Out of the Shadows (Akira and Deane Thriller Series Book 1) (20 page)

Burton sighed and waved his
hand, asking her to sit back down. ‘Just get them up here ok? I
feel like they’re sucking all the energy out of me you know?’ The
look on his assistant’s face went from the confused to the
bewildered. ‘If you could please Dawn, thanks.’ The heavy frame of
Burton lurched itself back to the filing cabinet, and he turned off
the lights along the way. The S.U.C.O. Commander noticed he had yet
to pickup several important satellite images and silently cursed to
himself. Before pushing the drawer closed, he caught sight of a
bottle and glass hidden at the far end. A memory came to him from
months before when it had been placed there. His mouth suddenly
felt dry and within seconds, he reached for the whiskey and poured
himself a double.

Bedford’s head snapped up
sharply as his senses registered a noise from above. His eyes, wide
and filled with terror, looked down straight away as he continued
to move along the corridor, with his prisoner shuffling along in
front of him. Coming to the office that he had originally entered
several minutes before, he pushed the pistol of his weapon firmly
against the head of his prisoner and looked around. The door was
pushed back to the wall, and there was no-one in the room. Bedford
swallowed hard and moved his head quickly in a 180-degree sweep.
The corridor was empty, and there was no sign of the other man on
the ground level where several tourists still lingered. His hostage
began to shake his head. Bedford was growing tired of the man’s
arrogance. ‘You got something to say asshole, then say it!’ He
shouted.

Arrogance
boiled up inside of Ferec, knowing it would not be long before he
would have the Government agent’s life in his hands. He spoke in a
calm voice. ‘Give yourself up my friend. This will all end in your
death either way.’

Bedford composed himself and
drew on the several years of experience he had gained in the field,
mostly based in Poland as POL1. Throughout that time, he had never
encountered anyone as arrogant or startling as the man at the end
of his pistol. He put on his most confident tone. ‘Don’t bet on it,
the only way you’ll be leaving this country is in a box you got
that?!?’ He felt a sense of accomplishment as his hostage fell
silent, but within moments, the laughter had returned. His feelings
merged with the adrenalin that flowed around his body and he
slammed down the butt of his Browning pistol with all his might.
The laughter stopped instantly as the body fell limp. Bedford
caught hold and dragged him along the corridor to the staircase.
Several of the overhead lights had failed and the dark shadows
overcame them. Bedford pulled the prisoner to his feet and gave
another sweeping glance to the silent corners of the church.

Jozef moved for the first time
in almost half an hour and put on a Priest’s robe that sat on the
shelf. The door of the wardrobe in the office, where Ferec had
entered in pursuit, was opened as Jozef stepped out and reached the
doorframe. His senses had registered that the attacker and his
friend had passed the room and were no doubt heading to the church
exit. Jozef saw him struggling to pick his friend to his feet.
Feelings of concern broke out inside of him; he had known Ferec for
many years, but the fear was pushed away as he reached for his
weapon and quickly screwed on the silencer attachment. Noting the
shortage of light he made up his mind to attack. His eyes lit up as
he stepped out and pumped his legs as hard as he could, sprinting
down the corridor. The weapon was held firm in his right hand as he
took aim.

Bedford pulled the hostage to
his feet again and placed a foot onto the first stair. Straight
away his whole body jumped as a noise came from behind. A silent
alarm went off in his head as he instinctively threw away his
hostage and swivelled as fast as he could in the opposite
direction. There, the darkness fell away at the sight of a Priest
sprinting towards him. The face ahead forced his eyes to grow ever
wider at the realisation that it was in fact the second attacker.
His mind registered a noise and realised it was his own cry of
fear. With his heart now beating at a frantic rate, Bedford lifted
his weapon to fire but his logical brain knew it was too late.
Searing pain was felt in his right shoulder as he cried out,
feeling the cold steel of a bullet impact his body. The force of
the hit pushed him off balance and the floor and ceiling switched
places, with finally, everything turning to black.

