elbows and glowered at Dillon for a while, thought about replying with a caustic retort, decided it wasn’t worth it and laid back down on her back, closed her eyes and tried to sleep. Dillon checked the map using the light from his torch and discovered that they were only about two hours away from Kirill’s facility. As long as they still had the element of surprise on their side, they would arrive at the coordinates that the Priest had sent him in his last encrypted email, without incident.
And then… …what?
Dillon knew: he would interrogate Kirill. And then he would kill him. There was nothing Kirill could say that would excuse him of the crime of betrayal.
The Government might have brushed Kirill under the carpet. But not Dillon. It just wasn’t in him, and besides — Kirill had it coming to him for setting Dillon up, and attempting to kill him in Cornwall… Dillon lay there in the dark, reliving that day, that night at
Kirill’s country retreat in the heart of Cornwall, reliving that dreadful moment when Kirill and Zhenya Tarasova had turned against him, forcing Dillon to awaken his dark side. And then for a few black and white moments, Dillon did what he did best — kill and survive… Dillon blinked, wiped sweat out of his eyes.
That’s right, he thought. When he was under pressure, he saw everything in black and white.
Why?
Dillon felt himself shiver and he opened his eyes — back in the real world — and his gaze settled on Tatiana sleeping.
His mind was running over the many events since she had reentered his life. And then it dawned on him — perhaps she was not only working for Ferran & Cardini International, but also for Kirill; he didn’t lead the Assassins to Ezra. She did!
Dillon remembered what Tatiana had said about the work role she now held. Her job title was tagged, Government Liaison Officer, but her real function was acting as the eyes and ears of the partners of Ferran & Cardini within the corridors of power. Tatiana had been involved with the Kirill project team — had been involved with the
Chimera Programme, from inception… She has always known what
Chimera is capable of, and what it could do in the right or wrong hands. So, maybe she works for — Mr Big, whoever he was. She had pleaded with him to take on the bodyguard assignment in Cornwall. What a naive fool he had been, not to have seen that as a set-up. The bullet from the Assassin was only meant to wound — otherwise she would be dead. She had willingly jumped back into bed with him during their visit to Ezra’s place on Santorini. How convenient that was, fuck him, and fuck up his mind — soften him up, make him more susceptible to suggestion and direction. Dillon became aware that Tatiana was staring at him strangely.