A/N: Thank you for the reviews, I wasn't sure whether or not to continue with this, but have been encouraged to thanks to the reviews.
See Prologue I for disclaimer, in this chapter I own Vaskov and Borushka and anyone else I previously mentioned. The rest, I'm borrowing... hope I don't get any overdue fines…
ST PETERSBURG.
Bond and Kain flew into the Pulkovo II International Airport the next day; the city plunged into near darkness despite the early hour. They had arrived in St. Petersburg, the 'Venice of the North', built by Peter the Great on the northern delta as a defence against Sweden. As the plane swooped down towards the airport Ashleigh watched the land below her, the hundreds of islands forming the city, pounded by the cold northern sea. Ashleigh felt nothing but anticipation at the sight of the land below her; she had visited Russia several times, but always Moscow, never the city that had withstood the two and a half year siege during World War II through pure pride.
James noticed her eagerness, and her excitement at their journey's conclusion. It was the first time that her professionalism had slipped since they had met at the airport.
'Just remember we're here for a reason, so the sightseeing will have to wait,' he murmured to her.
She spun to face him, anger clear on her face until she realised he was teasing her. 'As long as you remember that as well,' she smirked at him, knowing full well his reputation for admiring the opposite sex. Already she had caught a few women glancing interestedly in his direction.
He smiled wryly, and shook out a newspaper, burying his head in the news of the day.
Caleb Deronda was a tall man, over six feet, with olive skin, and brown hair that wanted to curl. He had been educated in America, excelling in microbiology and later business studies. Usually calm and composed, his face was now flushed an angry red, and he paced through his office, glaring at the man that stood silently watching him.
He growled. 'I don't like bad news.'
The other man remained silent. It was easier to sit the anger out rather than to argue.
Deronda peered out of the small window, rubbing the stubble that lined his strong jaw. 'So he refused our generous offer?'
The other man nodded.
'You made sure that it cannot be traced back here?'
'Yes.'
'Good.' That was something at least. 'You have new orders.'
The man waited patiently to hear them.
'Vaskov will be removed.'
That was to be expected. The second order would be more awkward.
'Are you a discreet man?' Deronda asked.
Borushka sweated. 'Of course…' he mumbled.
'I no longer want your discretion.' Borushka frowned, puzzled, and more than a little afraid.
He was even more disturbed when Deronda began to smile.
'I want you to be indiscreet. Mouth off. Go out, get drunk, and speak to anyone who might be interested.'
'You want me to talk about you and the…'
Deronda spun round, anger once more on his face. 'No. Not me. I want you to link our little project with another man. You know who. The British Intelligence are already aware of Hermes. They would be most interested to discover who is supposedly behind it all.'
The anger faded once more. It would give Deronda great pleasure to see this rival destroyed. His order to Borushka was the final nail in the coffin.
Despite Bond's assurance that they would not have anytime for sightseeing, Ashleigh was still seeing more of the city than she had ever dared to hope. However, with the cold wind blasting in from the sea, and the snow flurrying around her face, she would have rather been indoors. Her black wool coat, seemed too thin, her hands were numb despite the gloves she wore, and the wind still stung her face, no matter how deep she buried it into the scarf she wore.
They walked through the Palace Square towards the Alexander Column. To the north, the dramatically pretty Baroque style Winter Palace stood, facing to the south the former headquarters of the Imperial Army, with its Triumphal Arch. Ashleigh gave nothing more than the briefest glance in their direction, instead keeping her head down, and her eyes half closed against the snow and the wind.
The local residents hurried about their business, shaking their heads, and muttering about the madness of foreign tourists. Apart from Kain and Bond, there were a few, eagerly discussing the architecture and the legends behind the buildings. Therefore it was easy to spot the man they were assigned to meet.
He stood at the base of the column, collar turned up against the wind, trying to light a cigarette, but the wind kept snatching the flame away, no matter what angle he stood at. With a muttered curse, he stuffed the lighter back into a pocket, and looked up as Bond approached, with Kain a few steps behind.
'You're late,' he said in accented English.
'The trains.' Bond apologised smoothly.
The man smiled. 'Isn't it odd how the trains effect the taxis?' He held his hand out to Bond. 'Vasili Dmitrov.'
Bond smiled and shook the proffered hand; he had no time for the formalities of espionage. 'Bond, James Bond. And this is Ashleigh Kain, also with MI6.'
Dmitrov nodded at Kain. He was tall, and thin, with Slavic cheekbones, eyes as dark as obsidian, with matching smudges beneath, and a thin mouth. His black curls fell over his pale forehead, and he moved with the grace of a dancer. 'You are cold?' he asked, but didn't wait for an answer. 'We'll go somewhere out of the wind.'
In a small dark bar, they exchanged knowledge of the assignment. Dmitrov talked rapidly and quietly, Kain had to lean forward to catch his words.
'Hermes was offered to a member of the Russian government, Roman Vaskov. He at once understood what was being offered, but decided that it would be better to decline the generous offer. Understandably, he is now convinced that his life in danger.' Dmitrov shrugged. 'Which of course, it is, our duty is to preserve it.'
'Why?' Bond asked.
Dmitrov ran a hand through his curls. 'He may not be a strong man, but he is a powerful man. The weak ones usually are. It would be most displeasing if anything happened to him, and to his bank account.'
Bond nodded, understanding perfectly. So be it, Vaskov was to be protected. 'What else?'
'There is to be a shipment tonight. Weapons, cash, or Hermes itself, we don't know, but we do know where. And whoever is running the scheme will be there.'
'Do we know his identity?'
Dmitrov frowned. 'No. Whoever it is works underground, rarely surfaces long enough for our intelligence to discover anything about him. And it isn't through a lack of trying. We've been waiting for a year or so now to find out exactly who this person is and what he is dealing with. This is the clearest opportunity we have had so far. Are you willing to assist?'
Bond glanced at Kain. 'Of course.'