Jozef came to a
halt, tossed his mobile phone towards his friend, and rushed down
the stairs to the small crowd that was gathering around the now
redundant attacker. With the pistol concealed beneath his robe,
Jozef was thankful he was wearing the robes of a priest as the
crowd instantly made way for him. The blood emanating from his
attacker worried the gathering locals but Jozef could see the
Government agent was still breathing. The 40-year-old placed his
hands wide in the air and reassured the crowd. His robes fooled
everyone around. ‘Do not worry my friends, we will deal with this.
An ambulance has already been called.’

Jozef picked up the legs of the
fallen agent as Ferec, who looked woozy, appeared and grabbed the
head. Several onlookers spoke of their concern for moving him but
the two men quickly moved towards the exit and caught sight of the
waiting grey Mercedes car on the edge of the market square. They
dropped the body on the back seat and drove away, leaving several
crowds of people in dismay as to what had actually happened.

The car sped through the
surrounding roads at hectic pace until Jozef told the driver to
pull over on a nearby grass verge. He looked back from the front
seat and saw his close friend and ally, Ferec, point a pistol
straight at the head of their hostage. Jozef was already beginning
to tire and wanted answers. His tone was weary. ‘Now my young
friend, I ask again. What is your name and where are you staying in
this god forsaken country?’

Again, Bedford shook his head.
The shoulder wound he had sustained had now been stabilised but
pain was still written across his face.

Jozef took pleasure in
recognising this fact and gave a nod to Ferec who also sat on the
back seat.

Ferec attached
the silencer onto the end of the weapon he had been given and
pointed it in the direction of the Government agent’s right thigh.
‘This is for the bruise on the back of my head.’ He snarled. Ferec
pulled the trigger without a moment’s hesitation and the bullet
ripped into the Bedford’s leg. Screams of agony filled every inch
of the car but still no answers were given. Ferec smiled with joy
as another nod of approval was given to him. This time he aimed the
pistol at the left knee, knowing all too well it was an area of
maximum pain. More screams blasted through the vehicle.

Bedford winced as the agony
filled every inch of his body. Since his capture, he had used every
piece of mental energy he had to hide the pain in a little black
box at the far corners of his mind. He could take no more, and
wondered who in the world could. He cleared his throat and
struggled to talk. Feelings of failure came into his mind, but he
knew his limits. ‘Bedford….that’s my name….’

Jozef smiled at
Ferec with glee.
This is where the fun
begins
he thought to himself. ‘Excellent.
Now, whom do you work for, and where do you live mmm?’

‘I live in…in the flats near
the Czartoryski Museum.’

Jozef gave directions to his
driver and the car began to move. He then looked back at the
hostage. ‘Thank you. Now…who do you work for? Your other knee will
be my next target.’

Bedford swallowed, tried again
to block out the pain, but submitted to it once more. He caught
sight of the eyes of the man next to him and searched for any
humanity there but the black pistol moved to the other knee.
Bedford closed his eyes and summoned up the black box one more
time…

Olsen tasted the first mouthful
of his Lasagne and grimaced slightly at the heat but was still
pleased with the taste and prepared another.

Amidst the calm setting within
Café Uno, waiters buzzed around, other couples and business men and
women discussed the day’s events and the rain continued to hit the
windows, at times catching a few gasps of surprise from the nearest
customers.

For Rachel the rain was just
background noise, something that never registered to her. All she
could think about was where Sam was going, why, and whether she had
the strength to go through it again. She questioned herself
constantly but knew that as ever, she would find it and come
through, she loved him with all her heart, but did he really know
how she felt?

‘How was your shift?’

Rachel picked at her Salmon
fish cakes. ‘Not great, I don’t know, of late it’s all been tough
going, I haven’t been coping well.’

‘I know. I’ve been thinking
about you. Is it the level of work? Or maybe we just need a break?
Maybe we should sit down and plan-’

Rachel couldn’t take a moment
more. ‘Where are you going? Please tell me Sam…I just need to
know.’

Olsen put down his fork and
raised his eyebrows in surprise. ‘What makes you think I’m going
anywhere? Rach, I can understand-’

‘I know you…I know us. Whenever
I see that look in your eyes I know you’re going to sit there and
say you’ve got to go away again, and I just…..’ She placed a hand
over her forehead and looked away. ‘I just hate the fact that we
don’t have a normal life.’

