Be Brave (20 page)

At the car, Kael handed her the keys and he got into the passenger seat. “Start

driving out of the city toward the village of Provins.”

“Yes, sir.”

Within minutes he was asleep.

When the car stopped, Kael woke up immediately and looked at his watch. It

was a little after seven a.m. and just getting light. He looked up at the medieval

wall of Caesar"s Tower. “What took you so long? The journey should have taken an

hour and a half at the most.”

“I got lost, sir. Sorry. At least you got to sleep a bit longer.”

90

Fyn Alexander

“This is true.” He had needed the sleep. “On the outskirts of the village is a

large brick house surrounded by a high wall with security gates. The target is there.

What have you been told?”

“Sir, the only thing I"ve been told is to follow your instructions.” She looked

sideways at Kael. “I hate to ask this, and please don"t bite my head off like you did

that bloke at Herstmonceux, but could we get some coffee and food?”

Provins was a popular tourist spot, a medieval fortress town with a busy

market and lots of restaurants, and at seven in the morning, it was just waking up.

The look on Mattie"s face, one of nervous questioning, reminded him of Angel when

he wanted something he suspected Kael would think trivial. He was used to being

alone on a job, and he never ate until the details were taken care of. But it wouldn"t

do any harm. “Yes, all right.”

“Oh thanks!” The look of relief on her face was comical.

They left the car and walked down the street looking for a café. “French only,

and keep your voice very low. Act like we"re lovers and want only to look at each

other,” Kael said as he opened a door for her. He ordered coffee only, but Mattie

ordered a big breakfast with eggs and croissants and ate the lot with obvious

enjoyment. While she ate, she talked nonstop, mostly about her training and her

couple of years in the army, and Kael listened. Her excitement about the job

reminded him again of Misha and of himself.

Mattie stuffed the last piece of croissant into her mouth. “Is it true you hit

someone for not paying attention in a French class, sir?”

“It was a German class,” he said. “News certainly travels fast. Wouldn"t you

think that people who choose to work in intelligence services would be a little more

mature than to gossip?”

Mattie looked down. “Everyone says you"re a genius. I didn"t know you did

undercover.”

“That"s because I"m undercover,” he said. “You thought I just suddenly

appeared at Vauxhall Cross?”

She shrugged. “Yeah. I"ve never seen you before, and then all of a sudden you

were the talk of the place when you started teaching languages.”

“Why was I the talk of the place?” He didn"t really care, but he was a little

curious.

“For one thing, the women think you"re drop-dead gorgeous. They don"t know

you"re gay. You don"t have that voice. And then you have a reputation for being

somewhat strict. Everyone says you"re a genius and that you went to Cambridge.

Some people say you come from a rich family.”

If only they knew.

“SIS is running with people who went to Cambridge and come from rich

families.” He had no intention of answering any questions or revealing any personal

information.

Angel and the Assassin: Be Brave

91

“There"s a bloke with a really weird reputation that no one knows who the hell

he is, but you know what rumors are like. They call him the Black Widow because

he has sex with his targets before he kills them. He probably doesn"t even exist, but

Denbigh reckoned it was you. He was mouthing off about it after Herstmonceux.”

“Denbigh is no longer working for SIS.”

“Was it because of you? You know…after the castle weekend?”

“He"s the wrong sort,” Kael said.

“I know. He was a bastard. He hates you. I can"t believe you threw him over a

wall. Everyone was thrilled.” She giggled. She had the cutest laugh, and Kael found

himself smiling but quickly controlled it.

“Put a foot wrong and I"ll throw you over a wall too,” he warned.

“Yes, sir.” Still smiling but looking a little wary, she said, “I believe that.”

“Now, let"s get to the location so I can decide what I"m going to do tonight.”

Kael paid the bill and held the door on the way out. If anyone remembered

them, they would have seen a nice, professional-looking French couple on a

weekend excursion.

The house was about twenty-five minutes from the center of Provins. Set well

back off a narrow country lane, it was a grand mansion surrounded by a high brick

wall with black wrought-iron security gates at the beginning of a sweeping

driveway. “Keep driving past. Don"t slow down or look at the house,” Kael told

Mattie.

About a mile from the house, Kael ordered her to pull over into a lay-by. “I"m

going back on foot to get the feel of the place. But at this point, I think I"m going to

secure the target after dark. You sit here, and if anyone looks suspicious, act as if

you are stopping for a smoke. Do you smoke? The French are always puffing away.”

“I don"t smoke, but”—she pulled out a cigarette case and lighter—“I can in a

pinch.”

Kael smiled. “You"ve done a good job of fitting in.” The look on her face told

him she was eating up his praise. “Stay here.”

The landscape was wide-open fields with copses of trees. The air was brisk but

dry and sunny. At the mansion, a narrow lane ran around the perimeter of the wall,

allowing access to different parts of the grounds through gates in the wall. Kael

easily scaled the ten-feet high wall near a large, spreading oak tree and used the

branches for cover as he looked over. There was no activity at all in the extensive

gardens. He pulled out a small pair of binoculars and scanned the big windows.

People, mostly men, were moving around inside. He pocketed the binoculars and

looked about for dogs, but there weren"t any. That would make things easier.

Levering himself off the wall, he dropped to the ground. It took about fifteen

minutes for him to reconnoiter the grounds and the exterior of the house and to

orient in his mind the floor plan Conran had shown him. There were eight

bedrooms, and Clement was believed to be staying there, so one of them was his,

and very probably one at the back to keep him out of the way.

