Chapter Four: Tears

That talk to Georgia on Thursday had really given me a new perspective on this mission and I wasn't entirely sure if that was a good idea. I knew that I was beginning to not think of my targets as targets. For all I knew, Georgia could have been telling me a fast one, but I somehow knew that she wasn't. But apart from the new dilemma that faced me, Thursday had been fantastic. "A turning point" as Harry had put it.

Friday I worked at Green's Goods. No interesting characters unfortunately, though we had a slight mishap involving two young boys, a skateboard and a display of potatoes.

Saturday was a miserable, wet day that I spent at Jasper's place. Georgia taught me how to cheat at poker and I minded Roxy for an hour while she went to the dentist. Jasper and I went out to the Triumph Saturday night before I headed home and crashed. Since Jasper had been absent for the majority of the day, I assumed that my phone now sported a fashionable new bug.

Georgia appeared on my doorstep early Sunday morning, announcing that I was coming with her and Roxy to a little fair out of the city. Thankfully the weather was fine and I had a rather enjoyable day. Apart from the psychic.

I was shoved rather unceremoniously into a small, sparkly purple tent that positively reeked of incense and cheap perfume. Georgia had her fortune read first and then insisted that it was my turn.

'Ah... No, it's alright,' I said hurriedly.

Georgia smiled and pressed a handful of cons into the psychic's palm. 'Nonsense, Annie. Go on. It's just a bit of fun.'

Confession: I'm a bit of a sceptic. But even factoring that in, I really didn't have a problem with having the psychic "read me". As long as Georgia wasn't around.

Just as the psychic took hold of my hands and shut her eyes, Roxy started wailing. Georgia had to take her outside and calm her down, so thankfully that kept her out of the way.

The psychic's forehead was crinkled with concentration. I pretended not to feel her long nails digging into the backs of my hands.

'I see conflict in your life: now and in the future; emotional and physical. Change is coming, change you have wished for and change you dread.

I rolled my eyes. Who didn't have some sort of conflict and change in their lives?

'The departure of a friend- a good friend and a mentor- is eminent. You are living a lie and need to come clean. Things will be better if you do. Everything is going to work out.'

Right. If I tell Jasper I'm an undercover MI5 officer everything will be just fine and dandy. Want to be invited to my funeral?

The psychic's eyes suddenly flew open and she looked at me, her piercing blue-black eyes seeming to stare straight into my thoughts. I admit I had a slight panic attack: she couldn't have read my mind, could she?

'You're rather difficult to read,' she murmured almost as if it didn't matter if I heard or not. 'A tight control on thoughts and emotions. Intriguing...'

Georgia's head poked into the tent and I pulled my hands out of the psychic's grasp. That seemed to break whatever freaky trance she had going there because she blinked once, shook her head slightly and smiled.

'Thank you. May the future be bright.'

I mumbled my thanks and staggered out of the tent, feeling a bit dizzy for the remainder of the day. I made a promise to myself to never see a psychic again.

The next five days zipped by. I was beginning to doubt whether Jasper was actually going to let me help out and I was trying to decide how I was going to break the news to Harry. There was the short, direct approach- Harry, the mission's carked it- but there was also the hypothetical, more roundabout way- Just wondering what you'd say if someone told you a certain task hadn't turned out the way a certain person thought it might. Both ways had their flaws and I was hoping to avoid using either.

Luckily Jasper turned up that cloudy Saturday morning.

'Busy?' Jasper leaned against the kitchen bench and looked at me.

I paused, halfway through buttering my piece of raisin toast. 'No. Why?'

'Just thought you might like to earn a bit of cash, meet some friends of mine... Nothing glamorous- you'll be hacking up bits of dead animal.'

I made a face and swallowed. 'Thanks for that. Next time, not while I'm eating.'

'So... Do you want to come along? Or would you rather stay in and watch repeats of the Antiques Roadshow?'

Grabbing the remaining half slice of my toast, I dumped my plate and knife in the sink and said, 'Let's go.'

When we pulled up in the back parking lot for Choice Meats a short woman with red hair peered out the back door.

'It's alright,' Jasper called as we got out of the car. 'Only me.'

