Authors: Rob Sinclair
I didn’t look behind me as I marched off through the train. I knew that Mary would follow me out of the cabin. If nothing else, I knew she wouldn’t want to be stuck in that space with two dead bodies.
Chris hadn’t given much away but I could only presume more agents from the CIA were on the train; for starters, the other man Chris had been with on the platform. I had no way of knowing where on the train they were, or exactly how many more of them there were, but I had to find them. Chris had come to confront us. To kill us. His unseen friend, the one Mary had spied him meeting, had taken on a more sedentary role so far. In the shadows. Away from watchful eyes. There was a reason. And I wanted to know it.
I was still a long way from understanding what was happening. But some things at least were clicking into place. Mackie had brought Chris into this mess knowing he was with the CIA. When I’d been held by the Russians, the CIA had teamed up with Mackie to come and find me. I don’t know how they’d sold it to Mackie, but it had obviously worked. Perhaps the CIA had helped muddy the waters and fuelled Mackie’s distrust for me. That might have been enough for him to have agreed to bring them into the fold.
But why would the CIA have become involved at all?
I could think of one very good reason. I’d been earmarked. They wanted me dead. I couldn’t be sure why. Though I had an inkling.
Whatever the reason, I got the sense that something bigger was at play too. It wasn’t just about me. There were too many twists and intricacies and people involved for that to be the case. Lena had told me the Russians had brokered a new deal. Whatever the deal was, it had cost Mackie his life. The cherry on top. The CIA had okayed Mackie’s death to get what they wanted. They’d intended to use me as the fall guy, or maybe I was just their means to get what they wanted and now they were out to kill me.
I needed to find out why.
Eight carriages came and went without me once breaking stride. I hadn’t known what I was looking for, but when I saw it I knew I was in the right place.
When I entered the next carriage, I spotted a man standing at the near end. He was trying hard to make himself look inconspicuous but he was way too obvious. His eyes practically lit up when he saw me coming. No doubt he knew who I was but I chose not to confront him. As I hoped, he stayed in character and didn’t try to stop me as I walked past.
Further up the carriage was another man, similarly stationed, trying to make himself fit into the unusual surroundings. It didn’t work. The problem was, I had seen him before. On the station platform, standing next to Chris. I guessed that the cabin door he was guarding was the one I was looking for.
As I approached him he did a double-take, almost identical to the look his colleague had just given me when I entered the carriage. I knew as soon as I saw his hand move towards his jacket that he wasn’t going to just let me past like his friend had. But his surprise at seeing me and the
time it took him to process the situation unfolding before him were all I needed.
He was just five yards away from me and I increased my pace, aware that any second he’d probably be pulling a weapon on me. He never got the chance. I sprinted the last two steps, ghosting across the ground. Coming in low, my knees bent, I pounced, throwing my right fist up under his chin. The connection was as good as I could have hoped for. A loud crack sounded out and his head snapped back violently. His whole body lifted off the ground and he was dumped on the floor a yard away from where he’d been standing. With the momentum of my body behind the strike, his jaw would be smashed at the very least. If he was unlucky, it may even have snapped his neck. Either way I didn’t fancy his chances of fighting back anytime soon.
As his body hit the deck, I spun around, pulling the Glock from my waistband. Crouching low, I pointed the gun out, back down to the other end of the carriage, where the first agent had been standing. I’d presumed that by now he’d be making a move on me. But what I saw wasn’t what I’d expected. Not at all.
The man was on his knees, facing me. His hands were behind his back. Mary was standing over the agent, his service revolver in her hand. She looked up at me and gave a wry smile, then swung the gun down against the back of the man’s neck. He crumpled to the ground.
‘See? There are other options,’ Mary said casually, rifling through the pockets of the grounded man.
I couldn’t help but smile at that. Somehow she’d managed to get the better of the man and disarm him, almost silently. I continued to underestimate her, it seemed.
‘Give me a hand, will you,’ she said, standing up. ‘We can’t leave these two lying here.’
‘We don’t have anywhere to put them yet,’ I said.