92

Fyn Alexander

The sound of cars driving up to the house caught Kael"s attention, and using

the ornamental shrubbery around the house for cover, he made his way around to

the front. Four cars had pulled into the sweeping, paved drive, and as many as

twelve young women, some looking no more than fifteen years old, got out. Their

eyes were wide, their clothing disheveled as though they had been roughed up. All

of them looked terrified. There were two men per car, and they ushered the girls

straight to the door.

“In the house. Get in!” they shouted in Russian.

Three men wandered out onto the wide steps, and among them Kael spotted

Clement. He looked at the thinnest, youngest-looking girl, his face a case study in

lust. Kael"s stomach turned.

Piece of shit.

When the men and girls disappeared into the house and closed the door, Kael

made his way toward the gate near the oak tree. With a switchblade, he broke the

lock and walked out, heading back to Mattie. Another car was pulled up behind

theirs, with a family eating a picnic. Mattie stood leaning against the car,

pretending to smoke a cigarette. When Kael approached, she called out, “
Chéri, vous

y êtes
.”

He smiled, and they got into the car and drove off.

“He"s there, and by the looks of things, there"s going to be a party or something

going on this evening.”

“Will that make it harder to get him out?”

“It should make it easier. If there"s a crowd of men, I"ll blend in. I"ll speak

whatever language they are all speaking. We"ll go back at around ten this evening.

Until then, do you want to look at the sights in Provins?”

“Can we?” She was surprised.

“We"d be much more conspicuous sitting in a car for hours. Hiding in plain

sight is far more effective than sneaking into shadowy doorways. We"re an ordinary

couple out to have fun.”

“Just don"t get too friendly, right?” She threw him a mischievous smile.

Kael laughed. “I"d hate to have to restrain you.”

They spent the remainder of the day wandering around Provins, which even in

March was busy with tourists. They wandered among foreign and French visitors,

blending in with the crowd. Kael used the trick he had learned early in his career

when he needed to go unnoticed. He smiled apologetically and slouched ever so

slightly, ducking his head and avoiding eye contact. “Don"t make conversation with

anyone, even casually,” he told Mattie.

“I wish I could buy some souvenirs,” Mattie said.

Kael felt the same. He kept seeing things Angel would like and wanted to buy

presents for him. “No,” he said without margin. “Partly because we may have to

abandon the car and partly because you keep your hands free at all times to reach

Angel and the Assassin: Be Brave

93

for your weapon. Aside from that, how would you pay? Credit card? Great evidence

left behind.”

“Yes, sir.”

The sky was darkening, and the town was still busy. People wandered the

streets and sat in bright cafés and bistros. Mattie had not suggested getting food

again and had not purchased any as they walked. In the main square, Kael walked

into a bakery and bought a meat pie, a café au lait, and a bottle of water. Outside he

walked to the market cross and sat down on the stone step. He handed the pie and

the coffee to Mattie. “That will be your last food until we get home. Enjoy it.”

“Thank you, sir. Aren"t you having anything?” she asked.

He held up the bottle of water and then drained it.

“You"re an amazing teacher,” she said quietly. “I have learned so much from

you in the last eighteen hours.”

“Don"t get sentimental about me. I"m short-tempered and dangerous.”

“I know that, sir.” She bit into the pie. “This is good. Do you want a bite?”

“No.” But he was curious about what she had learned. He liked to teach, to

pass on his skills. He loved the idea of being a mentor to a clever, younger operative,

as Misha had been to him. It just couldn"t be Angel. “Tell me what you"ve learned.”

Mattie sipped her coffee. “I"ve watched the way you walked around the town

this afternoon. You"re a big, handsome man. You walked around the woods in

Herstmonceux like you owned them, upright, large and in charge. No one could

have missed you.” She laughed. “You looked like you could take on the world. But

today you did subtle things that made you blend in. Holding back instead of walking

ahead, holding doors for people.”

“I always hold doors for ladies,” he pointed out.

“Yes, sir, I"ve noticed that. But you looked apologetic and a bit shy, which is

totally not who you are. You kept your chin tucked into your chest. Your hands were

clasped behind your back, which is a very submissive pose. As handsome as you are,

you were ignored most of the time. You have a loud, commanding voice, but today

you spoke in this quiet, perfect French, like a scholar or something. It was amazing.

The whole picture came together to make you self-effacing.”

Kael acknowledged the compliments with pleasure. “You"re good,” he said. “To

notice such small changes. You see, you don"t have to do big things to change your

persona. It"s all about the details. The small details of a job are what make the

whole a success. Often all I have to do is make the big move and others take care of

the details, but on a job like this, you have to create a new gestalt. And you have to

be unflinching and ruthless, not take the job personally. You can"t let your personal

prejudices affect your work. What you feel doesn"t matter on a job.”

For a moment, Mattie looked at him the way Angel did: awestruck. “Yes, sir.”

“Are you finished?” He glanced at his watch and got up. Mattie walked quickly

at his side. Kael shortened his stride to accommodate her but kept moving quickly.

“We"ll go back to the car. You"ll drive us back to the house. I"ll show you the access

94

Fyn Alexander

road around the wall and where to wait. I anticipate being in the house no more

than twenty minutes. The only way to get the target out of the house is to

tranquilize him, which I"ll do, just enough to make him look drunk but still able to

walk. You"ll be ready to drive when I bring him through the gate in the wall.