Chapter One
Tick, tick, tick, tick…
My eyes darted back and forth, watching the row of suspended ball bearings on my desk as they swung back and forth, clacking in a way that was somehow both soothing and aggravating. A knock at the door roused me from my trance.
“I hope I’m not interrupting?”
“Sure, but I’ve always got time for you,” I purred. “What’s up?”
I barely resisted a grin at the way he wrinkled his nose in displeasure. God, it was fun to get under his skin – and he made it so easy. A file slapped down on my desk, and I sat forward with a groan to flick through it.
“What is this?” I asked, licking my finger as I turned the pages. As with all of Agent Dixon’s work, it was meticulously laid out, neat as a pin, with an extensive list of contents. I skimmed over each page, reading the words but not really absorbing the information.
“It’s the kingpin dossier you asked for,” he replied stiffly, crossing his arms over his chest.
I tried not to notice how his shirt pulled tight over his biceps beneath.
“Oh, yeah, of course,” I muttered, eyes returning to the pages before me. “Good work. This looks… thorough.”
‘Kingpin’ was the code name we were using for our latest intelligence project.
For over three years now, MI6 had been digging for information on a man by the name of Ian Keller – the aforementioned kingpin.
You generally didn’t become a person of interest within MI6 unless you were bad news, and Ian Keller was about as bad as they came.
Hailing from London, he’d been in and out of youth correctional facilities and prisons his entire life.
Unfortunately, the system had failed to rehabilitate him, instead just providing him with more connections and networking opportunities every time he was inside.
Though Keller had started out as your garden variety thug, he was quick and clever.
With the help of close quarters in prison, he had quickly developed one of the biggest organised crime rings in the world.
Ian Keller controlled the majority of the drug and illegal weapon market within the UK, as well as an up-and-coming human trafficking side gig.
He was branching out and whilst he still mostly operated out of Europe, we had heard rumblings of his plans to expand the business.
Naturally, we couldn’t allow that to happen.
The kingpin was a slippery customer. Every time we thought we had him, he seemed to vanish into a bolt hole, only to pop up again a month or two later.
Intelligence had been working night and day, trying to track him down and gather concrete evidence that would assist us in neutralising the very real threat he had become.
“Any developments on his location?” I asked Agent Dixon, still flipping through the file.
“Not as yet, but if you skip to page two-two-seven—”
“Two-hundred and twenty-seven?!” I gaped at him. “Just how long is this thing…”
Agent Dixon rolled his eyes at me, striding across the room to lean in over me. As he flicked through the dossier, I suddenly lost interest in the information within, instead completely preoccupied with how good he smelt up close.
“Here,” he said, easing back. “There have been rumours about a meeting in Colombia. We think he’s sizing up a new cocaine supplier, and if the intelligence is correct, it’ll be one for the record books.”
“Uh-huh, tell me, what aftershave are you wearing because—” At the disapproving frown that earnt me, I grinned. “You’re right, not the time nor the place. Maybe you can tell me over drinks tonight?”
I adored how my brazen approach always served to wrong-foot the other agent.
Dixon had come from a military background just like me and I knew from his personnel files that he had seen his fair share of shit – war-torn countries, death, suffering – and yet a woman making her interest known was seemingly too much for him to take.
“I, uh, what? No, we— Just read the damn page!” he spluttered.
“Alright, alright,” I muttered, obediently returning my attention to the dossier. “I’m just saying this information might be easier to take in after a glass of wine, that’s all.”
There was a moment of tense silence as I scanned my eyes over the document, Agent Dixon shifting foot to foot nervously at my back.
Colombia, the cocaine capital of the world.
It made sense that the kingpin would be heading there in his bid for expansion.
More customers meant he needed to up his supply, and where better to go than straight to the source?
“Alright, good work,” I said, closing the file up. “We should send this up top and get clearance to investigate.”
I handed the dossier back to Agent Dixon. Contrary to what I had expected, he didn’t immediately rush from my office. He loitered, pretending to flick through the pages. I sat back in my chair, watching him for a moment.
“Is there something else, Dixon?”
His blue eyes jumped up to meet mine for a second before he hastily looked away. With a quick glance over his shoulder, he closed my office door, and a shiver ran down my spine.