The woman visibly relaxed and smiled back. 'Jasper! Wondering when you'd pop back in again.' She squinted in my direction and added, 'Who's this?'

'Donna, this is Annie. Annie, Donna.'

'Pleased to meet you,' I said as we reached Donna. She threw her arms around me and crushed me in a hug.

'Lovely to meet you too. I suppose you're the extra help Jasper mentioned.' Donna released me and we followed her down the corridor into a back room where two men and another woman who looked a few years younger than me were sitting at benches, "hacking up dead bits of dead animal".

'Look who finally came by,' Donna announced to the room's occupants. There was a chorus of Hey, Jasper's and then every eye turned my way.

'Oh,' Donna said, grasping a large meat cleaver. 'And this is Annie. Annie, that lovely young lady there is my niece Amelia. That boofhead over there with the knife is my fiancé Dale and Brendan is Amelia's boyfriend.' Wielding the cleaver, Donna slid a lump of meat towards her. 'Right. Introductions over, let's get to work. Jasper, you can give Brendan a hand sorting stuff out in the back; we got a delivery just before and there's boxes and boxes of stuff to go in the cold room. Dale' –she looked up- 'keep doing what you're doing. Amelia, show Annie the ropes.' With that, Donna starting cutting the meat up into chunks.

I sat on the stool next to Amelia who smiled and spun a piece of meat around on the board in front of her. Picking up a knife, she said, 'We're just cutting these' –she pointed the knife at a pile of meat in front of her- 'into steaks about, say, one centimetre thick.' The blade of the knife was pressed to the meat. 'Simply apply a steady amount of downward pressure and cut.'

I watched Amelia for a few minutes until I was completely sure I wasn't going to mess up. A knife, cutting board and piece of meat was placed in front of me and I started my morning's work. Amelia was just like her aunt: bubbly, chatty and very friendly. We passed the time by talking about whatever popped into our heads and it was so hard to remember I was actually on a mission, trying to get information about Jasper's group. Donna, Amelia, Dale and Brendan were no doubt aware of, if not involved with, Jasper's business, but I wasn't going to bring it up. Despite the fact that I was cutting a piece of cow into slices, I found myself relaxing and really enjoying myself. Dale put some old rock music on and sung along tunelessly to every single song. Jasper and Brendan finished in the cold room and joined the four of us around the table.

By the time ten o'clock came around, I had a mountain of steaks beside me. Donna clapped her hands and issued the new set of instructions.

'Dale and Jasper, I need you both to start packing the steaks the girls cut. Brendan, keep cutting that Wagyu lot up. Girls' –she turned to me and Amelia- 'you can come and give me a hand at the counter.'

We made our way out of the back room, through a swing door and into the front of the shop. A glass display counter separated us from the customers that were already waiting behind the closed door. Amelia unlocked the door and skipped back around the counter. We had an almost steady stream until about eleven thirty. Donna disappeared behind the swing door and came back with three cups of tea. While we sipped, Donna asked me how I was enjoying my day so far.

'I've had fun,' I answered truthfully.

'Despite the fact you've been cutting up meat for two hours and then dealing with fussy customers for an hour and a half?' Amelia grinned.

I didn't get to answer because a large lady wearing a horrible floral print cardigan bustled in through the door and spent twenty minutes deciding what she should buy. I felt my patience wearing thin so I excused myself and went into the back room. Jasper looked up and smiled when he saw me.

'Hi,' he said. 'Having a good time?'

'Yeah. Well, I was until a lady with bad fashion sense and a really loud voice came in.'

'So is that why you came back here?' Jasper moved a bag of meat off the chair next to him and patted the seat.

I sat down with a sigh. 'Yeah. I haven't really got a lot of patience and she's been out there for twenty minutes. We've heard her whole life story: she's originally from Sweden but she's lived in Italy, France, Turkey and now she's here, in London, gracing us with her presence. She's having a dinner party tonight for her family- mom, dad, her two younger sisters and older brother, aunt Maureen who's a whiz at making lemon meringue, uncle Bert who's going through a messy divorce- and a few friends- Wanda and Max, Julia and Pete, Leanne, Mickey and Hannah.'

