Catwalk Criminal (21 page)

“She's coming round. You need to give her some space,” an unfamiliar voice said. “Move back a minute while I make her more comfortable.”

A woman leant over and plumped her pillow. She squinted and the woman came into focus. She had red hair and a blue uniform.

“There, that's better, isn't it?”

“I think so,” she said groggily.

She looked about the hospital ward. The last thing she remembered was Christine screaming. Had she fallen? What had happened?

A tall, raven-haired figure stepped out from behind the curtain.

“Bree!”

The model hovered by her bedside. “You're going to be OK. I called for an ambulance.”

“You did? Z-Zak.” She stumbled over the word. “What about…? I mean, he's…?”

“Zak suffered a deep head wound and is still unconscious, but the doctors say he'll pull through. You were in a far worse state. Your heart stopped. The paramedics had to bring you back twice in the ambulance. If they hadn't arrived when they did, you probably wouldn't have made it.”

Jessica tried to think through the pea-soup fog in her head. She'd almost died and Bree had saved her life. Probably Zak's too. Why would she do that if she were a double agent? It didn't make sense.

“The secret service agents were looking for Zak and Christine,” Bree continued. “I figured they must have gone to the river; it was the only logical getaway. I saw Christine attack you. I knocked her out with a stun dart in my watch and dragged you off the boat.”

“You did all that?” Jessica breathed. “For me?”

“Astonishing, I know, that someone who routinely freezes on assignments didn't screw up this time. I helped apprehend Christine and saved the lives of two government agents.”

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that.”

Bree shrugged. “I know you judge me.”

“You judge me,” she whispered back. “You think I only got into Westwood because of my godfather; that I haven't earned my place.”

“I did think that at first. It all seemed to come so easy to you.”

“That's not—”

“Let me finish. I was wrong about you, I admit that. I've seen you in action and can understand why you're here, which has nothing at all to do with Nathan. You're a natural at this, something else that got under my skin.”

“I don't get it. I irritate you now because I've proved I can actually do the job?”

Bree took a deep breath. “I'm not explaining this well. You were right backstage. I have been hiding a secret and I don't want to any more.”

“Go on.” She eased herself up the bed. Was Bree about to confess to betraying MI6 and attacking her at the Shard?

“I'm not cut out for Westwood. I know it. I hated the fact that you knew it too. I've pretended it's OK for a while, but it isn't. I loathe the lies and deception, and the truth is that I'm not very good at what I do. I panic in the field and people end up getting hurt – you, Natalia. You doubted me and you had reason to. I didn't betray you the way you seem to think I did. But I know I let you down. I'm sorry for how horrible I've been to you. I'm sorry for everything.”

Jessica stared at her, stunned. Of all the things she thought Bree would say, she hadn't expected
this.

“You see, I've started seeing someone,” Bree continued. “A normal person who doesn't have to tell lies every single day of his life. It's hard to believe there are people like that when you do a job like this, but it's true. His name is Chris and he works in a bookshop and he has absolutely no idea what I do. I think he's the one and I never want him to find out about Westwood.”

Jessica's mouth fell open. “That's why you didn't get him vetted?”

Bree bit her bottom lip.

“Zak told me. Rodarte ran checks on you. There was no record of vetting under his name at Westwood, yet you're looking at flats together.”

“I didn't see the point in getting him checked out when I never had any intention of telling him about my work. Meeting him has helped make up my mind. I can't live this double life.”

“It's tough for everyone,” Jessica murmured, thinking of Jamie. What wouldn't she give to see him now?

“I know that, but some people, like you, can cope better with that secret life than me.”

Really? Look how she'd screwed things up with her ex.

“I wanted you to be the first to hear that I'm quitting Westwood. I'm handing my notice in to Nathan today.”

“Seriously?”

“I've never been more serious about anything in my life. You're Westwood through and through. I'm not. I never have been. I had doubts right from the start.”

Jessica shook her head. “I'm not Westwood either. I'm still suspended and will probably stay that way thanks to Agent Hatfield.”

“Westwood will have to reinstate you after today. You saved the life of the president of the United States. He's going to pull through, thanks to you. You'll probably even get a medal or something.”

“I doubt it.” If she had a choice, she'd much prefer to get back with Jamie and have her suspension lifted at school.

“We'll see.” Bree stared at Jessica. “Despite
everything
, it's been kind of fun working with you.” She turned to walk away.

“I'm sorry.”

Bree stopped, her hand resting on the curtain. “Don't be. Good luck with everything. I mean it.”

“You too. And thank you for saving my life.”

Bree winked. “It was the least I could do.”

Jessica sank back into her pillow. She believed Bree; she wasn't a double agent, just someone who wasn't cut out to be a spy. She probably shouldn't have been recruited in the first place. But if Bree hadn't attacked her and stolen the USB device that night at the Shard, who had?

The doctor had discharged Jessica; she hadn't suffered any long-term effects. But that hadn't stopped Mattie from launching a campaign to drive her slowly mad by moving into their spare bedroom at home and treating Jessica like an invalid again. She'd been back from hospital for two days and even though she was still getting splitting headaches, she was seriously thinking about returning to school so she could escape from Mattie. Her head teacher had cleared her of any wrongdoing and lifted her suspension, as had Westwood.

