Chapter Three #2
gut. This had been his plan. This had been the place to heal and figure out his
next move. He’d given sixteen years to the Army. His entire adult life. He
never intended to leave until his time was up. He gave them everything and he
lost one limb and they asked him to leave. Oh, they said it was a deeper
problem, that he wasn’t right for the job after the accident, and offered him a
desk in some far-off station like he was an embarrassment. Now he was being
told he couldn’t even act as a bodyguard because he was too rigid. He wasn’t
even being given a chance.
He made it to the door when it was simply too much. He
turned, feeling his anger rise. “I expected better of you, Mr. Knight.”
A brow rose, but there wasn’t anger on Knight’s face. More
like a casual curiosity. “Did you?”
He’d read up on Knight, and Oliver had talked about his
father. “From what I understand you know exactly what it means to be in my
place. You know what it means to give your life to a job that throws you away
like garbage the minute you are no longer perfect.”
“I do indeed,” Knight said in a calm tone. He stood there in
his suit looking every inch the successful man.
But Mal knew Knight had once been through what he was going
through now. Knight had heart trouble after he was shot, and MI6 had sidelined
him. His scars were on the inside. He’d truly believed this man would
understand.
“Do you believe I can’t do the job? I can’t even throw my
body in front of a bloody client and take a bullet?”
“I’m sure you would do that with elegance and grace, Captain
Mays.”
“I am no longer a captain. I am no longer anything at all.”
Knight stood and pointed his way. “That is what I’m truly
worried about.” He moved around the desk. “Malcolm, I wasn’t going to allow you
to leave. If you look outside Oliver is waiting, but I wanted to see how you
would react and I wanted to see it because I do know exactly where you are.
I’ve been there, and I wasn’t a good person to be around back then. I was
stubborn and bitter and I hurt people I didn’t mean to. Most of all, I hurt
myself.”
Here he was again. His commanding officers had talked about
this, too. It was ridiculous. “I’m not suicidal.”
“I’m not talking about physical pain, though I looked
forward to it in an odd fashion. I would throw myself into every mission to try
to prove the doctors were wrong, that MI6 was wrong. If it hadn’t been for one
thing, I truly believe I would be dead today.”
“And what was that?” He would love to know how to get out of
the shit hole he was in.
“My wife.” There was a serene expression on his face, like
he was talking about heaven or something. “She learned my unique language, not
in words, necessarily, but in emotions, in how to make me understand I was
worth more than I offered myself. I was worth more than the job.”
“I’ve tried marriage. It wasn’t for me.” He sometimes
wondered about his nephews. He was sure they didn’t know who he was at all.
Hell, his mother had probably forgotten him by now. He wondered what she’d
thought when she’d gotten word he was missing. She’d still been listed as his
next of kin.
She hadn’t called him. No one had.
“Yes. I read about your divorce, too. Life hasn’t been fair
to you, but that doesn’t mean you should cut yourself off from anything but
work. The people in this company are a family. Well, most of them are. Some of
them are scared little girls who know too many ways to kill a man.” He shook
his head. “Sorry, that’s a problem for another day. What I’m trying to say is
we aren’t the military and you need to change your mindset. You didn’t even
accept my help in looking for another job. That’s not stubbornness, Malcolm.
That’s self-sabotage.”
He wasn’t necessarily wrong about that. “Well, I’m down to
nothing but my pride, Mr. Knight. I’m sure I’ll be willing to let go of that,
too, soon.”
“I doubt it. I think you’ll hang on to what you call pride
for far longer than it was ever useful to you,” Knight said, though his voice
was softer now. “You refused help after your accident.”
“I certainly did not. I did every hour of physical therapy
the doctors ordered and then some.” This was about his bloody leg, and it
pissed him off. “I taught myself to walk again. I can run in a C-leg. I assure
you I am back to full strength and don’t allow weakness to hold me back.”
“I was talking about the other therapy they offered you.”
He stopped, forcing the rage that seemed to always bubble
under his surface to calm. How many times had he heard this? That he wasn’t
strong enough. That he needed help. “I appreciated the offer, but I didn’t need
it.”
“That therapy is a gift to yourself. This is my offer, and
it’s one I give to every single person who works in this building. Six figures
a year. Flexible time. A flat here at The Garden rent free. All you have to do
is your job, and part of that job is to spend one hour a week talking with our
resident therapist. This isn’t strictly about you. My own children have
appointments with Dr. Adisa or her team.”
