Chapter Five
As they snuck through the dimmest backstreets of the city, Yassen glanced at the girl beside him and wondered once again on the human condition. Last night she'd been a whore; today she was a normal young woman, clean and pretty. Even the expression in her eyes had changed. She was no longer innocent and eager, she was intelligent and wary.
Her wariness didn't surprise him. He had that effect on a lot of people.
Some men would take advantage, he knew. Her looks, although changed from the last time he'd seen her, were equally appealing, if not more. Yassen found women much more agreeable than Klunt's girls. He was no longer repulsed, in fact he felt drawn to her. He was used to studying himself in order to improve himself, and he recognised physical attraction. She was a woman he'd look at in the street, but whether that was all he couldn't yet say.
He knew he could have beaten the location of the disc out of her, in the deserted building, and he thought about why he hadn't.Yassen didn't like to think it was simply her looks. He didn't make a habit of hurting women, especially young attractive ones, but neither would he be stopped in his plans if a woman were in his way.
No… he thought. It's not that. It's because of what she did. She killed Klunt skilfully, and escaped from under my nose. I don't know many people who could do that…
In fact, he could only think of one, and than man was dead. John Rider had taught him, and had always been his equal.
So he took her with him because an attachment had been formed. She had earned his respect.
And she doesn't even look like she could hurt a fly. Yassen smiled to himself, and Kalina glanced at him and frowned, probably wondering what his expression meant.
As they were come to a crossroads and Kalina stood studying a street sign, Yassen's phone rang.
"Yes?" he said. Kalina looked on curiously.
"We have intercepted some calls" a voice on the other end said. "Patel is staying at the The Hilton, Alexander Street"
"He has bribed police" Yassen said, "He is searching for me"
"The girl?"
"With me. We are leaving the city" He saw Kalina raise an eyebrow and raised one back.
Silence on the other end for a moment, then,
"A helicopter will be waiting for you, on the Outlook"
"Right"
Yassen cut the connection and looked at Kalina. "Where is the Outlook?"
"Erm… it's a lookout point above the city, a hill to the north…" she looked up at the sky, obscured by buildings along the narrow streets.
"That way" Yassen, obviously with the better sense of direction, nodded down one of the streets.
"What's happening?" Kalina asked. "Who was that"
"We are going to a helicopter" Yassen said. "You do not need to know who that was"
Kalina shrugged.
As they moved, she'd been thinking. She could drop the disc off almost any time without Gregorovich noticing, and retrieve it later. Only she was supposed to tell him where it was once they were out of the city. When he found it wasn't in the location she gave him, he would kill her. If she told him its real location within the city, he would kill her for telling him in the first place that it wasn't in the city. If she managed to get a call to her bosses so they picked up the disc first, he would kill her. If he caught her trying to make a call to her bosses, he would kill her, unless she hadn't disclosed the location of the disc yet, and then he only might kill her. Or lose the tenuous trust he was showing in her, torture the location out of her, and then kill her.
A singular outcome, she decided.
Kalina knew her best chance was to make a call to her bosses and arrange a drop. But avoiding Yassen long enough to do that seemed near impossible, and leaving him would mean escaping Patel alone. She felt safer with the Russian assassin.
She decided to take an opportunity to make a call if one arose, otherwise she'd keep their deal.
I did after all make a deal with him Kalina thought as they headed north. She thought Gregorovich the kind of man to keep his word, and she had never broken promises made when it came to business. She wasn't sure if she could betray him.
All's fair in love and war she said to herself, resolving to wait and see.
It took almost an hour to reach the Outlook, through alleyways and derelict buildings, under a railway bridge where they disturbed some homeless men. Kalina was beginning to think no-one was searching for them, and said as much to Gregorovich. He made a derisive sound.
"I am sure they are watching, they wish us to lead them to the disc. Then they will strike"
"So… what do you propose we do?"
They had been climbing steadily for a few minutes, and as the buildings opened out it became clear they were on the lower slopes of a grassy hill. A few trees studded the top, and a family played football not far away. Yassen scanned the skies, looking for his chopper.
"I think we should lay low, and retrieve the disc later"
"We?" Kalina didn't want to be left alone, but was surprised the assassin had included her in his statement. He looked at her.
"Yes. Your dying would not be useful"
"Oh…"
The way he said it was so matter-of-fact, yet surely he could still just make her tell him once they were in a safe place and get rid of her afterwards.
I must be insurance she thought. As long as I'm alive I've good reason not to lie.
A low thrumming sound could be heard now, growing steadily louder. Off to the west a black speck appeared in the sky. Quickly, it neared, and Yassen tookKalina's arm and pulled her up the hill as the black chopper came in to land. When it was down he opened the door and pushed her in first, and got in next to her so she was sat between him and the pilot.
