Out of the Shadows (Akira and Deane Thriller Series Book 1) (29 page)

Olsen looked
back at Rachel and put his arm around her as they both approached
the gates of MI6. ‘So I did it. I joined MI6. I was 20, had left
University early, a novice and I really didn’t have a clue as to
what I was getting myself into.’ He remembered his life from almost
a decade before. ‘I joined MI6 for my Dad. When he died, it just
felt right to me, you know? Despite all the pain and stress I had
seen my Dad endure, there were so many moments where he had helped
other people on levels you can only imagine. Before I knew it, I
was in Iraq with Tom and there we were, right in the thick of
things.’

Rachel closed
her eyes and remembered when she had said goodbye to Olsen at the
airport, all those years ago. It had been the first time she had
felt that raw pain and it had gotten worse from then on in. ‘I
still remember when you left. I didn’t think you were going to come
back. I was so scared. It felt so final.’

A warm smile
came over Olsen’s face. ‘I don’t think I ever really thought about
it. It all happened so fast. Not that I’ve ever told Tom this but
there’s no doubt I wouldn’t have come back if it wasn’t for him.’
He shook his head in disbelief. ‘He was one hell of a
teacher.’

Rachel had
never heard Sam talk about Deane much and knew they hadn’t always
gotten along but she could see the respect in his eyes. ‘When did
you last talk to him?’

Olsen lowered
his head, regretful about his forthcoming answer. ‘When I was in
Oman; I was going to get in touch but it’s just been a bit awkward
between us. I wouldn’t really know what to say to him about this
inquiry. It’s almost like a failure. That’s how he would see it
anyway.’

‘I’m sure
that’s not true.’ Asked Rachel, keen to know more as Sam had only
ever spoke about him from a Government agent’s point of view, never
lifelong friend or father figure.

Olsen pushed
away the nightmare that had tormented him just months before and
remembered just what Deane had done for him. ‘Tom’s just always
been there for me. As a kid, right through the years to now. In
many ways, it was like having a second father.’ Olsen held his girl
tight and stroked her hair. ‘I should have called him,
Rach…’

‘I’m sure he’d
come to this inquiry if he knew about it. Why don’t you call
him?’

‘Well, Tom
knows everything anyway, no doubt he’s already heard about the
inquiry and he’s just waiting for me to call him. First chance I
get, I will. Look, I’d better go.’ He gave her a long kiss. ‘Wish
me luck, Rach.’

Rachel didn’t
want to let go but eventually released her hold and smiled back at
her man. ‘Call me as soon as it’s over; I’ll be here as soon as I
can.’ she said softly. Rachel pushed away the hope he would be
forced to leave and be set free from the world of MI6 that seemed
impossible to leave by choice.

Olsen showed
his pass to the checkpoint and approached the doors to MI6
headquarters, not wanting to acknowledge the anxiety that was
building with every step.

Marraud floored
the accelerator of the Lada and heard the vehicle cry out under the
strain of the sudden demand. His life flashed before his eyes for
the hundredth time as images of his beloved Martine lingered, the
stunning young woman who had captured his heart so many years ago.
In the heat of the moment, Marraud remembered the tragedy of her
death and felt the raw pain spear his heart once more. Eight years
before, he had let her get too close and she had been killed purely
because of who he was and the job that he did. Ever since, a day
hadn’t passed without the guilt consuming him.

A sense of urgency came over
him, more powerful than any he had ever experienced. There was no
time for grief; his own light was in danger of being extinguished
forever.

Akira was
determined to take Marraud hostage; now more convinced than ever to
reveal himself and give the Frenchman a real chance to be saved. He
put one arm around Marraud’s neck and tried to move him.

To hell with
driving, I’ll take the devil with me if needs be.
Marraud struggled to contain the strength of his
attacker and couldn’t prevent him from climbing into the adjacent
front seat. Never once checking his vision through the window, he
focussed all his energy on the fight and lashed out, catching the
mystery man by surprise and making direct contact with his face.
The masked man fell back and Marraud took his chance. Climbing out
of the driver’s seat, he grappled with him and tried to force him
out the door.

Akira held on
desperately and felt the wind lashing against him. Suddenly the car
shuddered and came to a crashing stop.

Marraud looked
up and saw the car had hit a phone box on the side of the road.
Feeling his attacker’s daze, he took his chance. With every ounce
of strength, he smashed his head into that of the mystery man and
then kicked him out of the car.

Akira lay on
the snow covered grass and tried to catch his breath. He told
himself repeatedly he wasn’t attempting to fight but he couldn’t
deny it, even if he was it would still be a struggle. ‘Wait!’ he
yelled.

Marraud stopped
in his tracks. He never expected to hear a European accent; he had
been convinced he was fighting one of Salenko’s Russian
heavies.

Akira slowly
rose to his feet. His left hand appeared to support him but it
moved the ten-inch knife that was strapped to his back into
position, just in case his attempt failed. ‘I have no interest in
fighting you.’

Marraud
couldn’t believe what he was hearing and still couldn’t place the
accent. ‘You’re with Salenko, it’s in your nature to
fight.’

‘You’re wrong. I am guiding
Salenko to bring balance to this world. There must be change to
save it. You know that just as much as I do.’

Marraud started to move away
from the car and circle his opponent. ‘Absolutely. Do the right
thing and stand down from this election. I won’t be the first to
come here and stop you.’

‘They will all
fail. I have foreseen all of this. Salenko will be the next
President and there will be massive change.’ Akira stepped forward
and his voice took on another level of power. ‘Join me.’

The very words made him sick to
his stomach and it took him several moments to believe what had
just happened. As he stared in disbelief at the attacker every bone
in his body immediately said no. There was never any chance he
would align himself with the enemy. Turn his back on what he’d
spent his life protecting? Betray Martine after everything that had
happened?

