As the seated figures began to argue back, a battered old antique traveller appeared and began to manoeuvre alongside the van, clearly intending to block the gap between it and the high hedge to the right. Before he could intervene, Ben saw Jock approach the car and lean into the driver’s window. He appeared to be trying to take the keys from the woman who was driving. From the backseat, an aged springer spaniel raised itself from a tartan blanket and began to bark in a distressed and rheumy voice. Its elderly owner was clearly becoming equally distressed. Ben suddenly saw his opportunity. He stepped over Julie and went up to Jock, taking his arm. He leant down and spoke gently to the woman. “Best you get home today, ma’am.”
“I most certainly will not go home! I’m here to stop you thugs murdering our badgers!”
“It’s just a look around today, ma’am. Save your energy for when it starts.”
She mumbled something under her breath, but on taking a look once more at her dog, she began to back up the lane and away from the protest.
Ben steered Jock over to the side of the road out of anyone’s hearing and whispered something in his ear that told the man exactly what Ben would do to him if he saw him treating old ladies like that again. Then with a disarming smile, he returned to the picket line and gave Julie a wink as he stepped over her once more. She had watched the tiny incident with interest, and he knew she would recognise him another time.
Ben spent the rest of the day doing something he supposed he ought to enjoy, tramping around wet, muddy fields carrying a gun. He’d spent a large portion of his working life doing just that, after all. But the cold and the boredom of the whole thing got to him after a while. He found his thoughts drifting back to the very pleasant weekend he’d just spent enjoying a beautiful house and, yes, if vicious killer badgers dragged the admission from him, the beautiful man he’d been enjoying, too. Sir Nikolas Mikkelsen hadn’t managed to marry into the British Royal Family through unfettered ambition alone. He had a mesmeric northern beauty, his face chiselled from the harsh winds of his native land. More than once, Ben found himself picturing that face instead of concentrating on his lessons. It was just as well he could pass the course as easily as drink a glass of Nikolas’s whisky.
For many reasons, therefore, Ben was delighted later that night when he returned to his hotel to find the subject of his preoccupation sitting on the end of his bed, watching the local news on the television. “Hello, Benjamin.”
Ben grinned privately. He always loved the way Nikolas greeted him. It seemed to say more than it actually did. But then he had a tendency to always try and see more in Nikolas’s words and looks than, possibly, were actually there. Consequently, mindful of not appearing too keen, he replied noncommittally, “Sir.”
“How is it going?”
“It’s going to the pub in about ten minutes, so you’re out of luck.”
“Do not make assumptions, and do not be…” Suddenly Ben straddled Nikolas, then Nik could hardly deny what he’d been anticipating would happen between them. It was pretty evident in the fierce erection that Ben now sat on.
“Shouldn’t I be giving you a homily about mixing business with pleasure, sir? You’re corrupting one of your agents. You do know that.”
“Benjamin, your sexual flexibility is one of your chief assets. I am merely developing my subordinates.”
“Do you visit all your operatives in the field and fuck them?”
Nikolas almost looked serious. “No, and that is something I have been meaning to remedy.”
Ben gave a disbelieving laugh. “Over my dead body. You’re all mine.”
“Do not say that.” Nikolas pushed Ben off and stood up, pulling down his waistcoat and smoothing his hair. “Actually, I have to go. I am meeting the minister and the PM for a briefing.”
“What’s wrong? What did I say?”
“Nothing. I…” Nikolas went to the window, his back to Ben. For the first time, Ben heard him swear quietly to himself in English. It was odd and unsettling. “This has got out of hand. I do not
want
to think about you like this all the time. You are nothing to me, and I am nothing to you. That is how it has always been between us and how it must continue to be. If you have thought it could be more, then I am sorry.”
“You’re the one here tonight!”
After a long pause, Nikolas gave the tiniest of nods in acceptance of this truth. “Yes. Out of control, and that is intolerable.”
Ben came closer. “All right, whatever you say, boss. But now you
are
here…”
Nikolas smiled. Ben could see it in the reflection in the window. “You argue like the very devil himself.”
Ben slid his arms around Nikolas’s waist and propped his chin on the other man’s shoulder. “If I’m the devil, do you see yourself as Jesus tempted in the wilderness?”
“I believe he was offered power, not sex.”
“Who said anything about sex? I reckon Jesus would have capitulated for love.”
Nikolas tipped his head back, allowing Ben’s face to come alongside his and for Ben to plant a kiss on his smooth cheek. “You have the wrong person, Benjamin, if you are looking for love. I learnt my English the hard way, and I did not learn that word in any context you would want. I am sorry.”
“I’ve never needed words, you know that. I don’t remember you saying two words to me that first weekend, and before I knew it, I was being fucked on green baize.”
“That was not love.”
“I know that. But this could be.” He turned Nikolas in his arms and kissed him deeply, keeping eye contact. The other man’s lips were cold and unresponsive. Ben bit lightly on the bottom one, easing his tongue against Nikolas’s lower teeth. He swore into the pleasure of the warmth of Nikolas’s mouth. He slid his hands into the short hair at the back of Nikolas’s neck, hitching him closer, but Nikolas pulled away and held him off with one hand, the other brushing over his own lips as if astonished at the intensity of Ben’s kiss.
“If this is love for you, then you are in love with a ghost, with the illusion of a man. Is that enough for you?”
