Frequent Traveller (Cathy Dixon #1) (24 page)

“It’s nothing you haven’t done before. Stop being a whiny schoolgirl and just bloody get to it. If you didn’t want this life, you shouldn’t have killed your father. It’s that fucking simple.”

A long pause followed as Cathy glared at him, knowing there was little she could say or do to change his mind.

“I ... I just ...”

“What?! What are you going to tell me that I haven’t heard before? You didn’t know you had it in you? You were not sure about what you were doing? Bollocks! We all have it in us and not all of us act on it. You did. You will pull the trigger or you go back to the cell where you came from. Make up your mind, fast!”

Cathy glanced at her hands. A tear trickled down as the memories came flooding back. 'A way out,' she thought, but none came to her and none that she would willingly carry out.

“I’ll do it,” she said softly.

“I thought as much. As I said before, the VIN number is scratched off and the weapon is virtually untraceable. IF anything does come up, it’ll come back to us. You will have dinner with the target at The Empress. Wear the black wig that’s in the bag. After dinner, invite him for a walk by the pier. The second you have a chance, pull the trigger and wipe the weapon clean. It's a suppressed 9mm. No one will hear anything and he won’t see it coming.”

He watched Cathy with her head buried in her hands as she listened. The long red hair, the beautiful face that masked so many secrets, the unmistakable impression she had made, the first day she had walked into the CI-7 mission room. If only she had come clean all those years ago, she would not be in this position now. But what had to be done, had to be done. She had made her choice and the best he could do was guide her.

Jeremy’s voice softened a little.

“Meet me in the black van by the side of the road. We’ll have a change of clothes and bring you back here. We’ll take care of the weapon. If anybody asks, you were outside the property having coffee with an ‘old friend’ Mark who will be waiting in the van for you. People will see the two of you coming back to MoonStar together. Understood?”

“Yes, but why does he have to be killed? The others ... when I’ve done it before, they’ve been taken in for questioning or arrested ... what did he do?”

“What did your father do to deserve a knife in his chest? You said he raped you. Nobody found anything. Maybe you came on to him and he refused you,” Jeremy glared at Cathy.

“Stop it!” Cathy screamed, holding her hands to her face.

“He has gone beyond selling info ... graduated into biological weapons. We have tried for two years to stop him with every legal way possible but he’s covered his tracks well. Next week, at the Creative Global Meet, we have confirmed reports that he plans to release some new virus into the air vents. He needs to be eliminated and that’s your job. Everything else, you leave to us. We have been doing this even before you were born. We know what to do.”

Cathy nodded, her stomach already in a huge knot. She stood up and walked towards the window.

“You seem especially angry that I brought up your father’s death. Is there anything you want to tell me? I always knew there was someone else in the room with you. The fools that the local police were they didn’t have a clue but the way the body had been dragged towards the door ... was there someone else in the room with you? Is that what this is all about?”

“No, I killed my father. As I’ve always said, he had been forcing himself on me for years and that night I snapped,” Cathy said in a hurry as she turned to face him.

“If you say so. This is yours,” said Jeremy, pointing to the gun that he placed on the bed.

“We are always watching, Cathy. Remember that. Always.”

Cathy heard a loud 'click' as Jeremy left the room and closed the door behind him. For all the years they had trained her, she had never expected to pull the trigger. How was it possible that she would soon be responsible for the end of someone else’s life? But if she did not do this, then more people would be killed. Could she really pull it off? She took a deep breath and started to get ready.

William looked at the woman walking next to him at the pier. These days, few women looked this. Classy, elegant and simply beautiful. Any man would walk through fire just to spend an evening with her and here he was, with her on his arm. She had been eating dinner alone at the hotel in which he was staying, The Empress. She had approached him and asked if they could share a table. She told him she had just been dumped by her boyfriend and could use a little company. One look and he knew he could spend all night with her if she wanted. As they walked across the deserted pier, Cathy looked around one final time before she reached for the weapon in her bag.

Her fingers traced the steel, as she hesitated a little, then took it out and pointed it at him. His face crumpled with fear.

“What the fuck are you doing? Do you want money? Here, this is a Rolex,” he said grabbing at his watch, the panic in his voice apparent.

Cathy took a deep breath.

His body slumped towards her. Cathy stepped away, stunned. She looked at the weapon in her hand. Almost instantly, she had a whiff of rotten apples and turned around as a figure stepped out from the shadows.

“Reggie, is that you?” she croaked hoarsely as the shock wore off.

“How did you know?”

“That smell ... It was the same chewing gum that you were chewing the night you visited me in prison.”

Reggie towered over her, his smile still as crooked as it had been all those years ago.

“Not bad Catherine, you remember."

"Of course I do. Wait. Reggie, what do I tell Jeremy and the rest? This was supposed to be my mission.”

“And it was. I’m not here. We’re not talking and that’s how it will stay,” he said.

Reggie took the weapon from Cathy, fired a shot into the water, wiped it clean and dropped it into her bag.

“Besides, you really don’t have it in you. I’ve done this at least a hundred times. You haven’t done it even once. Let’s not start.”

Cathy looked at him, not sure if she understood what he was saying. He slowly took her arm and led her away from the pier.

“You knew?”

“Of course I’ve known. We’ve all known but we could never prove it and you didn’t make it easy. A lot of things didn’t make sense. Thomas was the only person who knew that the window was locked from the outside. I remember his exact words, ‘Cathy couldn’t run from her father because the window was locked from the outside that evening’. Nobody asked, nobody wanted to know but he did and it always bothered me.”

