It had been going too well that Beth cursed herself for not realising sooner that her life at Section D wouldn't last. However, she cursed that bossy bitch Erin Watts far more.
True, she was on her third or fourth glass of sangria but she could drink a whole bloody swimming pool of the stuff and still feel the same way towards that woman. The woman who came to work looking more appropriately dressed for a model shoot with her long locks and lippy, flouncing around with jeans and little jumpers and high heeled boots like she was born for this but Beth bet she'd never even killed someone, never done any real spying at all, and just fancied herself as James Bond's female rival.
When she'd got the sack Beth had scarpered to Barcelona to take up a long-standing deal with a friend. It hadn't been her ideal option but she was suddenly sick of the sight of London with all its promise glittering on the Thames and her naivety in thinking that she could escape from her past life and hide amongst all the sleek buildings and propriety. She was a mercenary through and through and had just spent the last year kidding herself.
Weird though, that a couple of people had made her feel differently. Firstly, there was Lucas (an example of a proper section chief). He didn't stand for any shit and told her what he thought – she was a profiteer who exploited death, violence and misery for money. Obviously she knew that, but no-one had put it that simply before. It also seemed, for the first time, that Beth actually had the option to switch to something else, be a do-gooder for a change and get clean.
Secondly there was Harry. He had encouraged her re-application and after she had saved his life on the Westhouse operation she knew that he was just about beginning to trust her. It was tenuous, yes, but the trust was there, as was the expectation of her. Beth felt like she was capable of being pushed and would flourish when given the chance to really prove herself and develop her talents.
Thirdly, Dimitri. They were both the new kids on the Grid so obviously there was a connection there and she liked how he didn't spout bullshit about patriotic duty and protecting his beloved country but just genuinely loved his job. Also, he was one of those rare men with a combination of good looks and a good personality.
She'd miss him most of all.
But now, it was 8pm on a hot Spanish evening and she was about to earn herself thirty thousand euros. It was only a little assassination – she'd be back at the bar within the hour.
It wasn't as easy this time though. For a split second of insanity she imagined one of the team on the receiving end of the bullet that she had fired and she could taste betrayal no matter how many drinks she poured down her throat afterwards.
Beth could have been better than this.
Instead, she was almost passed out at a bar in the dark, alone, with a heavy wallet but a heavier heart at what she'd had to leave behind.