“The girl in question is young, vulnerable, alone and afraid — someone who I can empathise with. Damn it, Dillon. You’re the best in the business and she needs the best there is.”
“Crap.” He kissed her again, anyway, tasting the lightness of the wine on her lips. When he pulled away, he was frowning. “Why not one of the Scorpion units, they’re more than capable of protection duties. Surely they would be first in line?
There was a long pause. Tatiana averted her gaze and looked over at the fire as though she was having a tussle with her conscience. Dillon caught a glimpse of something then, in her face, in her eyes. There was something that Tatiana knew, a secret she didn’t want to divulge.
Dillon smiled tightly and reached up, stroking her hair. She turned back to him, she had regained her composure.
“The partners asked for my recommendation and I said you, Jake,” she said the words softly. “Don’t turn me down. Don’t let her down.”
“Who is she? Why should I give-a-damn?”
“Zhenya Tarasova. She’s twenty-two. The niece of Professor Kirill”
Dillon pulled away for a moment. He noticed a mischievous sparkle in Tats’ blue eyes as he searched her face — he shook his head, unsure of the unspoken signs he sought.
“Kirill? Where the hell is LJ sending me?”
“You really shouldn’t let me manipulate you, Jake,” said Tatiana, turning and walking away from him.
Dillon watched the hypnotic sway of her hips. He sighed inwardly. How long has it been since I’ve had the pleasure of this woman’s company? He thought. How long without soft lips to kiss and so-soft skin to caress…
“I can’t help myself, Tats.” His voice was a little hoarse. “Where am I going?”
“Castle Drago, Cornwall. One of my favourite counties in England. A place where you can step off the treadmill for a couple of weeks and recharge the old batteries. Unspoilt sandy beaches and wild surf. Absolutely blissful.”
“Kirill is based at the Government’s secret establishment here in Scotland, isn’t he?”
“Yes, but he’s come out of his bunker up here to give a series of lectures to the Scorpion Unit top brass and selected unit commanders, and for a celebration of his achievements working on several major breakthroughs in software development. Many of those involved in the project have been based in Cornwall for — shall we say security reasons…”
Dillon sighed and shrugged. He rubbed at his suddenly weary eyes, then met Tats’ gaze. “Will you stay?”
There was a brief pause. Tatiana put her hands in her pockets and looked at Dillon steadily. She tilted her head, touched her lips with the tip of her forefinger, her beautiful blue eyes unreadable. Dillon realised that she had aged — matured — wonderfully in the year or so since he had last seen her. And in that instant, he realised too that he wanted her more than anything in the world.
“And you left her for Issy, didn’t you, you cock?”Mocked his subconsciousness, a distant whisper in his head. “You cock. You sent her away.”
Dillon shifted his weight and stood up to his full 6’2” height. Then he smiled and looked up to see the tenderness in Tatiana’s expression.
“Not tonight, lover boy,” she said in a whisper. She smiled. “But we’ll make a date. When you get back from this assignment, maybe.”
“You mean, maybe never. Well, I can’t say I blame you after the way I treated you. But thanks for the cheap kisses, though. At least they were enough to entice me to give Ferran & Cardini the benefit of my skilled services once again.”
Tatiana moved forward and placed a finger against his lips. “Not another word. When you return from Cornwall — we will meet up.”
“Promise?”
“I promise. Here catch this.”
She tossed Dillon a new mobile phone. It was much lighter than the previous models, and he turned it slowly; similar in size to the one he had before, the dull black alloy shone as it fitted neatly into the palm of his hand. “New model?”
Version 6. LJ has had them designed and made specifically for our own field agents. It also allows you to connect with the majority of government agencies should the need arise. The technology has moved on since you last worked for us, Jake.”
“Really? Same basic functions?”
“Yes and a few little enhancements.”
The device was loaded with an ultra-fast operating programme, was solid-state — no moving parts — and quite robust; it responded verbally to commands — if activated — and had biometric fingerprint recognition facilities; it was automatically logged into the Ferran & Cardini main computer system using advanced GPS — constant web access gave world maps at the touch of a button. It also had a few hidden and very ingenious little tricks within its alloy casing.
Tatiana turned to leave, gathering her coat and gloves and moving out into the great hall and the front door and the severe cold outside. “When are you coming back to the real world, Dillon? It’s missing you — and so am I.”
“I’ve needed the time to get myself back together.”
“That wasn’t the question.”
“Then, when I have a good enough reason to. Does that answer it?”
She held his gaze for a long time, then turned and left. He stood listening to her leave, then moved back into the living room and stood by the window and watched as the Mercedes AMG moved off in a plume of exhaust fumes and angry spinning wheels. The expensive sports car cut a swathe through the fresh snowfall and was gone in an instant, tail lights flickering into nothing.
Dillon felt suddenly alone. Something had been stirred in him for the first time in over a year.
For a while he watched the snow falling, and then stared down at the phone nestling in his palm. He switched it on, and it immediately came to life. A series of encrypted symbols appeared across the large touch-screen. He looked from the phone to the roaring fire — and for a moment was in two minds…
He could simply throw into the flames. Walk away and forget his conversation with Tatiana had ever taken place.
He had vowed the last time that he was through with LJ and Ferran & Cardini International.
Because, when he was truly through with them, then he would be at peace with himself. Dillon shivered, staring into the flames.
Ferran & Cardini did not know about what was going on inside his head — his self-loathing of what he had evolved into over the years. But then nobodyknew about it. Not even the firm’s shrinks. He had fooled them all at each and every assessment interview that all field agents had to undergo every six months. He had effectively hidden a dark and psychopathic slice of his personality that had gradually surfaced from the deepest recesses and now perched menacingly, always waiting to prove itself again as it had before in Jersey and Dorset. A blood demon ready to feed at any time…
Dillon sighed.
He turned from the flames and slumped into the embrace of the deep and comfortable antique leather sofa.
Protection, Tatiana had said. Dillon’s head was thumping and his mouth dry and he realised that she — and LJ himself — understood him perfectly. No more killing. No more racing around the countryside with someone chasing him… Those days were over. Gone. Thrown into the ocean, just like Charlie Hart’s Brinks Mat gold bullion bars had been. But he knew where to find them all the same…
Protection.
The protection of Kirill’s niece — the British Government’s most coveted communist defector since the cold-war and one of the world’s foremost authorities on military computer software programs.
No killing, no bombs, no more collective violence…