“If you knew all along, why didn’t you say something? And now ... wh-what happens to us?”

Cathy felt a lump in her throat. The one secret she had guarded with her life was spilling over and she couldn’t stop it from happening.

“Nothing. I’m retired, remember? No more missions, no more rescuing troubled teenagers from prison cells.” He laughed loudly hoping to ease the tension. “Catherine, give an old man some peace of mind. Tell me what really happened that night. Just so I know. It stays between us, I promise.”

They had walked away from the pier by now, she stopped to look around and took a long, deep breath.

“Thomas knew what was happening and even his parents knew, but my mother refused to believe it and things just got worse. Then one day, we thought we could scare my father. We just wanted it to stop. Thomas and I were about the same height and we had the same skinny build. That night, Thomas lay under the covers pretending to be me. It wasn’t supposed to be murder. There wasn’t supposed to be any blood. But when my father got into bed, there was a struggle ... he had been drinking and Thomas fought back. My father was stabbed and I watched from the closet. In just minutes, there was so much blood and we both knew he was dead.” Cathy’s words came fast but she was not sure if she was relieved or still fearful.

They stopped walking as they reached the night market.

“We were in such a state afterwards. The plan was for me to get rid of the knife, for Thomas to be seen by his parents, for me to stay at his house and the next day we could pretend that we didn’t know anything. But an hour after the stabbing, I could have sworn I felt him move and I panicked, I ran to Thomas’ house and well ... you know the rest.”

Reggie stared at the young woman in front of him. Her words didn’t shock him.

“He must really love you. He killed for you.”

“He didn’t kill for me, he saved me. Nobody else wanted to even acknowledge it was happening.”

“And now, you’re saving him. Well, if you weren’t spy material then, you are now. Go on Catherine, I think that’s the van. And remember I wasn’t here,” Reggie said, as he slinked back into the shadows.

EPILOGUE - ISLE OF MAN

October 2010

Legend has it that an Irish giant known as Fionn Cumhaill was in a bitter battle with a Scottish rival and had ripped up a large chunk of land which he had flung and landed in the Irish Sea, forming what the world now knows as the Isle of Man. Many tales of fairies and mythological creatures surround the older buildings and locations of the island. One famous attraction known as Fairy Bridge is believed to bring bad luck to those who cross it without offering a greeting to the fairies surrounding it.

Although the Queen of England is observed as Head of State, the Isle of Man is not part of the United Kingdom and runs its own government.

Other than its tourist attractions, the Isle of Man is also well-known for “TT Racing” which is otherwise referred to as the Isle of Man Tourist Trophy Race. Having started in 1907, it has evolved into a yearly festival and attracts an international audience. It is now known as one of the greatest road racing events in the world.

On one particularly cool autumn evening, three loud popping sounds broke the evening calm, at the corner of Douglas, Isle of Man’s main district. Inside the MoonStar Manx, guests laughed and cheered as waiters continued to open sixty bottles of champagne. An exquisite wedding cake, stood tall at the front of the hall, underneath a huge banner that said, “Congratulations Mr. & Mrs. Hughes”.

The couple sat at the main table, blissfully aware that their happiness was being shared by everyone in the room. The husband turned to look at his wife as she walked to meet an old friend. In his eyes, she hadn’t changed from the day he had met her more than sixty years ago.

Two silly teenagers on summer vacation with their parents, had glanced across the room, awkwardly realizing they were the only ones, over five and below twenty. He had asked if she would like to dance and she had said “if you step on my new shoes, I’ll pinch you.”

He took his chances. Afterwards, they had shared a sandwich and a soda. In the days to come, they had gone on long walks, on a fishing trip and later shared their first kiss under the oak tree by the boatshed. When they parted, each clutched a piece of paper with the other person’s home address. Every week he wrote to her and she wrote back, each letter a little longer than the previous one, as they shared their hopes and dreams. During the summers that followed, they had met again. Always, she looked more beautiful. When he had finally saved enough money to visit her, he had received enlistment orders to join the war, uncertain of a return date.

But she had never forgotten him. With every maildrop that arrived, he received something from her. Encouraging, hopeful words of love waiting for him when he got home. Deep down, he felt that a day might come when she would give up on waiting for him, when she would cast away her teenage dreams into a box and trade them for womanhood. But, she remained faithful.

When the war had ended and he had walked into his parents' house, walking stick in hand he had seen that familiar face, still more beautiful than ever. It had been more than three years since they had seen each other and had much to share.

That night, when he had asked her to dance, she once more said, “Step on my shoes and I’ll pinch you.” He had laughed and taken out the little box he had saved from before the war. And here they were, sixty years later. Four children, ten grandchildren and two great grandchildren.

He could no longer dance and was bound to a wheelchair while she had lost her sight in the left eye. Yes, the two silly teenagers had grown old together and now came back every year for their wedding anniversary, to the same hotel they had met in, all those years ago. The name, the owners and management had changed numerous times but there was a small piece of their history in the corners of the older buildings.

It was always good to remember your starting point because then, you knew how much you had progressed. This year, however, it would be their last. Age was catching up faster than either of them liked and doctors advised against long trips for both. He needed daily medical supervision but wherever she was, he was. There was no question about that. After all these years, nothing had changed, that much he knew.

As the adults danced and giggling children joined in, others looked on with nothing but full appreciation for the joy of this function. One couple in particular seemed to be enjoying themselves. Thomas watched as Cathy tilted her head back and laughed, while she did her best to avoid stepping on his shoes again.