Be Brave (4 page)

end of the bright room to find an unoccupied table and opened the lunch box Angel

had packed for him. With care he arranged his meal in front of him: a ham and

cheese sandwich with lettuce on brown bread, a bottle of Perrier water, and a fruit

salad. At the bottom of the Tupperware box was a little folded note. He opened it

and read.
Enjoy your lunch, Daddy. Love from your Angel
. From his pocket, he took

a small bottle of hand sanitizer and carefully rubbed a dollop into his hands.

Across the cafeteria, several of the men and women who had failed to show up

for his German class that morning were eating their lunch. When one of them

caught his eye, she turned away quickly and leaned forward to whisper to the

others. Predictably they turned cautiously to look at him. Kael picked up half his

sandwich and bit into it.
Fucking numskulls.

His afternoon class was smaller and much more disciplined. There were only

five of them, two women and three men, and all were slotted for undercover

operations. They had spent several weeks on how to kill in public places and leave

unseen. Today he would begin teaching them how to withstand torture in the event

that they were captured on the job. If only Misha had been there; she would have

taught them a thing or two.

Kael walked purposefully into the dim basement room, just as he always did.

This group was definitely afraid of him, but at least they respected him. Over the

last few weeks, he had lulled them into some level of cautious comfort and decided

now was the moment to make a point. Striding directly over to one of the women, he

grabbed her by one arm, dragged her in to his chest, and threw her to the ground.

In a split second, he had her pinned to the floor, completely overpowered by his

weight.

Angel and the Assassin: Be Brave

13

Looking down into her terrified eyes, he felt only a moment of regret. Perhaps

he should have done it to one of the men. But no, he could not treat them

differently. They were operational officers first and women second. If they were

captured, no one would treat them kindly. He rolled off her and stood up, lifting her

to her feet as he did so.

“Never get taken by surprise,” he said calmly.

The fear in the young woman"s face was briefly replaced by a slight

embarrassment at being caught out, but she looked him in the eye. “Yes, sir.”

“Now gather round.” The room was small and completely empty of furniture.

During this class, Kael would talk for long periods, making his people stand to test

their stamina. They drew close.

His body completely still, his face a mask of indifference, Kael"s hand shot out,

grabbing the largest of the men around the back of the neck. The man lost his

balance easily as Kael kicked his feet out from under him, tossing him to the

ground. He was winded but responded at once by twisting his body to grab Kael by

the ankles, attempting to pull him to the ground. Carefully, so as not to do too much

damage but again determined to make his point, Kael centered his weight on one

leg and kicked. His black leather shoe made contact with the man"s jaw. Blood

poured from his torn lower lip, and he cried out in pain, releasing his tentative grip

on Kael"s ankle.

“What did I just tell you? Never be taken by surprise.”

Just for a moment, Kael saw resentment in his expression before the man

pulled the hem of his shirt from his pants to sop up the blood. The man took a deep

breath. “Yes, sir.”

Very nervous, their collective stance defensive, the group stood assessing him.

Their eyes darted to the position of his hands, watching his body language, ready

for any twitch of movement. A slow smile crossed his face. “I see I have made my

point. Are you all on alert?”

“Yes, sir.” A couple of them actually grinned now.

“What kind of torture do you think you may be subjected to if you were caught

on a job?”

“Waterboarding?” one woman said.

Kael nodded and began to list the forms of coercion that could be used against

them. To their credit and to the credit of their training, they did not flinch as he

went into the details of electric shocks, drowning, hanging by individual limbs, and

the fact that they would be experiencing these techniques personally over the next

few weeks. He walked up and down as he spoke, but ordered them to stand to

attention.

A tap on the door drew his gaze, and when it opened and Dragana walked in,

he was surprised and pleased to see her. She hadn"t lost any of the weight she had

promised herself she would lose, but Angel would definitely tell him it was not

polite to mention it. Dragana had been invaluable when assisting him in rescuing

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Fyn Alexander

Angel from his Bosnian captors last September. In a couple of strides, he crossed

the room and took her into a warm embrace. His students eyed each other at this

uncharacteristic show of tenderness. Mr. Saunders actually felt warmly toward

someone? He stepped outside the room with her, closing the door.

“How"s your foot?”

She looked up at him, her dark eyes crinkled into a fond smile, and she spoke

in heavily accented English. “Not bad when I remember I took a bullet last

September. How is your young man?”

“He"s good. We"ve settled into, er…domesticity.” His cheeks flushed slightly at

the very thought that he had become a family man, even if his family did consist of

just him and Angel.

She nodded her approval. “I am on desk job now, language analyst and

teacher. I"m not going back to the field, not even to pretend to be a char lady and

plant listening devices,” she said, acknowledging how they"d met. “But Kael, the

reason I came to see you is I was in Mr. Conran"s office about my new job, and he

say to tell you to go and see him when your class is finished.”

“What does he want?”

Dragana shrugged. “I had better let you go back to work.” Kael watched her

walk down the corridor, her limp pronounced. When he entered the classroom

again, his students fell into a respectful silence, but every one of them was ready for

him. They were a good group; they should do well.

“Do any of you practice meditation? It"s a good thing to know to keep the mind

orderly in cases of prolonged isolation.”

