“Where am I?” Anya felt a hand clasp her throat from behind and grip hard, cutting off the air supply. After a few seconds, it relented and she spluttered, her chin dropping forward onto her chest.
“I ask the questions,” said Nikolaev. “What do you know about him? The queer told us you were close friends.”
“I hardly knew him,” said Anya, her anger preventing her from crying in front of Nikolaev. “He hasn’t been at the school very long. They asked me to mentor him.”
“Were you fucking him?”
“No!”
“Not even once?”
“No! Not even once.”
Nikolaev smirked and signaled to the guard standing behind her, who took off the handcuffs. “Where is he now?”
“He went to Kazakhstan. I don’t know anything else.”
“Did he ever say anything about working for the British police?”
“No, I swear.”
Nikolaev walked round the table and stood in front of her, looking down. Her head jolted back as he grabbed her cheeks and squeezed, forcing her to look back up at him “Well, he does work for the British police. And that makes me suspicious of you.” Anya’s anger was replaced with fear and a few tears escaped from her eyes. She grabbed his wrist, but couldn’t force him to release his grip. He threw her head back and slapped her round the face.
“You’re going to help us.”
“I’ll never do anything to help you,” she said, the rage leaping back into her eyes.
“I expected as much from someone who spends their day poisoning the minds of young people with a foreign culture.”
He slapped her face again.
“You’re coming with us,” said Nikolaev, as the man in the shadows walked up alongside him. “Put the hood back on.”
- Chapter 29 -
Stanley
Stanley Bay was still. A few punters sat hunched over their drinks at the pub near the water, enjoying the Hong Kong night. Varndon slipped past them towards the jetty. A low hum of voices floated over from Murray House where diners soaked in the building’s colonial splendor over expensive seafood. Ashansky turned towards him as he approached the end of the wooden platform. Gershov was crouched on his haunches, eating tiny sunflower seeds from a bag and spitting the black shells onto the deck.
“You can almost pretend you still have an empire here,” said Ashanksy.
“People in glass houses and all that,” replied Varndon.
“People in what?”
“Nothing.” Varndon kicked one of Gershov’s shells away from his foot. “Alpha’s not happy. What the hell happened with Harper?”
“He jumped in a sewage pipe.”
“Well, why didn’t you throw one of your people in after him?”
“Look, you think I don’t want that piece of shit dead as much as you?”
“I doubt it. He saw me shoot an officer of MI6. Do you know what that could mean for me?”
“We will give you job,” said Gershov, cackling and displaying bits of sunflower seed lodged in his yellowing teeth.
“I’ll get back to you thanks,” said Varndon, looking over his shoulder as a couple strolled onto the jetty. “We should move.”
They followed Varndon onto a path covered by overhanging trees. They wound their way up and back down again, emerging onto an enclosed beach. Gershov hung back on the path as Varndon and Ashansky moved down closer to the water. An oil slick from a dumped engine blackened the sand next to the rocks.
“You need to find him,” said Varndon.
Ashansky stepped forward towards him. “Are you giving me orders now?”
“We put our necks on the line getting you out of jail so you could kill him Leonid. That’s what you wanted wasn’t it?”
“You think I’m stupid? You got me out of there because you knew sooner or later those fucking cops would come asking me questions about Cavendish.”
“The reasons are immaterial. You want Harper and we need Vitsin. We have to work together or everyone loses.”
Ashansky grunted and stepped back. “What do you plan on doing with the Vitsin kid once you get hold of him?”
“That’s our business.”
“That’s right. You people like your secrets.”
“Do the Russians know you’re working with us?”
“No. I am a good customer for their weapons. That’s their only concern.”
“Do they know where their weapons are going?”
“They don’t care if they are being used to kill IRA or fucking Eskimos. They just want the money.”
“Sounds about right.”
Gershov whistled as a couple of backpackers wound their way down onto the beach. They retraced their steps, passing the chattering teenagers on the way and walked back past the jetty into an empty market square.
“He has to surface sometime,” said Varndon. “When he does, he’ll lead us to Vitsin. And then we need to take him out. No mistakes this time.”
Ashansky slapped Varndon on the arm. “You know, you are starting to remind me more and more of Yuri.” Gershov sniffed and spat the contents of his nose onto the pavement. “He’s also a ruthless bastard.”
“It’s just a shame your snappy little pet doesn’t always do his job.” Gershov moved forward and Ashansky put his hand up to hold him back.
Ashansky laughed. “Be careful Mr Banker, he bites.”
Varndon turned his head as he walked off down the road. “If you lose Harper again, you’ll find out how ruthless I can really be.”
- Chapter 30 -
No Going Back
Harper threw the newspaper into the bin and sat down on a wooden bench. He closed his eyes, but the image of Garrett and his young family was seared into his mind. Reporter Danny Garrett, 28, murdered. Harper punched down on the bench, cutting his knuckle. As he watched the blood trickle over his fingers, his phone rang in his pocket.
“Harper, it’s Morton. Thank Christ you’re alive. Where are you?”
“I’m in Hong Kong.”
“Listen, Harper, things have changed. We need you to come home.”
“You’re not joking things have changed.”
“The operation’s been compromised. Just come back.”
“I’ve just been shot at by people I spent a year trying to put behind bars. Is that what you mean by compromised?”
“Ashansky and Gershov work for MI6 Harper. They killed Cavendish and now they’re after you. You have to listen to me and get the hell out of there.”
“Does the Commissioner know all this? Bailey?”
“They shut us down. They haven’t got the stomach to fight Vauxhall Bridge.”
“Have you?”
“What are you talking about?” said Morton.
“I’m not coming back. I’m not finished here.”
“Harper, it’s over. Forget about Vitsin.”
“It might be over for you Guv, but not me.”
“What do you mean?”
“I saw one of our gentleman spies shoot his partner in the head a few days ago. Do you really think they’re going to let me walk the streets in peace?”
“We can protect you.”
“Can you protect me against Ashansky too? And what about the Russians? They’ve already killed a friend of mine, do you think they’ll stop there?
“You’ve got more chance here than you have there. Just come home.”
“I haven’t got a choice guv.”
“Harper, please, don’t do this. If you come back, the force can protect you. If you start pursuing some crazy revenge mission, they’ll deny they ever knew you.”
“And those are the people you want me to trust with my life?”
“Come back. Please.”
“I’m sorry guv. I have to finish this.”