Chapter 3: Sneak
Durham, England
“Search the kitchen.” whispered the lead guard, who fell back to the rear. The house they were searching today was well decorated and small. However, the woman who lived here used to be an English ambassador. To the guard, it was almost depressing to see her fall from grace within weeks. However, he wasn’t here to judge, he was here to search. And do his job.
“Nobody here boss.” called one of the guards. “Want me to start searching through the drawers?”
The lead guard nodded, and began searching for personal documents. After ten minutes, all he could find was a passport and an old mobile phone. As he was about to slide the mobile phone into his pocket, an unexpected and unwanted guest came through the front door.
“What the fuck are you doing in my house?” screamed the woman, enraged. “Well? Do you know who I am?”
The lead guard nodded. “But don’t pretend your something your not…” looking at the passport, the guard read the woman’s name.
“Miss Donna Corbridge. 41 years old, unmarried, no children, no job.” he chuckled.
Donna flicked her hair out of her eyes.
“You know nothing about me.” she stammered.
“Oh but we do.” continued the guard. “We have records of every year of your life, every move you make, we know it. I think we know you better than you do, Donna.”
“Piss off.” hissed Donna. “And get out my house before I throw you out.
Leaving one by one after being searched by Donna, to make sure they hadn’t snuck out any of her possessions, Donna slammed the door. Crashing down onto her sofa, she began to think over what the guard had said.
“Umarried… no children… no job… 41 years old…”
He was right, on the most part. Even Donna knew that. She was nearing middle age, still single. But she did have a child- one she had kept hidden for seventeen years. And she wasn’t even allowed to see him. Was life honestly worth the effort she put in?
Every day she would go to her new job, draw up business plans, make coffee and serve her numerous bosses, who were ALL younger than her. She worked like a mule and barely scraped any money out of it. Maybe she should just cut herself free, no hassle about money, or men, or her job, or the company. A quick end to a harsh and unfair life.
No, she thought. No, I can’t do that.
Why? Niggled another bit of her brain. Who do you have that cares for you?
Lee. Wing. They care for me don’t they? Even if I don’t see them.
Don’t kid yourself. You have nobody. I doubt anyone would care if you died right now right here.
Wiping away the tears streaming down her cheeks, Donna headed to the kitchen and brought out a knife. Pressing it onto her skin, she felt the coldness drill into her. She had left Costello as her own choice, but she was sacked as English ambassador. Wing had thrown her out. Lee hated her. Angie and Dennis had no time for her. Thierry wouldn’t listen. Sergeant Jevans was dead. She had nobody… she needed a way out… and that way was..
Looking out at the sky for one last time, Donna’s eyes shifted from her window to the kitchen bench. A flick of paper caught her eye, and laying down the knife, she picked it up, and studied it. It was an advertisement for holidays in Oslo, Norway. Shoving the knife back into the drawer and packing her few items of value into a suitcase, Donna left her house without a second thought.
She didn’t need death to get out of her life. She needed a new start.
Austin, Texas USA
“Please Tamara, not anything big.” mumbled Jennifer down the phone. “I haven’t really met anyone yet, I’d prefer it if it was just a small gathering.”
Tamara sighed. “Okay. Let me come over and sort out the decorations though, its your housewarming and after all you’ve been through, you deserve a rest.”
“No.” insisted Jennifer. “You stay at home, it’s a lovely sunny day. I’ll deal with this, I’m fine.”
“It’s too late.” giggled Tamara. “I’ve already booked you a day pass at the spa.”
Pausing, Jennifer smiled. “Tamara, thank you so much. If you ever need anything, just ask.”
“Don’t mention it.” replied Tamara. “Now, go off and enjoy your day out. Let someone else take care of things.”
Moscow, Russia
“Mr Bilyadentov sir!” chirped Alexei, jogging down the corridor to catch up to Roman Bilyadentov, head of the Russian Intelligence. This was only the second time Alexei had ever met Roman, as he was barely out of his office.
“What do you want?” replied Roman slowly.
“I have reason to believe that we have a rat in our organisation.” whispered Alexei. “An imposter.”
“An imposter?” bellowed Roman. “Impossible. Our security is top notch, and no imposter would be able to stay undetected.”
“This one is highly trained sir.” said Alexei. “I have evidence that he has been contacting French officials based in the UK.”
Roman snorted. “And where is this evidence?”
Sliding Miroslav Sharakov’s phone out of his pocket, Alexei held it up to Roman.
“It’s right in my hand Mr Bilyadentov.”
Taking a deep exhale of air, Roman quickly ushered Alexei to his office.
“Now… Alexei Rodin. Explain yourself.”
Alexei’s face lit up. For once, he was recognised. Now, he was the one in control of Miroslav.
New London, England
Holding his head in his hands over his desk, Thierry poured over old files of Costello targets and staff. He had a 63% decrease of staff over the past 3 months. Things weren’t looking good, and even international companies were starting to lose faith in the aging Frenchman.