Though she was right. We couldn’t leave the two men out in the open. I turned around and got down onto my knees next to the man I’d just felled. I could see from glancing at him that he wasn’t going to be getting up in a hurry. I wondered whether he was even still breathing.
I found what I was looking for, stood up, and looked over at Mary. She was holding the other man underneath her armpits, dragging him over to where I was standing.
‘Hurry up, will you,’ she said.
The look I gave her made her face crease up.
‘What?’ she said angrily.
‘Nothing,’ I said. ‘Good job.’
‘You really didn’t think I had it in me, did you?’
I just smiled and shook my head. She was right. I didn’t.
‘Could you just put him down for a minute?’ I said. ‘I need you and that gun for this. We don’t know what we’re walking into here.’
She dropped the man and took out her newly acquired gun again, another Glock.
Holding the key I’d just pilfered, I turned around to face the cabin door that the agent had been covering. The door was wooden with a small window, the blind on the inside drawn so that I couldn’t see in. I could tell from the door’s shiny finish and embellished decoration that what lay beyond was not your average cabin.
I placed the key in the lock and began to turn it. My other hand gripped the gun tightly. The lock clicked open. I didn’t hesitate but flung the door open and rolled into the room.
The cabin was at least twice the size of the one Mary and I had. My eyes immediately fell to the man inside. He was sitting at a coffee table by the window, dressed smartly in light-coloured linen trousers and a collared shirt with a
V-neck pullover. He jumped up out of his seat at the unexpected entrance.
‘What the hell are you doing?’ he said in a thick American drawl.
He didn’t make any attempt to make for cover or to go for a weapon. Despite his surprise at seeing me, his voice and his face were steadfast.
‘Where’s Chris?’ he said.
‘Where do you think?’ I said.
I looked at him for a reaction to my words. He’d know exactly what I meant. But I saw no reaction. Nothing. His face was deadpan.
He looked to be about in his early fifties. He had thinning grey hair cut short but his bushy eyebrows were jet-black. His face was pockmarked and saggy, his features oversized in comparison with his head. Despite his aging face, his deep eyes were alert and full of life.
Mary came up from behind me and walked over to him. She held on to her gun with one hand while she patted him down with the other, going all the way down and into his socks and boots.
‘He’s clean,’ she said, standing up.
‘Sit down,’ I said to him.
‘What about the others?’ he said, indicating the two bodies on the other side of the open doorway. ‘You’ve not just bulldozed your way through half my team, I hope.’
‘Those two are fine,’ I said. ‘Probably.’
‘Well, don’t just leave them there!’ he snapped.
His tone was as though he were the one in charge of the situation. It riled me but I knew he was right. We couldn’t leave the two men out in the corridor. Not if we wanted to stay on the train.
‘I’ll get them,’ Mary said, and headed back to the corridor.
She dragged each of the men into the cabin. The one she’d hit moaned and groaned. Once on the inside, she gave him another crack with the gun.
I looked at her with raised eyebrows. She just shrugged and got up to close the cabin door.
My eyes had been quickly glancing around the room. Assessing the layout but also any possible threats. I could see just one static bed – much larger than we’d had – and there was a full-sized sofa plus the coffee table and chairs, where the man had been sitting.
‘You know, it’s nice to finally meet you,’ the man said, taking a seat on the sofa and sitting back with both of his arms outstretched across the sofa’s back. ‘It’s strange when you spend so much time watching and learning about someone but never actually meet them.’
‘Okay, less of the small talk,’ Mary snapped. ‘We’re not here to play games.’
‘Oh, I’m under no illusions about that. The two men lying down next to your feet are testament to that. And I’d guess Chris hasn’t been so lucky.’
‘You’d be right,’ I said.
The man shook his head. ‘Shame about that,’ he said. ‘He was a good agent. Very useful. Very resourceful. In many ways he was similar to you, Logan.’
The use of my name made me wince. This man knew so much about me, and me so little about him. But his words resonated with me. Chris had certainly been more resilient than I’d expected. A tough fighter. But that was really where the similarities between the two of us ended.