“Would you let me have that? If you do, then I will find the man. I’ll breathe life back into the ghost.” Ben heard a soft expletive in Nikolas’s native language, and then he was being kissed back hungrily. Nikolas proved he could kiss just as well as Ben, his tongue finding welcome in Ben’s mouth. He spoke against Ben’s lips, something sensual sounding that Ben didn’t need translated. But then a small bleep sounded from Nikolas’s tailored suit pocket.
Nikolas swore once more in English, and very effectively. “I have to go. I cannot be late for the PM.”
“Yeah.” Ben allowed Nikolas to pull away slightly. “And I’ve got a date with two lesbians.”
As he moved towards the door, Nikolas hesitated, his back to Ben. “Be careful, Benjamin. I would hate to have to work on a eulogy to read at your funeral.”
“Shit, just say I was a dumb bastard with weird taste in men and leave it at that.”
Nik nodded seriously. “That would work.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
When Ben arrived at the pub, he was fired up and in just the right mood to make friends, influence people, and then…betray them. He spotted the little group of protesters easily enough because they were grouped around some tables they’d pushed together and were painting “Save The Badger” signs and “Vaccination Not Vivisection” posters. Ben went to the bar and spoke quietly to the landlord. “I’m down with the DEFRA guys for the badgers. There gonna be a problem with me drinking here? I don’t want to cause a fight, I just want a pint.”
“No problem with me, mate. Most of my customers are farmers. Those idiots over there buy half a lager and make it last all night. Far as I’m concerned, you can shoot all the damn badgers you want.”
“Pour a round of beers and send it over to them, will you?”
The man raised his brows but did as he was asked. At the last minute, Ben chucked on half a dozen packets of cheese and onion crisps as the tray went past him. He waited until the pleased surprise turned to disgust when the provenance of the round was discovered, and then went closer. “Peace offering. I’ve got no beef with these animals myself, I just really need this job, okay?”
“You’re nothing more than a bloody murderer.” That was from an older man busy painting one of the signs.
Julie Arthur lifted her face from a poster she was decorating with sketches of cute badger faces. She looked him over from head to toe, and Ben knew for certain she wasn’t as committed to the lesbian ideal as her bio had claimed. She winked at him then said to the old man, “Leave him be, Fred, he’s okay this one. Saved your missus today, he did.” Her pseudo-working-class accent was atrocious, but Ben forgave her. He’d enjoyed the wink.
The old man grunted, mumbling his annoyance that this young man was the one he’d had his ear bent about for some time at home. Ben pretended to look at the posters with interest. “Don’t badgers spread some disease or something? That’s what we’ve been told. All the cows are gonna die?” He pulled out his notebook and flourished his scribbles. “See? My notes from today.” He found the part he wanted. “‘
The scientific evidence shows conclusively that badgers contribute significantly to bovine TB in cattle.’ I wrote that down—word for word. Can’t argue with that, can you?”
That was all it took. Within five minutes, he was sitting between Julie and Peace, being educated on the myths and lies surrounding badgers and bovine TB and plied with science, pseudo-science, and beer. Ben wasn’t making it
too
easy; he had an agenda, after all. He moved it forward by suddenly appearing doubtful. “Jesus, this is above my pay grade. I can’t believe we’re being told complete lies like this. I’d really like to hear a proper scientist on all this. Don’t they all support DEFRA and the cull? Culling’s been a hundred percent successful in Ireland, hasn’t it?”
They all began to shout at him at once. “No! Jesus! It’s not at all! Someone ring Sean, get him over here. Sean will tell you all about Ireland.”
Ben was pretty sure he would and wondered for a moment if he and the Maffertys had met in a previous life—over a bomb or rifle barrel, perhaps. “Sean a scientist, is he?”
“Nah, hey, give Tim a bell, too, see if he’s free tonight. Tim’s our spokesman on the telly. He knows all this stuff. He’ll set you right.”
Bingo. Ben had another beer then said he had to go. The trick was letting them think they had to work to reel him in, while the truth was he was working to reel them in. Now they were desperate for him to stay. He made his sincerest apologies, said he couldn’t afford to be late for his second day on the course, bought them all another round, and left. He’d ridden his Ducati to the pub and pulled it over in a copse of trees to check it for a tracker before returning to his hotel. He was insanely disappointed not to find Nikolas waiting for him again.
He wondered, not for the first time, what Nikolas was doing. Was he in bed with his wife? Did they actually have a sexual relationship? Ben was fairly sure they didn’t and never had. Perhaps he was being pathetically hopeful. Damn, but he wished he had a way to contact Nikolas outside his official department numbers. His phone buzzed. It was one a.m. He heaved it out of his pocket and saw a text had been received from an unrecognised number.
Anyone can pretend 2 love someone, the real trick is 2 pretend not 2 love when u do.
Nikolas’s texting was as weird and unreliable as his spoken English, but Ben didn’t care. He went to bed, grinning, with warmth in his groin that he didn’t attempt to alleviate, and for the first time in weeks he didn’t fall asleep to dark thoughts of fire and death.
§§§
The second day of the course saw them learning how to use the various pieces of equipment they would need: rifles, shotguns, cages, bait, and night-vision goggles. Some badgers were to be shot directly and some caged then shot in the cages. Ben was almost enjoying his day in the countryside until they were told they had visitors, and four Range Rovers pulled up to the small copse of trees they were working in. Two men, unmistakable as Met protection, scrambled out of the front of the first, and one of them opened the back door, allowing a portly, red-faced man to get out. A young woman slid out after him, talking on a phone and making notes in a folder. Sir Monty Bancott and his PA came over to the training group, but no one was giving them much attention as another four protection officers emerged from the other vehicles, and then a figure unmistakable as the prime minister came over to join Sir Monty.