As he was scanning through, Thierry found two files in particular. They were that of Mitch Russo, and Tadashi Kensei. Two of his former healers of London, two of the people that helped create ‘New London’. Would they really be in any position to turn down his job offer?
When Thierry had last seen Mitch Russo, the man had been a sorry sight. Gangly, greasy hair down past his ears, looking over 250lbs, and a down right mess. He was unemployed, single and bordering on mentally depressed. Would be even be in any state to turn down a job offer?
And Tadashi was more of a mystery to Thierry. He hadn’t been able to find out anything about Tadashi’s family or childhood, and his name didn’t show up on any birth records, which was extremely strange. It made him almost impossible to track down, but Thierry guessed he was residing somewhere in Asia, as he received word of Tadashi using his passport on a plane to the middle east.
Pressing the button which signalled Daniel Winters, Thierry buzzed Daniel into his office.
“Welcome Daniel.” said Thierry. “Sit down.”
“What is it you need Thierry?” asked Daniel.
“I require you too study the individual named Tadashi Kensei.” stated Thierry. “We can’t control your dreams, but we can influence them.”
“What do you mean?” questioned Daniel, but Thierry was already handing Daniel Tadashi’s file.
“Tadashi Kensei.” said Thierry. “We can’t find his birth certificate, we can’t track him down, and I want to know why. Study this before you go to sleep tonight.”
“But sir, isn’t there anyone else-”
“This is not a request.” replied Thierry. “This is an order.”
Moscow, Russia
“Alek my boy!” called Miroslav, lifting his two year old son up into his arms and holding him high above his head.
“You haven’t been pulling out more on Sanya’s hair have you?” cooed Miroslav. “You left her plaits in an awful state last time.”
Chewing on a toy car, Alek shook his head quickly.
“Sanya is playing with barbies!” giggled Alek. “I asked her to play cars but I think she still in mood.”
“Maybe Sanya prefers barbies to cars?” suggested Miroslav. “After all, you threw your last car off her head remember?”
“I refuse to admit anything daddy. Now let me play with my cars!” ordered Alek. Setting his son down, Miroslav hoped that Alek wouldn’t continue to terrorise his twin sister.
“Baby.” sighed Miroslav, gently massaging his wife Katarina’s back.
“Leave the tea for a while, come and sit down.”
“I can’t Miroslav.” replied Katarina. “Maybe soon, just let me finish dishing out.”
“Okay.” replied Miroslav. “I’ll save the rest for later.” he winked, leaving the room.
“Daddy daddy daddy!” came a panicked scream from upstairs. Rushing up, Miroslav found his daughter Sanya standing on top of her bed with Alek, pointing out of the window.
“Daddy are they your friends?” asked Sanya innocently. The men she was pointing too were from the Russian Intelligence.
Miroslav would have assumed they came on business, but he spotted one of the men sliding out a handgun from his pocket.
“Katarina!” shouted Miroslav anxiously. “Katarina, come up here for a moment.”
Dragging herself from the kitchen, Katarina arrived to see a worried husband and confused children.
“What’s wrong Miroslav?” she asked. It seemed to echo throughout his head, as things started to slot together.
Last night. He realised he had lost his phone. Traced his thoughts back to the diner. He had left his phone in his coat pocket, and his coat hanging over the chair. There was nobody apart from Alexei to stop anybody stealing his phone.
But wouldn’t a thief have stolen the coat also? And Miroslav was sure that if anyone had stolen anything, Alexei would have told him.
But would he? Miroslav knew that Alexei didn’t like being underestimated, and thought more of himself than he was worth. Could Alexei have took it?
Miroslav would have to take that chance. He was under the assumption that his partner, Alexei Rodin, had stolen his mobile phone.
Who could have contacted him? Thought Miroslav. He scanned through the people he remembered from his contacts, before coming to one down at the bottom. Of course.
Thierry Mointoie. He had tried recruiting Miroslav for a big mission in Las Vegas, which Miroslav had accepted. However, Thierry always suspected betrayal. It was possible that he rang Alexei, and panicking, Alexei hung up. Miroslav thought Alexei would then tell the highest person, as he would see it as an act of treason against Russia by consorting with a French security head…
That was why they were after him. They were coming to kill him, and Miroslav knew they wouldn’t be hasty to spare the lives of Katarina, Alek and Sanya.
“Go.” ordered Miroslav. “Kat, you remember the room I told you about?” asked Miroslav, rushing now. “The secret is known to only you and I. Go there, nobody will be able to discover it. Hide. Take shelter. Don’t contact me. Don’t try to get in touch with me using my mobile. Wait for me too come to you.”
Kissing his wife on the head, he lead her to the room. In the study, Miroslav had built a ‘Help’ room. Behind the bookcases, into Miroslav’s personal study for his work, and on the circular wall was a code lock for the safe.
Apart from the code didn’t work for the safe.
The code was used to open a door concealed in the wall. The door would open, and you could take refuge for up to a month, with food supplies plentiful. If you got the combination wrong, the safe would open, with hundreds of millions of fake Rubles for any robber or intruder to get distracted by. Genius, really.