'Ah. I see why you left.' Jasper put his knife down and made a neat pile of meat scraps which he then pushed into a plastic bag. 'Sorry we haven't been able to go out and do anything this past week. Things are a bit stressed unfortunately.'

I shrugged. 'Doesn't matter. I've been working earlier and later anyway; Oliver's got a really bad flu and he's been off since Tuesday.' That was true enough, but Daniel hadn't exactly forced me into doing overtime. I had just got so sick of mincing around my flat that I begged him to increase my hours. A little white lie never hurt anyone.

'So you want to go have something to eat Monday night. Or will Daniel still need you at work?'

Finally. A break from the monotony. 'That'd be great,' I said. 'Oliver should be back in tomorrow so it should be ok. I'll check with Daniel Monday morning and give you a ring.'

Donna's voice from behind the swing door interrupted the conversation.

'Annie. She's gone, but about half of London has replaced her. Can you come give us a hand?'

I groaned and grabbed a new set of disposable gloves from the box, retying my apron as I walked towards the doors. Pushing through the swing doors I realised that Donna was barely exaggerating. The entire shop was almost filled with people and Amelia and Donna were going flat out. I went up to the counter and called, 'Next!' Immediately five people surged forward, all clamouring and waving their little bits of numbered paper. A young lady with a beret was standing quietly to one side and I decided to serve her first.

'What can I get you?' I asked in a loud voice. A man with a handlebar moustache and a Stetson pushed in front of the young lady.

'A pound of-'

'Not you,' I snapped. 'Why don't you back off and wait quietly?'

The man was shocked. 'Well, I have never-'

'Can it, alright.' I glared at him from behind the counter and he took a step forward, moustache quivering.

Donna stepped up beside me and hissed, 'Do your ears need unblocking? Does your hearing aid need a new battery? You were asked to step aside and I suggest you do so.'

The man chomped on air for a second, his face beetroot red, before stalking out the door. I looked sideways at Donna and she shook her head.

'He's an absolute arsehole. Whenever he comes in here the meat is too cheap, the meat is too expensive, it's the wrong type, it's not the right temperature, the line is too long...' She shook her head again. 'Arsehole,' she repeated.

The lady with the beret had made her way up to the counter and I served her, smiling cheerfully and chatting while I waited for Brendan to bring out her order. She left with a package of meat under her arm and a smile on her face. The backlog of customers eventually petered out and the quite atmosphere returned. Donna and Dale swapped places and Amelia and I were regaled with stories from the butcher's mouth.

The day was drawing to a close and the light drizzle had increased to a downpour. Choice Meats was in one of the more dumpy areas of town and there was almost no one walking around outside. Dale was lounging against the counter, his eyes half closed, and Amelia was actually sitting on the ground, legs crossed and head dropping forward onto her chest.

A stocky, medium height person in a black hoodie and sweatpants was wandering up and down outside the shopfront. I frowned. Something about the way they were walking, the way they had one of their hands up under their jumper, that made alarm bells ring. Without taking my eyes of the suspicious person I nudged Amelia with my foot.

'Don't get freaked out, but there's someone a bit weird outside.'

Amelia mumbled, 'Huh?' and went to pull herself up using the counter. Her flailing hand caught the edge of a box balanced precariously on the counter's edge and the whole lot went tumbling down. Amelia ended up back on the floor, Dale dropped to his knees to help her and I looked down at the mess. That was when the hoodie person burst into the shop.

Jasper was coming out of the back room. The tune he was whistling died on his lips as he saw the person now standing in the middle of the shop. Almost in slow motion, I looked from his face to the person- it was still impossible to tell if they were male or female- and then I saw it. Why the person had been holding their hand inside their jumper suddenly became clear. You couldn't just walk about with a gun swinging from your hand, could you?

'Get down,' Jasper yelled. He leapt towards me, grabbed my shoulders and shoved me to the ground just as Hoodie fired their gun. The bullet shot over the counter, missed Jasper's head by centimetres and thumped into the back wall. Getting down had saved our lives but it might have been the end of us; all Hoodie had to do was lean over the counter, fire and we would have been as dead as the shop goods. But Brendan came running through the swing doors.

Hoodie stopped mid-stride, looked at Brendan, lifted the gun and fired. Amelia had seen Brendan step in from the back room and, although she couldn't see Hoodie, she must have realised what was going to happen.