‘In the end, that was probably his downfall,’ the man continued. ‘What can you really expect from someone like that? All brawn, no brains.’
I took a seat on one of the chairs. The gun was still in
my hand but I wasn’t pointing it at the man any more. He didn’t seem to be a threat. Not yet at least. It felt as though this was all part of whatever plan had been concocted.
‘Is this him?’ I said to Mary, knowing that Mary would realise I was referring to the man she’d seen Chris meet.
‘Yeah. It is.’
‘Who are you?’ I said, turning my attention back to the man. ‘We should at least know who we’re dealing with. You seem to know so much about me.’
‘Yes, well, what harm can it do now? I’m presuming you’ve already connected the dots to who I work for.’
‘Yes.’
‘The name’s Greg Schuster. I lead the Russian office.’
‘Well, Schuster,’ I said, ‘we’ve got quite a few hours until we get to Moscow. Plenty of time. So why don’t you start at the beginning. What’s happening here? To me? To Mackie?’
‘And why should I tell you anything?’
‘It’s going to be a long time for you to hold out. You seem to think that you know me. I’m sure you can use your imagination.’
‘Your cheap threats and intimidation are lost on me, I’m afraid.’
‘And why’s that?’
‘Because I’m not going to tell you anything I don’t want to. I’ll talk to you, sure. We can talk like real human beings. Like adults. I’ll tell you what I can. But no amount of duress or torture over the next few hours is going to change what I’m willing to say.’
‘You might be right. But it’s worth a try,’ I said.
I got up off my chair and strode up to him and enjoyed seeing him cower away from me as I approached. His bravado was one thing, but clearly his words weren’t as strong as his will.
I grabbed his right arm and twisted my body around so I was almost sitting on him. I gripped his arm tightly between my left arm and torso.
‘You’ve got a choice, Schuster,’ I said. ‘You’ve got four limbs. Twenty fingers and toes. Which shall we start with?’
Schuster struggled against my grip but he wasn’t anywhere near strong enough to get me off him. My back was to him and I was using my body weight to push down on him. I thrust my left elbow into him, which seemed to calm down his protests.
‘Fingers it is,’ I said.
I grabbed the little finger on his right hand and pulled it outwards to bursting point. Schuster squirmed some more but my crushing body weight gave him little room to manoeuvre.
‘You wouldn’t!’ he shouted.
He should have kept his mouth shut. I don’t like to be tested. I yanked on his finger; it didn’t take much effort. I heard it pop as the base dislocated from the knuckle. Schuster screamed out and his body writhed and coiled. His strength all of a sudden was doubled and it took me a moment to get him back under control.
‘Nine more to go,’ I said.
‘Do what you want!’ Schuster spat, panting heavily. ‘It won’t make any difference!’
‘Well, let’s just see about that,’ I said.
I took his next finger in my grip, trying my hardest to block out the thoughts that were creeping into my head. Of my own recent experience of being on the receiving end of torture. It was an uncomfortable feeling. But I pushed it away – maintained my focus as best I could.
‘Go on then!’ Schuster shouted. ‘You think you can manipulate me like this? I’ve already decided what’s off-limits and what’s not. If you continue to torture me,
you’ll only be getting the same information out of me! That seems pretty pointless to me, unless you’re just looking to be a sadist.’
His continued confidence and brashness surprised me. Part of me admired him for it. I rarely came across such supreme detachment from what should have been a harrowing situation. His coldness in the face of adversity told me a lot.
I also knew I was struggling to keep a lid on the ever-growing red mist that was descending. Way back I’d been taught to suppress such urges. To act rationally and be in control at all times. I no longer had strong powers of restraint. In truth I wanted to tear the man limb from limb. And I wasn’t sure I could stop myself.
But I understood his point. Before long the train would be arriving in Moscow. I had only a small window of opportunity. I could hurt him and hurt him badly in that time. But would I get anything more from him that way? It would be impossible for me to know. It might even just make him too delirious to talk. And I certainly wasn’t a sadist. Even though this man had very probably just tried to have me killed, torturing was not something that I could undertake lightly. Not having been at the other end of it so horrifically on more than one occasion.