CHAPTER 19 – DETECTIVE
They managed to keep their problems out of the room for over 24 hours; it lasted until they had to stop – and once they had stopped, thoughts of her father and mother and everything that was going wrong flooded Kate's mind. She kept her face strong, trying not to let Rick know the bubble had burst, but he noticed anyway.
"The walls are up again," he said to her. "Does that mean you want to go?"
"Go where?"
"To New York. To see your Dad."
"They'll be watching him. It'd just put him in danger. And I... I'm not a detective. Even if I found her stuff, her diary, her date book, some notes, whatever... it wouldn't necessarily help. I don't think she knew whoever killed her. It would be putting people at risk for nothing."
"Plus, if we don't go, you don't have to see your father."
Kate looked at him. "Don't judge me for this."
Rick felt bad. "I didn't mean... I guess I understand. But I think he'd want to see you, to know you're alive."
"His daughter isn't alive. He... In my family, our morals were black and white. Killing is wrong; to him, it makes you evil and a murderer, no matter why you did it. And my job is killing. In a way it's better he thinks I'm dead – I'd rather he thought that than he saw what I've become."
"You're not a bad person, you're not evil. The lives you take save hundreds more."
"So? I should find a way to save the lives without taking any. If I kill, I'm as bad as them."
"Do you think that too?"
Kate kept her voice calm and controlled, not showing a trace of the emotion inside her. "Sometimes. It didn't ever matter before – I did my job, I didn't think... I had no desire to be morally correct or a good person; I almost took pleasure in the fact that I wasn't. It's different now. I care about someone else. I'm with someone and I want to be good enough for him." Even though I know it's never going to last, her brain added for her.
"You are more than good enough," Rick said, going over to kiss her.
"I have to come up with a plan, something that I can do."
"Do you have an idea?"
"Yes."
"What?"
Kate shuddered inside. This would be the hard part. "I'm not going to tell you."
"What? Why?" he said, unsure if this was some kind of joke.
"Because you're going to stay here. I'm not putting you in harm's way again."
"So there'll be harm? You're going to fight them aren't you? You're going to let them know where you are and shoot them all, or all but one so you have one to get information out of..."
Kate maintained her poker face, but he had guessed absolutely right. She was sick of waiting and hiding and running – she wanted a show down and she would have one. She had no idea how many people would come or if she would even be able to fight them all off, but she was good; there was a good chance she would succeed.
"I could help you fight them. You know I'm a good shot."
Kate shook her head. She wasn't moving on this one. He would stay safe.
"You're staying here," she said, pulling on some clothes and strapping on her guns. "I'll be back by tomorrow morning."
It was just after 3pm. Rick watched Kate get ready, trying desperately to think of something to say that would keep her with him, or something that would persuade her not to leave him here doing nothing. He saw all the horrible possibilities. He knew this might be the last time he saw her, he knew this might be the end. And he realised she was showing him that not only was she determined to protect him, she was willing to die to keep him safe.
"This is suicide," he said to her.
"No it isn't," she said firmly. "I'll be fine. If there's one thing I'm good at, it's fighting. You just stay put. And, here." She handed him a gun. "Just in case."
"We should stick together."
"No we shouldn't. My job is to protect you."
"But not to die for me."
"I'm not going to die."
"How do you know?"
She was lying to him. But she would have to keep it up. "Because I know I have to come back for you."
Rick smiled weakly. "I'm glad you know."
Kate took a deep breath. "And if I don't come back-"
"You're going to. You just told me you were."
"Right. But if I'm... held up in traffic or something, and I'm not here by 6pm tomorrow, I want you to call the police."
"The cops?"
"I trust them more than the people I work for."
"And what do I tell them?"
"Everything, apart from who I am. You can tell them about Sierra. It won't take long for MI6 to intervene, but they'll look after you."
"What about the mole?"
"If there is one, you'll just have to hope we're right and they're after me, not you. Hold on to the gun, I guess."
"But you'll be back, so it doesn't matter."
"Right. I'll be back."
Kate left the room, taking the keys to the sleek but inconspicuous black car Rick's hotel friend had given them. She drove away from the hotel, heading vaguely in the direction of New York, then pulled up at a small gas station. There was no one there; she went inside to see the cashier. She smiled as he took in the sight of her; she had weapons strapped all over her body.
"How about you go on home now?" she suggested. He didn't need to be told twice, and disappeared from the shop, glancing back at her just once before jumping on his vesper and driving away. She went behind the counter to use the phone, calling the familiar number. She got through to yet another agent she didn't recognise, and told them who she was. They still didn't know anything about her backup or the investigation which was supposed to be happening in New York. They told her again to return to the safe house, and that she was already under investigation by internal affairs. Her job was on the line. She laughed at the worry that washed through her – here she was, her life on the line, and she was afraid of getting fired.
If she did lose her job, could she be with Rick? The thought was fleeting, she didn't even properly imagine what would happen before she rejected the idea. It wouldn't work. And she'd keep her job, anyway.
She sat up on the counter, waiting. She had checked and there was only one door – it was more of a shed than a building, but it was made of bricks and she had an easy view of the road, so she would know if anyone was coming. It was only a matter of time.