* * *

“What do you want? I"m going home,” he said. Even after six months of living with

his lovely boy, he was still amazed at his passion, not only for Angel, but for the life

they were sharing. Having someone to go home to made life very different. All he

wanted was to get home to Angel.

At his desk going over a report, Conran looked up.

“Harry Denbigh has been let go per your recommendation.”

“Good! He"s a useless little shit. He"ll probably end up working in private

security and getting himself killed because he"s a coward. I actually tried to help

him act like a man for all the good it did either of us.”

“I heard you threw him off the castle wall,” Conran said.

“It was a tower wall actually, and yes, I did. Are you going to fire me?” Kael

laughed, knowing how valuable he was.

“Of course not. I also heard that your young Mr. Button distinguished himself.

It seems he"s foolhardy like you.”

“No. He"s fearless like me. And you saw my assessment of Thornton? She"s

excellent.”

Angel and the Assassin: Be Brave

15

“I did.”

Stephen Conran steepled his fingers, elbows on his desk. He licked his upper

lip, a habit Kael had observed the man indulge many times when he was nervous.

And he was always nervous around Kael. He paused, swallowed, and spoke quietly.

“Look, the reason I called you in is because I"m taking you off your language classes.

Someone else will take over the German and French, and Dragana Adzovic is taking

over your Russian class. You"ll continue with your afternoon classes training

operatives in self-defense, firearms, and all the things you excel at.”

Every muscle in Kael"s body tightened. He loved languages, and he loved

teaching them. “What the fuck?”

Conran used one foot to push his swivel chair back from his desk as if

attempting to put a little more distance between them. He took a long breath and

glanced at the door. Kael was unsure if Conran hoped no one outside would hear or

if he was gauging his access to escape if need be. “Saunders, I"m sorry, but there

have been complaints.”

“Stillwell? The Billy Bunter of my German class?”

“You hit him across the head!”

“He deserved it!”

Conran rose and went quickly to the whisky bottle sitting on a silver tray on

the polished sideboard. He poured two tumblers and then hurried toward Kael,

proffering the glass with a look of frightened urgency. He had been afraid of Kael

ever since they had boarded together at College Grange School as teenagers and

Kael had punished Conran for being rude about his mother.

Standing up, Kael towered over Conran, who was no more than five feet ten.

With a flick of his wrist, he sent the tumbler flying across the room, where it landed

on the hardwood floor, shattering into splinters. The smell of fine whisky sat rich in

the air. “Stillwell is as thick as pig shit. They"re all idiots in that class.”

Conran took a quick gulp of whisky. “So you should be grateful to get rid of

them then.”

“I"m brilliant at languages.” He watched Conran hurry behind his desk again.

“You are indeed brilliant at learning languages in a very short time and

retaining them. You are brilliant at speaking them with no discernible accent. You

are not brilliant at teaching them.”

“Why not?” Kael demanded. How dare the little shit tell him he had faults?

Looking frightened and frustrated, Conran"s face was growing red. “Look,

Saunders, why don"t you sit down.”

“Am I making you nervous?” Kael placed both hands on Conran"s desk and

leaned into his face.

In a quiet voice, his eyes averted, Conran said, “You always make me nervous.

I have spent the day dreading talking to you about this. Please sit down. Please.”

Kael stood upright as if he had no intention of complying. “Get me a whisky.”

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Fyn Alexander

Conran leaped up to obey, and Kael sat down comfortably again, resting his

left ankle on his right knee, looking as if he was in his own home watching

television. He took the glass and swallowed half in one swig. “Let me get this right.

You"re removing me from my position because I smacked an idiot across the head.”

“It"s not just him. Half your German class was at human resources last Friday

complaining that you threw chalk and blackboard erasers at anyone who sniffed too

loudly or dropped a pen.”

“That"s an exaggeration.” Kael finished his whisky and put the glass on the

desk.

“Members of your Russian class have been complaining from the moment term

began, especially about the mobile phones you"ve confiscated. And perhaps you

didn"t notice, but your French class went from twenty-three students down to eight

by the third week. No one complained; they just quietly dropped out, citing various

reasons.”

Of course he had noticed. “The ones that are left really want to learn.”

“People are afraid of you. Which is fine for your afternoon sessions but not in a

language class. Most of your language students will go into desk jobs. They"ll never

work in the field. The most dangerous thing most of them will ever do will be to

negotiate the Underground. You cannot treat them like operatives.”

Conran had a point. “All right. I"ll tone down my teaching style. I"ll be kinder.

Treat the little fucks with kid gloves. Will that make you happy?”

“It"s unfortunate you didn"t do that from the beginning. It"s too late now, and

it"s out of my hands. You"ve been replaced.”

“I will not be replaced.” He had wanted to teach so he could spend time at

home with Angel. His boy needed him. “I"m a good teacher!” he shouted so loudly

that Conran jumped.

Kael got to his feet again, unable to remain still when he was agitated. The

routine of teaching—working in the closed environment of a classroom—had taken

its toll over the last six weeks since classes had begun. The lack of physical activity

had driven him to the gym every day, where he worked out for two hours until his

muscular body was leaner and more finely tuned than ever. Together with the

adrenaline rush his anger had given him, he couldn"t stop himself from stepping

round the desk and dragging Conran to his feet.

Holding Conran by his tie and a handful of his shirt, Kael threw him up