CHAPTER 40
ROXY
Eight years earlier
London, England, United Kingdom
It was a prestigious position, but deadly dull in Lieutenant Kerr's opinion. Fieldwork, the hub of actual activity, was what she craved. But her superiors would have disapproved of her turning down this promotion. So, she followed the orders, as she always did.
The lieutenant breathed a sigh of relief when the clock struck 5 p.m. and the liaison officer on duty entered their shared office. She gave him the usual briefing, picked up her bag, and left for the day.
The cool air hit her face the moment she stepped outside. She put on her beret and took her traditional walk to unwind, heading for her bench by the Thames. "Bloody day," she muttered under her breath.
Bloody Day indeed.
Major Ashton arrived at her office less than ten minutes after she got there that morning.
He was there to prep a briefing for the National Security Advisor and Prime Minister May concerning a certain situation in Eastern Europe.
As usual, everyone noticed Lieutenant Kerr's performance and professionalism, including the people dressed in civilian clothes whom the lieutenant did not have the necessary security clearance to know who they were.
The day was not over yet, and other surprises could still occur.
As she was about to make the turn onto Horse Guard Avenue, her phone rang.
Incoming Call: Meredith Price
"Mere? What's going on?"
Meredith burst out laughing on the other end of the line. "Sheesh. As if I always call you about my problems."
Roxy let out a laugh.
"Ay! Slow down there… I'm just calling to confirm our flatmate’s date next week. Are you going to stand me up for your new guy... um? Cedric?"
"Charles," Roxy replied. "That hasn't changed since the tenth time I told you. I'll be all yours for our date."
"Yeah," Meredith exclaimed. "You know it would be a lot easier for me to remember a woman's name, but oh well..."
"Mere," Roxy said impatiently. "Don't start."
Roxy could sense Meredith's smile on the other end of the line. "I love you too, bye!" Meredith hung up, proud of herself. Roxy couldn't help but let out a soft laugh. How could she hold a grudge against Meredith?
A voice interrupted her thoughts. "Excuse me, ma'am.
I'm trying to find out how to get to Westminster Station.
" A woman, looking like a tourist, most likely in her forties, stood in front of the lieutenant, flashing a beautiful smile.
She had no accent that would allow the lieutenant to determine her origins. The lieutenant remained on her guard.
Westminster?
Seriously?
One of the easiest stations to locate?
"Uh, yes, of course. Go up Whitehall and continue to Bridge St. It's across from Big Ben. You can't miss it."
"Thank you very much, ma'am," replied the woman. "You're so kind," and she continued toward Whitehall.
The lieutenant glanced at the woman and continued her way, finding her usual bench. She sat up straight, keeping her back aligned and her boots in line. This posture wasn't for show—it had become second nature since she joined the Army Cadets Force when she was twelve years old.
The lieutenant closed her eyes and let the emptiness that had been absent all day fill her head. It was a moment when she didn't need to care about anything else. But something felt strange today.
She felt a growing certainty that she was the subject of covert observation, as individuals around her became unnaturally still and stole furtive looks.
It was impossible not to notice her, dressed in her immaculate uniform, complete with the unique cypress green beret of the Intelligence Corps, gleaming boots, and her medals proudly worn.
Then the jogger appeared for the third time that week. She was maybe in her late twenties old, blonde, slim, and visibly muscular. Beautiful.
The lieutenant watched her for too long, without really knowing why.
The jogger briefly caught her eye and smiled at the lieutenant, who returned an awkward smile.
She tried not to think about Meredith's theory, but she was completely struck by a sudden realization.
"Wait a minute," said the lieutenant aloud, now looking at her watch.
"Third time this week. Same place, same time," exclaimed a voice behind the lieutenant.
"Not everyone would have noticed quickly as you did.
" The voice was familiar. The lieutenant turned around and saw the tourist—who was clearly not a tourist—smiling at her.
"Impressive, I must say," she added, her voice now with a Welsh accent.
The lieutenant glanced at her, not wanting to give her too much attention. But it was too late; her curiosity got the better of her. The woman walked around the bench and sat down next to the lieutenant.
"Do you always interrupt army officers' moments of relaxation like this?" asked the lieutenant in a challenging tone. She was already starting to look for a way out if necessary.
"Only those who show incredible potential for development. You don't talk much, Lieutenant Kerr, but you notice everything. That means you don't talk just to talk," the woman replied.
The lieutenant stayed put and expressionless. "Let's save each other time and tell me what is this approach?"
She didn't answer immediately, then turned her head just enough to meet her gaze.
A smile appeared on her face just before she began.
"Lieutenant Roxanne Elizabeth Kerr. Service number zero-eight-seven-five-tango.
Everyone is calling you 'Roxy.' You were born on April 12, 1993, in the town of Pitlochry, in Scotland.
Your current role is as an Intelligence liaison officer at the Office of the Prime Minister, affiliated with the 41st Military Intelligence Company. "
"Okay, but nothing confidential here." She did her best to keep a neutral expression, but even so, her brain had switched into analysis mode and continued to listen to her.
"You graduated with honours in international relations from King's College.
In less than ten months, you were selected for field duty, which is exceptional.
No disciplinary action. In January 2016, you received your first commendation following your first deployment to Iraq as part of a NATO training mission for correcting an error in judgment of your immediate superior.
Your actions saved the lives of 10 soldiers, including yourself.
All details of this achievement have been classified as 'Secret. '"
Her voice was calm, almost detached. She continued her presentation, which she has clearly memorized.