One Hour Later
They hadn't come yet. Maybe they were worse at following than she thought; she'd expected them not to be far behind her and Rick. She wondered how Rick was holding up. She hoped he'd be okay. They would get through this. He would get through this, she would make sure of it.
…
Rick lay down on the bed, wishing he could have found a way to go with her. The look in her eyes, so calm and ready... She wasn't giving away a thing and he hated it, he hated that she was hiding herself from him. He really thought they had a chance. They were good together, they could be together when this was over. He had been disappointed when she changed her mind about seeing her father, but he understood. She was used to fighting; fighting was what she knew. She would find out things that way. It would still be alright.
Except the look she had given him as she closed the door... For a moment, her eyes had betrayed her and then she had snapped it shut and he could have imagined it but... The thoughts whirled around in his head. That look... it was the look of someone who wasn't coming back.
Another Hour Later
Kate swigged from the water bottle she had taken from the fridge. It was beginning to get dark. She wished they would hurry up and get there; her adrenaline was wearing off and she was starting to feel lonely and tired. She wanted Rick. She didn't want to be alone. She didn't want to die alone.
Everybody dies alone, the little voice in her head reminded her. She sighed. She had known since she got on that plane when she was nineteen that she would die doing this job. She had revelled in it – she would die protecting people, she would die doing good. Like her mother, a little. And at least her life would mean something. That had been important.
Now, here she was, with a life that did finally mean something but it was nothing to do with saving the world. Her life meant something because of Rick. Because he cared about her, and she actually cared about him. She loved him. It didn't matter if she admitted it now. She was probably going to die, and she wanted to die thinking about him. She wanted her last thought to be that she loved him. She wanted her last wish to be that he was safe, that he would have a good life.
Nineteen Minutes Later
She heard the roar of a car engine and knew it was time. She hopped off the counter and crouched behind it, taking out her weapon as five figures moved through the semi darkness. She waited as they approached, knowing every second, and every bullet, counted. She would make them count. She felt her heart rate slow and her body felt stronger, more alive. She was a hunter, an animal, preparing to take down her prey.
She enjoyed this. She enjoyed it. She hated herself.
The first one fell immediately – he hadn't even been looking. The others were better, spreading out through the shop. Four of them. She moved around and fired, able to see them in the mirror positioned so the cashier could catch potential shoplifters. Another two shots and the second fell; after six shots only two remained. She dodged a volley of fire that thundered in her direction, then shot back at it, focusing on hitting that attacker.
Focusing too much. He fell and she whirled to take out her last target-
The bullet sank into her as though she was butter. The pain was like nothing she could describe – but she knew it well. She managed to fire three rounds into the shooter before she hit the floor and faded out of consciousness.
…
Rick drove along the road in the mini-cooper, wondering where she would have gone. She wouldn't have gone too far, she would have headed towards New York, she would have gone somewhere isolated and easy to defend.
He saw the little gas station and identified it as a likely spot before he even saw the cars outside and the body in the doorway. He pulled over, the panic flooding his body. Where was she? It was too quiet, they were all... The floor was covered in blood, the little shop had been shot to pieces. Rick checked each body. None of them were her. One of them was still breathing, but barely. And then he went behind the counter, and saw her on the floor, the red-soaked floor...
He knelt down beside her making a sound of pure agony. He grabbed her wrist, pressing in hard- she had a pulse! Suddenly he was all about urgency. She was barely breathing; he breathed into her mouth while he unstrapped all her guns. Then he dialled 911.
He told the first lie he could think of, saying some crazy masked man had come into the store while they were getting gas and shot everyone, but he had managed to hide and his girlfriend was still alive. They told him the ambulance was on its way; he hung up and wiped everything he could think of so their prints weren't on it. He hadn't shaved, he shoved on some glasses he found behind the counter and hoped people would be too preoccupied to recognise him. Sally. He would say her name was Sally. Sally... King. And he would be Ryan. Right. Ryan... Smith? It would have to do. He kept pressure on the wound, it was in her stomach. She wasn't conscious, but he talked to her, saying whatever he could think of.
And then he thought of something. He left her and picked up a gun, then went to the man who was alive. The guy wasn't conscious; he didn't have a choice. He had to save Kate. He closed his eyes and pulled the trigger – when he opened them the man had a little round hole in his head, and the raspy breathing had stopped. He wiped the gun and threw it down, then ran back to Kate. She was still alive.
He saw the flashing lights and got ready to lie. The medics hurried in and he shouted them over. They shuddered at the scene but were soon focused on saving Kate. Sally. Sally.
He rode in the ambulance with her. They told him she would go straight into surgery, that her chances were not great, but not hopeless either. He held her hand; it was cold. They told him that was normal. They asked for her blood type but he didn't know; they said that was fine, they could do a test. They told him the cops would need to talk to him, and when they reached the hospital, they told him where to wait. He watched them wheel her away with tears in his eyes, then ran after her, catching up the medics. They shooed him but he ran beside her and faced her.
"I love you," he said. "I know you can't hear me but I love you, so you fight, okay?"
He had to let them take her, then. But at least he had said it. At least he had told her while her heart was still beating.