Placing his family into the room, Miroslav grabbed weapons off the walls.
“I will be back.” he said.
“Where are you going?” shrieked Katarina. “Who is coming for us?”
“I have been stitched up.” answered Miroslav. “The government are under the false impressions I am working for a different international security company. They are coming to kill me, Katarina.” and taking a pause, Miroslav continued. “And they will kill you too.”
“I love you Kat.” sniffed Miroslav. “And daddy loves you Alek, Sanya. Be good for your mother.”
And with that, Miroslav locked the door tight. Wiping away tears, he loaded up his shotgun and left the secret room. By now the agents would be in the house. And he was more than ready.
Entering the kitchen silently, Miroslav spotted two guards searching the large room. Attaching a silencer to his weapon, Miroslav patiently waited until they met up in the centre of the room. One shot would do it.
And sure enough, as the pair talked and got closer, they were closer in Miroslav’s line of sight. Standing up, before the pair had a chance to gasp, Miroslav shot a spray of bullets which were embedded into the chest of both guards. They dropped dead quickly.
Not happy with killing two men, Miroslav moved on. Blocking the front door was a patrol of five guards, each armed with lethal machine guns.
However, in Miroslav’s opinion, stealth favoured against power. He knew he would need precision to take out the five men and escape.
Taking no chances, Miroslav overturned the coffee table and pushed it just behind the front door. And as he looked up, he aimed for the head.
Pulling the trigger, the first guard was killed in an instant. It wasn’t pretty however, as the shotgun tore apart his face. Without needing to reload, Miroslav blasted shots at the second guard, who fell in agony.
The final three drew their weapons and began firing around the room. Pulling out a large cleaver knife, Miroslav dashed towards two of the guards before they had a chance to think. He slashed the stomach of one, and turned and slit the throat of the next. The third guard was utterly bemused, and begged for mercy.
“Please!” cried the guard. “I have children. They are young, and my wife cannot work.” he gulped. “They will not have enough money to eat if I die.”
Sympathy overwhelmed Miroslav as he stupidly turned and walked out of the front door. Seizing the opportunity, the last remaining guard sprayed his weapon at Miroslav.
Hearing the shots ripple through the air, Miroslav dived to the side. He bit his fist to avoid screaming out as a bullet tore into his left arm. He tried to ignore the pain as he drew his shotgun and held it in both hands, waiting for the guard to come out of the house.
It was five minutes before the guard came out, tossing a flash bang hopefully. Miroslav looked away quickly, avoiding the worst of the flash, before screaming and shooting at the man with terror.
As the dust from the flash grenade cleared, Miroslav heard the man moaning. The man was unarmed, and Miroslav approached him.
Taken aback by what damage he actually caused, Miroslav noticed that the mans right leg had been blown to pieces by the shot. He was bleeding heavily and pale.
“My…” moaned the man. “My wife… my little boy…” he cried. “Why did you destroy their lives?!” he bellowed.
“I didn’t.” replied Miroslav calmly. “I gave you a chance and you threw it away. It was your sorry actions that will cause the financial stress of your wife.”
Walking away to the car the men had arrived in, he started it and was quick to drive away. They had even left the keys in the ignition.
Paris, France
“Place your luggage onto this carrier.” smiled the receptionist. She was serving a man who looked fairly rough, but that didn’t take away his good looks. Even though his French was bad and his accent strongly eastern European, she found it attractive.
“Is this your first time flying with us?” she asked him in French. The man nodded.
“Sorry for my bad French, I only started speaking when it was… necessary.” he grinned.
“Passport please.” said the woman, holding out her hand. The man dug into his pockets, dragging out a passport with Український паспорт Ліцензія printed in bold on the front.
Flicking to the mysterious strangers picture, the woman was surprised at how much the man had changed. Though the picture was just over a year old, she could tell the differences easily.
The man looked worn and older, and his voice had a sense of desparation too it.
“Mikael Mentroski?” asked the receptionist.
Mikael smiled. “Yes.”
“So,” began the receptionist. “What takes you too New London?”
“Business.” stated Mikael. “I have some… pressing concerns to attend too. I originally intended to meet the person and deal with them in Paris, but it appears they are taking a short holiday to England.”
“So I decided its better to meet them there now then back here in two weeks.” he winked.
“I see.” smiled the receptionist. “Who is this mysterious person you plan to meet? Your girlfriend?”
“Her name is Carline.” replied Mikael. “I think its about time we caught up with each other.”
Letting Mikael pass through, the receptionist waved as Mikael boarded the plane. Unknown to her, the seemingly nice man from Ukraine planned on extracting his revenge on Carline Mointoie.
Slowly and painfully. Miroslav began to cackle as the plane left the airport and left for New London.
To Be Continued
Home
However the chapters will be longer, because I've changed the style A LOT. It's much more descriptive and I think it flows much better.
Thanks 
) and V4 will be following similarly to this in the theme of it all, so if this one goes down well I'll write V4 similarly