“Hey, does this mean you’ve changed your mind about those drinks after work?” I asked, grin widening at the exasperated scowl Agent Dixon cast me in response.
“No, but I wondered if I could perhaps talk to you about something else that has been on my radar for some time now,” he muttered.
I waved him on with my hand. “Sure, shoot.”
“Well, I’ve been going back through some of the cold case files, you know, ‘the ones that got away’, as it were.” When I nodded, he continued. “I’ve noticed some strange patterns emerging.”
“Oh?” This time, it was me who was tense, my voice coming out more like a croak as a slither of cold dread crept over me. Where was Dixon going with this?
“I’ve been doing a little investigation of my own.
I’ve only gone back over the last few years so far because honestly, there’s a mountain of information to sift through, but…
” He trailed off before sucking in a breath.
“I don’t think we lost contact with these targets.
I think someone or some sort of shadow organisation assassinated them before we got the chance. ”
I froze in my seat, fighting to keep my composure. “That sounds ridiculous, Dixon. Have you got any proof?”
“No, but the timelines—”
“Look, I get it, you’re a rookie and you want to make a name for yourself,” I sighed. “But I don’t think chasing down some mysterious bogey man is the way to go.”
Agent Dixon’s brows furrowed into a scowl, but he didn’t argue.
“Y’know, the people we investigate are really shitty.
Sometimes shitty people make enemies in the wrong places and—” I ran my finger over my neck.
“Someone just as shitty as them takes the trash out before we get a chance. MI6 is full of unresolved mysteries, Dixon. You had better get used to that. It’s a rarity that things get tied up in a pretty, neat little bow at the end. ”
“Right. Sure. Got it,” he replied, shoulders stiff.
“Ah, don’t beat yourself up too much. We’ve all been there, believe me. Give it a few more years and you’ll understand.” I smiled. “Good work with the kingpin dossier though. I’m impressed. Send it on up the chain, you’ve got my sign off.”
Dixon didn’t speak, clearly still smarting over my rejection of his ideas, just nodded and let himself out of my office. I watched the shape of him, blurred by privacy glass, pass by before sagging into my chair with a heavy sigh.
That was close. Too close. I needed to make sure to scorch the earth around the investigation Agent Dixon had started.
I couldn’t have anyone following that particular train of thought.
It was too risky, even if it was exceedingly unlikely to ever come to any solid conclusion.
I made a mental note to increase Agent Dixon’s workload.
If he was stressed and running around chasing his tail, he wouldn’t have time to be digging up old case files.
One thing was for sure: I would be needing a little help to disappear those tracks Dixon had discovered, and I had just the man in mind for the job.
“Honey, I’m home!” I crooned as I let myself into my apartment.
I kicked off my heels and dumped a stack of files down on the sideboard before padding along the hallway towards the living room.
Pots and pans clanged in the kitchen and I smiled.
It looked like dinner wouldn’t be long and it was a good job because I was starving.
“Hey,” I called, pausing by the door to lean against the frame.
Freddie, my boyfriend, glanced up from a steaming pot. “Oh, hey. I didn’t hear you come in.”
I joined him beside the stove, tiptoeing to press a kiss to his cheek. “That smells good.”
“How was your day?” My expression must have given me away as Freddie’s brows furrowed. “That good, huh?”
“Just a little wrinkle that needs ironing out, that’s all. I’ll tell you about it later. How was your day?”
I helped myself to a glass of wine whilst Freddie rambled on about a load of technical jargon I couldn’t even begin to understand.
I rarely knew what he was talking about whenever he told me about his workday, but I was always keen to smile and nod.
Freddie ran his own cyber security business. That was how we’d met… Sort of.
“Alright, that’s just got to simmer a while.” Freddie turned his attention to me, throwing the tea towel from his shoulder onto the countertop. “Come on, let’s sit and you can tell me about what’s going on.”
I let Freddie lead me out into the living room, his hands pushing down on my shoulders. I sank into the sofa with a groan and whilst I sipped my wine, Freddie took a seat beside me and automatically dragged my legs up onto his lap before beginning to rub my feet.
After a sea of short flings and one-night stands in my youth, Freddie had been the very first man I’d ever cared to keep around for any length of time, and it was in moments like these that I remembered why I had chosen him. I groaned, wriggling my toes as he kneaded my flesh.