‘You know I’m
right, Patrice. You’re nothing more than a drone. You carry out
orders with no clue of the consequences. You think they care about
you? Are thankful of everything you have done? Never. The West is
finished, it cannot be fixed.’ Akira held out his hand and so
desperately wanted a sign to show that his efforts were worthwhile.
His voice was tinged with emotion as he extended his fingertips.
‘Come back with me.’

Marraud was
seething now. The attacker knew his name and seemed convinced there
was a chance of changing his allegiance. Why? Just how much did he
know? His mind was racing with options and each of them was an act
of defiance. There was simply no doubt, he would rather die than
join them. Martine was gone and could never return; the inhumane
animal ahead of him and all his type were responsible.

‘You know I’m
right.’ Akira said again. As the words left his lips, he knew it
was pointless. The look of hatred on the Frenchman’s face was
unmistakable.

‘I have no idea
what this is about but know this, I’m here to stop you and I will
never join your cause. Quite simply, I would rather
die.’

‘Like Martine?’ Akira asked
quietly. His left hand flashed behind him and took hold of the
large blade.

‘Who are you?’
Marraud took several steps forward, his face red with
anger.

Akira ignored
the move and held the blade out in front of him. His voice changed
to one of pure evil. ‘So be it.’ He had done all he could do, but
Madeline was right, Patrice was too far gone; it was not his fault
but he couldn’t be allowed to interfere any longer.

Marraud dodged
away from the first attack that was heading for his chest and
ducked instinctively to the second. Moving away, he struggled to
focus on what was happening and could barely control the rage
inside of him at the attacker for taking Martine’s name in vain.
‘Who are you?’ He screamed.

Akira didn’t
hear a word. He was lost in concentration and moved in for the kill
once again.

The blade
slashed repeatedly around Marraud and still he dodged death,
weaving around the attacks. Using his own brand of the Israeli Krav
Maga fighting style he did enough to give himself some space to
ready himself and find the stance he was looking for. Still the
attacks came but with his reactions primed and his own kicks and
defensive reposes now working well, he slowly started to invade his
opponent’s space.

Akira kept attacking with the
blade and moved deeper into one of the several fighting styles he
was a master of, each time getting closer and closer swinging
faster and faster.

Marraud
flinched and just got out of the way of the blade, which slashed
his jacket. Risk taking was not his usual style but he was well
aware he wouldn’t last long in such a frantic battle. His own
weapon was still in his car and that was a long way away.
Throughout it all though, he was certain he had faced this man
before, the style, the movements, all of it seemed
familiar.

Akira knew
exactly what was happening. Marraud was making his move and slowly
invading more and more of his space and he had deliberately kept
his style and pace on an even keel so as to fool his opponent that
it was being successful.

With one swift
change, it happened. Akira switched from Taekwondo to the very
different Wing Chun form of hand-to-hand combat and straight away
it reaped dividends. His swings became shorter and the rapid
movement was now more of a horizontal mix.

Marraud
struggled with the change and felt his footing give way. The blade
came closer to his chest and with a last gasp of effort he evaded
it and grabbed hold of Akira’s arm.

The two
grappled for the blade. Marraud had a desperate look on his face
but slowly he started to overpower Akira. Or was he? His focus was
on the blade and nothing more, it was all he could do. With every
passing moment he was blinded by the fear that he may not see
tomorrow and it cost him dearly.

Akira’s feet
moved away initially and then twisted back towards Marraud giving
him the initiative and body weight. Straight away, the Frenchman
faltered and the blade was free. Akira spun away from him in one
turn and lashed behind him with knife, making contact.

Marraud felt
the cold metal in his side and shuddered with pain. It had
penetrated his stomach and he dared not look down. He felt the
weapon snap out of his side and grabbed it with his left
hand.

The pain was
intense. Marraud knew immediately what the odds were of his
survival. Despite it all, a powerful determination rose inside of
him that screamed it would prove to be his day. His own
stubbornness and sheer refusal to die fuelled the power that took
hold of him. Images of Martine came to the forefront of his mind as
he smashed the remaining knife against his side and watched it drop
into the snow.
This man and all of his
type were responsible for Martine’s death. I will NOT give
in.

Akira stumbled
back and felt his wrist, not knowing where this sudden power had
come from.

Despite the
warm feeling of blood on his shirt, Marraud moved towards Akira and
unleashed a battering of blows, all of them focussed with pure
skill in his Krav Maga form. The image of Martine’s smile and the
sound of her laugh had gone forever. He forced Marraud to move
himself with an agility that didn’t seem possible.

Akira just didn’t have any
answers and surrendered under such a barrage, until finally a
roundhouse kick smashed into his left temple and he flew backwards
and landed in a heap in the snow.

Marraud made
his way back to the Lada and for the first time, his blue eyes now
with tints of grey, glanced downward and saw his entire shirt
covered in blood. Immediately, that sight sapped the strength from
him and his hands clutched the deep gash in his side.

With the engine
still running, he floored the accelerator and guided the car down
the hill. The pain from his stomach was unbearable. As his vision
began to fade away to darkness he tried to summon up one last
effort for Martine and for all the agents who would perish if the
Russian election went the mystery man’s way.

Chapter 19

Friday, March 16
^th
11:00,

Moscow, Russia.

Akira sat alone and cleared his thoughts
as best he could. Images of Patrice Marraud flashed by in his mind
and with them fragments of the memory he had lost long ago.

Marraud is badly wounded my love, he is
weakening as we speak. Push away the feelings you have for him. He
must be killed. What will it be? Our vision or a man who doesn’t
want to be saved and will destroy us all?