"At seventeen, upon leaving your town, you cut off all contact with your parents.
Your current residence is a flat in Walthamstow, shared with Meredith Price, your best friend and an assistant director in the film industry.
You are also presently the early stages of a dating relationship with Charles D.
Roberts, employed in the private financial sector. "
"Alright, you've certainly done your homework, and you have my full attention now," the lieutenant said, steepling her fingers.
"Mm. I'd prefer to think you've been focused on me from the instant I asked for the simplest directions, wouldn't you agree?" retorted the woman quite rightly.
"Let me guess. It's obvious you're not from the army. No more from Scotland Yard. You don't fit their profile. So, I'd lean more toward the SIS."
She shrugged once. "Who says I'm not a foreigner?"
The lieutenant grinned, loving this chess game. "You would never have made contact with me in a place like this."
The mysterious woman smiled, clearly satisfied with what she saw and heard. "Good."
"Okay. So what now? What do you want from me?" The lieutenant kept her eyes fixed on the woman to make it clear she didn't intimidate her. And the woman did the same. She was testing her to see if the lieutenant would crack.
Then, after several long seconds, the woman looked away and rummaged in her coat. She pulled out a small, blank white card and handed it to the lieutenant.
51.4871934, -0.1245822
Door 6 - March 27 0900.
"Here's your opportunity for a real-world experience, Lieutenant Kerr," the woman stated as she got up. "It would be a terrible waste of your talents to be stuck in an office." She then turned and walked away, not bothering to look back.
***
March 27, 2017
London, England, United Kingdom
Lieutenant Kerr quickly learned that coincidences do not exist, or at least rarely.
Her mysterious summons coincided strangely with her day off at 10 Downing Street.
She had thought about not showing up, but her curiosity was too strong, and the little white card felt like a burning ember in her pocket.
Door 6 was actually "gate 6," an access point guarded by heavily armed agents. There's no way you could get to this door by pure accident.
As soon as the lieutenant got close, a heavy-armed security agent stared at her.
"Lieutenant Roxanne Kerr," she said simply.
He spoke into his radio, a low murmur, and then, after a brief silence, beckoned her to a utilitarian gray metal door, which yielded with the electronic hum of his magnetic card.
Lieutenant Roxanne Kerr did not know that this would be the last time anyone would see her alive for a very long time.
The lieutenant walked into a small, dim room lacking windows, furnished with chairs lined up against the walls like a waiting area.
Five minutes passed, and then a young woman, closely matching her age, walked into the room.
"Lieutenant Kerr, this way, please." The lieutenant's blood ran cold as she froze in place.
She recognized the jogger who had occupied her thoughts recently, smiling at her as she had previously.
The lieutenant followed her into an elevator, which took her either to the upper or lower floors—she couldn't tell which way it was going. The elevator opened onto a long corridor with several doors arranged in perfect symmetry.
They walked halfway down the corridor, where the young woman opened a door and let the lieutenant in before closing the door behind her.
The lieutenant kept her cool, despite feeling somewhat uneasy.
She tried to open the door, but of course, it was locked.
The room was minimalist. A table, two chairs, a mirrored window, and two cameras active at different angles.
Ten minutes or an hour passed—the room was designed to make you lose track of time—when a man in a gray suit entered with a file in his hand. He sat down on the only other vacant chair, opened the file, and read it silently. Then he broke the silence, his eyes still fixed on the file.
"Lieutenant Roxanne Elizabeth Kerr," he said in a dry voice.
"You have been selected for direct integration by transfer from the Ministry of Defence.
Effective 0900 this morning, your military file and civilian identity are now classified as 'Top Secret.
' For all official purposes, Lieutenant Roxanne Elizabeth Kerr is now assigned to a classified position and location for an indefinite period. "
He finally looked up and slid the second file toward her.
"Any disclosure to third parties is strictly prohibited and punishable by imprisonment in the event of violation," he added in a severe tone.
"A new civilian identity has been assigned to you.
Roxanne Megan Powell. Memorize it. You will answer nothing else.
Consider this new identity a clean slate from your past."
The lieutenant felt her stomach knot at the thought of a clean slate.
"The final decision is yours. You can reject the offer and return to your regular duties.
In that case, we will consider this meeting as if it never happened.
But if you accept, the effect is immediate.
Your Army benefits and rank won't be affected.
All necessary details are provided within the accompanying file, which must remain on the premises.
Your acceptance requires you to sign the marked section.
" Then, he pulled a pencil from his jacket, put it on the file, and walked out of the room without saying anything else.
The lieutenant didn't ask why they chose her.
In fact, she preferred not asking for anything, as silence could serve her better.
She opened the file and found a British passport, a CitizenCard, a driving licence with her photo, and a birth certificate, all with the name of Roxanne Megan Powell.
Nothing felt artificial—it was all very real.
She signed the document with Meredith on her mind. She considered the life shifted ahead, the unsaid words, and the loved ones who would be left behind. It was necessary to make Roxanne Powell a reality and, most importantly, to keep Meredith safe from Roxanne Powell.
Why was she doing this to herself?
Her thoughts were interrupted by the young woman walking back into the room. "Agent Powell, welcome to MI6. I am Agent Bonnie Abbott, your new partner." Bonnie sat in the chair ahead of Roxanne and stated, "Get comfy—you and I are going to get to know each other well."
"Not your real name, right?" Roxy asked.
A satisfied smile appeared on Bonnie's face. "As much as Powell is yours," she said with a wink.