Mal thought about telling him to go to hell and walking
straight out, but Knight knew how to tempt a man.
The offer of the flat made him stop. He couldn’t afford one
on his own, certainly not in this part of the city. He’d thought he would have
to commute in from a cheaper place. He could easily get to Dominion, and if she
was still here…
He didn’t know what to do about the insane impulse to see a
woman he’d spent one night with, but it was there. She was always there. Viv
had probably gone back to America. She was probably happily settled in with a
Dom who wasn’t missing whole pieces of himself.
Where else did he have to go? What was one hour of his life
a week? He didn’t have to be honest. He could figure out what to say to a
therapist. He was smart and knew what they wanted to hear. He could surely seem
normal once a week.
“Oliver would like for you to join the team.” Knight laid it
out like an excuse. So Mal didn’t have to give up too much. “He’s got some
files he would like to get your eyes on. We have an open flat. Many of our
employees live here. Mostly the single ones. All of the married operatives
moved out when they had kids. There’s a full kitchen, and most of the time they
take turns cooking. You would also have an office of your own.”
“Yes.” He forced the word out before he could allow his
pride to silence him.
Knight nodded. “Excellent. Oliver will give you a tour of
the building and will introduce you to Ms. McKay. She handles new hires. Oliver
has the keys to your flat. When should we expect your movers?”
“No worries. I have a couple of suitcases but nothing more.
I’ve been staying at a hotel,” he explained. He had two suitcases and a
backpack. He was thirty-seven years old and he could carry all of his
belongings on his own. It was pathetic.
“Feel free to move into the flat today. I expect you bright
and early tomorrow morning,” Knight concluded. “We have a team briefing at nine
sharp. You’ll start out on close cover, but you’ll also work with the MI6 team.
I already got you clearance to do consulting work for now, but I suspect
they’ll try to recruit you. I think your experience can help my team
enormously.”
He knew he should be angry that Knight had tested him in
this fashion, but suddenly walking away with his stiff upper lip set firmly
held little appeal. “I appreciate the opportunity.”
Knight’s gaze held his. “So do I.”
He wasn’t sure what Knight meant by that, but he didn’t ask.
He had his job. He intended to do it.
* * * *
“Damon is invested in this man. Apparently he’s
worked with him before. I’m a bit worried.”
Vivian looked up from her laptop when Ariel walked in and
set a folder on her desk. “New hire? I didn’t think we were looking for people.
Didn’t we recently take in an extra?”
“I don’t think Damon would say Sosa is an employee. I
believe he referred to her as karma he didn’t expect.”
She smiled slightly. “Oh, I think he calls her Big Tag’s
latest gift.”
The young woman named Sosa had been sent to assassinate Ian
Taggart by a ruthless… They weren’t sure what to call it. It wasn’t a classic
syndicate. They trafficked young girls. Some for sex. Some for further
training. Sosa had been taken from her home and forced into brutal training.
And yet when she saw an opportunity to get herself and her friends out, she’d
taken it.
If only her friends had been as brave.
“Well, Robert has been working on identifying her, but the
records in small-town Russia can be hard to get hold of.”
“Is he working with Nikolai?” Vivian was invested in Sosa’s
progress. They’d decided she might work better with a younger woman, so she’d
taken on Sosa’s therapy. She liked the caustic, sarcastic woman. Deep down
there was a beautiful, kind soul. Just hidden. Really hidden.
She truly believed that finding Sosa’s identity would help
her move forward with her life. Figuring out what happened during that time was
key to Sosa’s recovery. Nikolai Markovic was a long-term operative who in the
last few years had specialized in missing persons, and better than that, he was
born in Russia and spoke the language.
“When the time is right and they think they have enough
evidence to shrink down the space we need to search, he’ll go to Russia with
Robert,” Ariel replied and then her head shook. “And they think Hayley and I
should go with them because it’ll be such a fun holiday.”
Vivi laughed. She was sure it was only an operative who
would suggest to their wives that searching through small Russian towns would
be a good time. “Well, I’ll hang out with Belle if you want to go.”
She loved hanging around with kids of all ages, though Belle
was sixteen. Kids were weird and fun, and she enjoyed being in their worlds.
Belle’s sister was at university, so hanging with her was not a big deal.
“Absolutely not,” Ariel refused with a sigh. “The boys can
go enjoy the cold. I’m staying here. My holiday is going to be in the south of
France, not on some op. As you Americans might say, I’m getting too old for
this shite.”