Agent Rogue

Chapter 15

Amber Knight

The ferry docked in the harbour at Eastbourne, a two hour's drive from Central London. We walked in painful silence to the nearest car rental service, arms crossed to shield ourselves from the salted wild winds of the southern coast. Despite the biting cold, the town was packed with desperate holidaymakers wandering around the sweet-scented pier clutching their ice creams, trying to hide their grimaces at the intense gusts that froze you to the core, only getting stronger as they neared the biscuit-brown beach.

            We hired the car with no problems and promised to bring it back by tomorrow; a job for another agent, not me.

            Without a word to each other, we set off for London.

            Traffic was horrendous, stretching the journey by at least another hour after only thirty miles. The second I spotted a turn-off, I took it, opting for the longer journey through the backroads that wound between wet emerald hills and clusters of yellow common gorse that lined the jagged tarmac. I took one or two wrong turns on those roads, spotting Barnes's mouth curling into a smile from the corner of my eye but his mouth stayed shut, opening once to comment before he changed his mind.

            Between the frustrations of driving, I had to fight to keep my eyes on the road, finding them drifting towards Barnes, alert to every subtle movement from him changing his leg position to scratching his head, chestnut hair falling out of place. Occasionally our eyes met for a brief moment and I would snap the stare away, acting as if my stomach didn't flip every time his brown eyes looked my way.

            I clenched my hands around the wheel then geared up to fifth in one vicious tug.

            Handing him over to Alistair – never to be seen again – was much harder than I imagined.

***

London's air was stale and unwelcoming when we arrived, polluted with car fumes and algae that crawled up the side of the Thames. None of what I remembered as home – the ground coffee, the smell of rain wearing away the tarmac – was there. Only a choking stench and a shroud of dark, dusty pink rainclouds ready to combust hanging over the agency's headquarters.

            Barnes and I stood side by side for a moment on the white pavemented steps, apprehensive as we stared at the green-glassed building that gleamed dull yellow in the light of the setting sun that sieved through the clouds.

            Those doors were supposed to call me home. I was desperate to finish this mission the second I began it, but now something was different.

            Scotty wasn't with me. Home wasn't there. It was like arriving at your front door after a long journey, seeing the hinges had been broken and the wood torn; you thought you wanted to return, but now you fear what is inside.

            I took a breath. Home was there. It was within my work: my entire life. I had lived without Scotty for years, had trained without him and joined the agency as an individual. I could do this alone.

            "Home sweet home," mumbled Barnes, looking to see what my reaction would be.
"Yeah," I said just as quietly. "Home."

            I reached for the aluminium hands on the great glass doors and led Barnes inside.

            Once in, I paused at the second set of doors, looking at the camera that allowed us access. If I had my ID, I would have been able to simply scan it and enter, but I had lost it with my clothes back at the hospital.