‘You know I have been meaning
to talk to you about this. I don’t think you’ll ever know how much
I hate this side to it all. I feel so guilty, and truth be told,
you deserve so much better.’

Rachel reached out and took
hold of his hands. ‘No! Don’t say that. I’m so lucky to have you,
and I can’t lose you, I just can’t.’

A warm smile came to Olsen’s
face. ‘But you wish I did something else for a living?’

‘I can’t deny it. We’ve been
together for almost nine years now, and I know in my heart I can’t
live without you, but the thought of losing you terrifies me. Even
more so because I know I am going to lose you before I was meant
to.’

Olsen stroked her hands softly.
Just hearing the words made him feel awful. He was causing this
pain, but still he would hold onto his career, purely because he
wanted to make a difference and could feel the fire burning within
that told him he always could. ‘Rachel…’

‘When you proposed in France, I
don’t know, I guess I just assumed that things would change and you
would start to think of changing direction in your work but now
that you have this promotion and your own team, whatever it is they
do, that seems even further away. Do you know how it feels to see
you go at the airport, or kiss you goodbye at home knowing there is
a big chance you won’t come back to me?’

Olsen stared at his lasagne.
‘No….I guess I’ve just been so pre-occupied of late I haven’t been
seeing a lot of things. What happened in Oman has affected me more
than I realised.’

Rachel remembered the talks
they’d had over Oman, the first time where he had really opened up
about not only issues with his father, but his work as well. ‘I
know, I understand that, and I want to help you through this and
don’t ever think I’m not here for you, or I love you any less, I
just want you to look at other jobs. Or at least think about
them.’

A mass of questions circled in
his mind. Could he do something else? Did he have to be at MI6?
What about the Police or something entirely different? Training
perhaps? A huge wave of awareness came over him and he realised
just how selfish he had become. He reached again for her hands and
spoke with real purpose. ‘Rach, I know I’m not the easiest person
to be with and maybe I’ve been doing this for so long, I just never
considered there were other options. But the last thing I want is
for the job to become between us, or heaven forbid take you away
from me.’ He leant over the table and stroked her brown hair with
his right hand. ‘I just can’t let that happen. I’ll start to look
at other options. I give you my word I will.’

Rachel almost started to cry,
but held off, not wanting to attract any more attention than they
already had. ‘Really? I don’t want you to resent me over this, I
just want us to be together.’

‘I’ll never resent you for
anything. I want to be with you. Nothing will ever change
that.’

‘I just don’t want to change
you, but your job as it stands right now, is so dangerous I don’t
think any woman could deal with it. I really don’t. Your
determination to help people and make a difference is one of the
reasons I love you so much, but you know, you could do so much,
you’re so talented!’ Her voice sounded soft and vulnerable and she
knew it was obvious but she didn’t care, it was everything to her
to make sure Sam knew how she felt.

‘Well then I’ll start to look
at the other options. I promise you.’

Rachel smiled back at him,
hoping the change would happen. Whatever happened she just had to
trust the man she loved and that had never been a problem. Though
she felt stressed because of bringing up such a delicate issue she
was sure she could feel a shred of optimism that things would
change and those painful goodbyes would be a thing of the past.

For Olsen, he went back to his
lasagne and felt a surge of guilt continue to consume him. How had
he become so wrapped up in the job? How could he hurt Rachel this
way? More than anything he wanted to make a decision there and then
to break the cycle and leave the service, but something held him
back and he so desperately wanted to know what that was.

Burton emerged
from Cartography Analysis clutching several satellite images of
Kraków, Poland. The double whiskies he had downed some minutes
before were helping to calm him as he took a quick look at the
fuzzy images that had been downloaded from a C.I.A. satellite. His
usual efficiency and interest in his work were quickly dissipating,
as his mind struggled to think of anything other than Kate and
Oscar, his wife and son. Toppling world leaders or protecting
National Security came a distant second, if that. Burton focussed
every ounce of energy he had on walking in a straight line to his
office. The look he received from his assistant was once again
ignored, as the door swung open to reveal the Chief of MI6;
Elliott, waiting by the desk.