The pilot, a young dark-haired man, looked at Gregorovich, who pulled on a headset and said something to him which was lost above the noise of the blades. The chopper rose into the air and lurched before moving off; Yassen put an arm across the woman to stop her falling off the chair.
He wasn't sure how he'd managed to get himself saddled with her. Even when he'd seen her outside the café he hadn't envisaged still being with her this late in the day. Patel had certainly complicated matters. Now he was taking her to his safe-house, one of the few places in the world he spent any amount of time in. No-one had ever been there except for his pilot and a few of his associates. Certainly not a woman.
He wasn't entirely happy about that. He didn't want to show her anything personal about himself, but how could she fail to notice the personal touches to what was the closest thing he had to a home?
Shesat silently between the two men.Yassen hadfelt her stiffen when the chopper lurched, but whether that was to stay still or because he'd touched her, he wasn't sure. He wondered if he repulsed her; he thought she was intimidated by him, but how much of that was just his reputation, again he didn't know. He almost hoped she didn't find him repulsive; after all, she'd managed to pretend to be a whore to Peter Klunt and Yassen knew he was no Peter Klunt. On the other hand, such things were below him. He was an assassin and owed her nothing, only a mild respect for what she'd achieved. He had already decided to keep her as safe as he could and then let her go when all this was over. That was enough.
A short flight later they had arrived at the safe-house. It was a large bungalow nestled in the hills, stone-built and wood, with a long wooden porch and a large garage underneath. Steps cut into the hillside led to the helicopter pad, and a narrow winding approach was the only way up by road. From the front of the house the whole valley was visible, and Kalina immediately noticed the lack of any visible security. She was sure, however, that there was some. In fact, Gregorovich had the whole place covered. He'd know if anyone had entered while he wasn't there, and alarms would trigger if anyone so much as started up the road towards the house or crossed an invisible perimeter on any side.
Gregorovich jumped from the chopper and offered Kalina his hand, which she took out of reflex more than need. His grip was strong as he helped her down and she had the silliest thought about chivalry which almost made her laugh out loud. On looking below the landing pad to the valley spread out before her, and the isolation of the house, the urge disappeared when she realised just how alone she was. This was Gregorovich's territory.
He led the way down the steep steps to the driveway, crossed the entrance to the underground garage and went up the short flight to the wooden porch and the front door, innocuous-looking wood with an eye-hole for examining visitors.
Gregorovich put his eye to the hole and waited a few seconds. There were a series of clicks, and the door swung open. As Kalina passed inside she saw that the wood was a false front. The door was actually made of three-inch thick steel with several deadbolts. The pilot followed close behind her into the dim interior.
A long hallway split the house in two. To the left was a spacious living room with comfortable sofas and a cosy-looking log fireplace, and a huge kitchen with a dining table in front of a picture-window with a view of the craggy hills behind the house. Another corridor branched off the first to the right, where Kalina assumed bedrooms and bathrooms were situated. She caught a glimpse of a stairway leading up into the attic, before she was past the corridor and walking into the kitchen. Gregorovich picked up a phone from the counter and turned round.
"Go into the lounge" he said dismissively, and the pilot took Kalina's arm from behind and pulled her from the room.
"Hey…" she said, shrugging him off. "I can walk you know. Erm… can I use the bathroom?"
"Down there, at the end" the pilot pointed down the second corridor and motioned to his own eyes, then to hers in an 'I'm watching you' gesture. Kalina nodded and stalked off towards the bathroom.
She did need to go, but thought it an excellent opportunity to try and contact her employers. Finding her motel room empty when they rang they would have called her mobile. Hearing nothing, she could only assume a drop hadn't yet been arranged.
The doors along the hallway were shut. There were three of them, two to the front and one to the back. Kalina assumed one was Gregorovich's bedroom.
To think I'm in his house she mused. She knew it probably wasn't his actual house; that would be somewhere completely secret, but she could still feel his presence everywhere. The hall was lined with several prints and Kalina paused to look at one. It was a medieval allegorical picture, full of symbols and hidden meanings. With more than a little surprise Kalina realised she could see brushstrokes. It was genuine.
The bathroom at the end of the hall was large and airy, with a high opaque window letting in plenty of light. The whole thing was tiled making it a wetroom like Peter Klunt's, only it was functional and masculine rather than elaborate and garish. The tiles were slate-coloured. In fact, Kalina decided, they probably were slate. The sink was glass, as was the front of the large shower cubicle. Against the right-hand wall, it contained a slate-tiled bench and the glass door slid aside to allow entry. It could easily fit a few people inside. Gregorovich was obviously a man who appreciated style and comfort. By the sink stood a blue toothbrush in a glass. Kalina wondered if it was the Russian's or his pilot's.