'No!' she screamed. It was too late and even if she had of shouted that two seconds before, I doubted whether Hoodie would have dropped the gun and backed out murmuring apologies.

Brendan was hit in the chest. He gave a whimper and collapsed, his blood spilling out all over the shop floor. Amelia was sobbing as she pressed her hands against Brendan's chest, desperately trying though not making any difference to stem the blood pulsing out. Dale dropped down next to her and put his hands over hers, applying even more pressure. Then it happened again. The dreaded flashback. I was suddenly back in Australia, in the corridor near the security guards' offices, running towards Keisha, lying so similar to the way Brendan lay now on the floor of the butcher's. I was falling to my knees next to her tiny body, turning her over and seeing the stab wounds on her chest and stomach. Tears were flowing down my face and Keisha's blood was soaking into my jeans, but I barely noticed.

Jasper's arms around me dragged me back to the present. I was sobbing without realising and shaking uncontrollably.

'Shhhhh. Shhhhh,' Jasper whispered into my hair. 'It's ok.'

Donna had come through from the back room at some point and she was standing just inside the swing doors, white as snow with her hands pressed to her mouth.

'Don't just stand there,' Amelia snapped. 'Call an ambulance.'

Dale dropped Brendan's wrist and put his arm around Amelia's shoulders. 'I think it might be too late for an ambulance, Amelia.'

Shrugging Dale's arm off angrily, Amelia sniffed and pressed her hands down harder. 'No. No. It's not too late. He'll be fine.' Her voice wobbled. 'He has to be.'

Dale tried to pull Amelia away from Brendan but she swore at him and pushed him away.

'Amelia,' Jasper said softly. She looked at him with huge, red rimmed eyes.

'No,' she whispered. 'Please, no.'

'I'm so sorry.' Jasper bit his lip.

This time when Dale tried to pull her away, Amelia let him. Turning into Dale's chest, Amelia shook as grief overcame her.

'...so it has to be them, I mean who else- No, no, thanks for all your help, Alan. We really appreciate it. Take care.' Donna hung up and gazed sadly at her niece. 'Oh, Mia, love.'

Sitting in Jasper's living room, warm, clean and with a mug of hot chocolate in my hands, it was hard to not pass off the afternoon as some horrible nightmare or a spin-off on one of my flashbacks, but Jasper's face was enough to assure me that it wasn't.

Up until now, I'd been having a real cruisey time and it had been so easy to just dismiss Jasper's apparently irrational concerns. Now I'd been slapped in the face and reminded of the dangers. It was a horrible way to suddenly wake up, like I'd had a huge bucket of iced water chucked over me. I shivered and wrapped my fingers more firmly around the mug. Jasper came back into the lounge room, threw the cordless phone onto the armchair next to the sofa I was sitting on and then sat down next to me.

'See?' he said softly. 'You still think my worries are unjustified?'

I leant against him and didn't answer. Jasper turned the TV on; some really corny afternoon sitcom was playing. Letting the words wash over me, I closed my eyes.

Harry's fingers flew across the keyboard. Muttering under his breath, he hit a few keys and then sat back and rubbed his forehead. Just when things were going so well...

The past hour had been a nightmare. It had started when Luke had phoned in and told Harry about the shooting at the butchers and things had just continued downhill from there. Amber was fine- that was a relief- but someone had been killed. With all the tension between the two rival groups that Amber had described, it probably hadn't been such a wise move putting an officer in the middle of it all.

That was what the two senior operatives wanted to talk about. Harry started typing again with the remnants of that conversation floating through his mind. It had taken half an hour and a lot of persuading but they'd agreed to leave Amber for the moment. Harry wasn't that happy with that, but what could he do? He had no doubts that Amber was able to handle anything thrown at her; she had a good head on her shoulders and wasn't one to back down and hide in a corner when the going got tough. She would never have forgiven Harry if he hadn't defended her mission. But how was he meant to forgive himself if she was killed or even just injured? Not only would he feel terrible, but Hex, Li, Alex and Paulo would never forgive him either.

'This bites,' Harry spat, shoving himself away from the desk. 'Why can't things just be bloody simple for once?'