She quickly used the toilet and washed her hands, then dug her phone out of a pocket of her trousers and entered the special number reserved for emergencies.
The other end rang once, twice, three times…
Quick strides outside the door made her look sharply towards it; the handle turned and Kalina lowered the phone from her ear, knowing she'd locked the door but feeling the flood of adrenalin of someone who's been caught red-handed.
As she was about to open her mouth to protest she was still busy, the lock unclicked and Gregorovich burst through the door. In two strides he was upon her, grabbing her wrist and pushing her against the wall below the window. He leaned down so his face was inches from hers, and squeezed her wrist hard until her fingers released the phone and she yelped in pain.
"What do you think you are doing?" Gregorovich said, voice a low growl.
"I…" Kalina stuttered. There was no point denying it. Pretending she was just calling for a pizza would probably get her killed.
Gregorovich looked angry. "Did you not think I would know the second you placed a call? Do you think me so naïve?"
Kalina tried to shrink into the wall, but it was no use. The slate was cold against her back and the tall man was firmly holding her there. His eyes flickered across her face.
"Who were you calling?"
Kalina stayed silent.
"WHO!" This was a shout, and Gregorovich's hands were suddenly on her arms, grabbing roughly. Kalina shut her eyes.
"My employers…" she whispered, and opened one eye a crack. She could feel his breath, his strong fingers digging into her arms. He exuded barely-constrained power and deadly grace, and not for the first time she felt real fear of him. She'd never given him such reason to hurt her before, and she was certain he would now.
Gregorovich bent swiftly down and picked up the phone, barely letting go of her arm as he did so. He looked at it for a moment, then smashed it against the wall by Kalina's head. Plastic cracked and splintered beneath his hand, and she winced. Gregorovich's eyes were locked on hers as he let the mangled remains fall to the ground.
"Do not do that again" he enunciated slowly. Kalina barely nodded.
"I had to try" she said, her voice stronger than she felt. He leaned back a few inches and raised an eyebrow.
"No you did not. We had a deal."
He took a deep breath and let it out, the said,
"If you try anything else, I will torture you and then kill you. Do we have an understanding?"
Kalina nodded, and Gregorovich pulled back.
The flush of rage over, he seemed to be considering. His grip had slackened slightly so it was no longer painful, but Kalina was still firmly pinned.
"You are not a man to be played with, are you Gregorovich?" she said. She was trying to stand up as straight as possible, look defiant. He scared the hell out of her but she wouldn't cower from him.
He scowled at her. "No" he snapped, and pulled her from the wall. Dragging her from the bathroom, he opened the first door on the left and pushed her inside.
"What are you…" Kalina began, but Gregorovich blocked the doorway and interrupted her.
"You will think about what you have done" he said. "Think long and hard. Then, you will tell me the location of the disc when I come for you"
"How long…"
He shut the door, and Kalina heard it lock.
She looked around. She was in a bedroom. There was a single bed against one wall, devoid of sheets, and a shallow walk-in closet. The window, again quite high in the wall so she'd have to stand on tip-toes to see out of it, was strengthened glass and didn't open. There was no other furniture. Feeling angry, despairing, but rather glad to be alive, Kalina sat down on the bed to wait.
Yassen went into the living room and glared at his pilot. The man had been involved in two annoyances to Gregorovich in less than 24 hours. First, he'd been the one Yassen sent to the brothel and had relied on the Madame to send a suitable girl without even asking to see her, then he'd trusted Kalina to use the bathroom on her own. The pilot shrugged innocently.
"She said she needed to go!"
Yassen sighed and sat down. "Next time, watch her"
The pilot grimaced, then inexplicably brightened. "What about if she wants a shower?"
Yassen awarded him another glare.
In the kitchen he had called his employers and informed them of the situation. They would deploy people to find and neutralise Patel. Yassen knew that Patel would be looking for him, but since there were no signs that the helicopter had been observed, and the pilot had taken a very circuitous route through the mountains, he was reasonably sure they were safe for now. Once Patel had been taken care of by his associates, Yassen would return for the disc. He'd locked the girl in the room because she had angered him and he didn't want her loose in his house. Although she had stood up to him and had not cracked underneath his anger, he knew that she was afraid. He would leave her alone to calm down. He could tell that if he tried to get information from her by force she would withstand him; she had that look in her eye. If he spared her and went to her as a friend later she would tell him out of thanks.
Sometimes winning trust was more effective than creating fear.
A/N: Locked up like a naughty child! Heheh, maybe Yassen has finished being nice. Thank you for all the reviews, i hope they continue! This is set after John Rider's death, before Yassen becomes involved with Alex. Weaving it into the Alex story would have been rather complicated. Anyway...hit review!