Maybe she should beg Nathan to give her a foreign assignment? Saving the president's life had also protected Westwood, silencing Agent Hatfield's whispering campaign. She'd been quietly reassigned to another department and Jessica was
the
golden girl of the division. She reckoned she could ask for almost anything and she'd get it. Things were good; Christine had confessed to everything, including inciting Lee to commit his crimes. He was being released from prison in the US and allowed to return to the UK, to serve out a substantially reduced sentence on probation. Henry Murray had escaped prosecution in return for his evidence against Christine. But the dressmaker faced a lengthy jail sentence, as did Ossa Cosway, for participating in money laundering.

“I've got that,” Jessica called as the doorbell rang. She slowly climbed down the stairs. With any luck it'd be her guardian angel, Becky, arriving, armed with a plan to drag her off to Café Panorama for a hot chocolate and blueberry muffin.

She flung open the door. “Zak!”

He broke into a grin. “Hello. Can I come in?”

“Of course.” They hadn't caught up properly; he'd been discharged from hospital before her. She nodded at the bandage on his forehead. “I see you're rocking the ‘injured member of a boy band' look.”

“Thanks. You don't look so bad yourself. Or aren't I allowed to say that?”

She smiled. “You've never asked my permission to say whatever you like, so why change now?”

“Touché.”

“Hi, Zak.” Mattie peered over the banister. “It's lovely to see you again. Is Jessica going to ask you if you want a coffee or should I come down and make it?”

Jessica scowled up at Mattie, willing her to vanish. She had an uncanny ability of appearing at
the
most awkward times.

“It's fine, thanks. I'm not staying. My taxi's waiting outside. I've got a flight to catch back to the States.”

“I'm sorry to hear that, Zak,” Mattie replied. “But come back and visit us soon. Bon voyage.”

Jessica waited until she heard the door of the spare room close. “You're going back?”

“Rodarte's got another assignment lined up for me. Plus I've got exams to cram for and my family's expecting me back from my art history trip.”

“That's how you'd describe this last week?” she said, laughing.

“I'm not sure how I'd define it, but meeting
you
has certainly been an experience.”

Jessica blushed. “We made a good team. In the end, anyway.”

“We did, didn't we?” Zak's green eyes bored into hers. He thrust his hand into his pocket and pulled out a small black box. “This is for you.”

“You're not proposing, are you?” she joked.

“Don't worry. You're not
that
lucky.”

Rolling her eyes, she opened the box and pulled out a silver compact.

“It's to replace yours,” Zak said. “It's far better than MI6 technology. This has Rodarte's added functions. It can run facial recognition checks as well as the usual paralysing powder, X-ray vision and photographic functions.”

“Thanks. That's really thoughtful.”

She flicked open the lid.

“I engraved it for you with your favourite quotation.”

Her eyes widened as she stared at the words.
I am no bird; and no net ensnares me; I am a free human being with an independent will.

“How did you know about this?” Her voice faltered. “Who told you?”

Zak frowned. “I remember you said you liked
Jane Eyre
. I can't remember when, but I guess it stuck with me. The quotation reminds me of you; how independent and free-spirited you are. Jessica, I—”

He reached out to embrace her, but she stepped back. “I never told you anything about this.”

“I'm sorry. Don't you like it?” He frowned. “I guess I should have stuck with something safe like flowers. Anyway, I should go. The taxi's on meter. Goodbye, Jessica.” He walked back towards the door.

Jessica darted forward and caught his arm. “Look at me, Zak.”

He glanced away for a few seconds before meeting her gaze.

“It was you.” Her hand dropped limply to her side.

“What are you talking about?”

“It was you that night at the Shard. You knocked me out with my own compact. That's the only way you could have known about the quotation. You read the engraving when I was unconscious.”

He shook his head vigorously. “You're wrong. Dead wrong.”

“Ohmigod.” Her hand flew to her mouth. “You attacked me and stole the USB device. Then you came round to my house to check on me. You wanted to see if I could remember anything about my attacker from that night; if I could identify you. You deliberately made me suspicious of Bree.”

“Jessica.” Tears glistened in his eyes. “You don't understand.”

“You're right, I don't understand.” Her voice wobbled. “You said I was amazing and you pretended to like me. Everything we've been through together this week has been a lie. All of it.”

“That's not true.” Zak gripped her arms tightly. “I wasn't lying when I said I thought you were amazing. You are. I'm not lying when I tell you that I'm falling for you, that I couldn't take my eyes off you the first time I saw you. I thought Jamie was the luckiest guy alive to be your boyfriend.”

Jessica shrank away. “I have no idea who you are.”

“I'm the same as I always was.”

“A big-headed arrogant liar? I should have stuck with my gut instinct, but you reeled me in. I believed you.” She took a breath. “There's no point denying it. I know it was you. At least have the decency to admit it.”

He paused. “You're right. I owe you that.”

Jessica felt her knees weaken. “Why?”

He brushed the tears from his eyes and jutted his chin out. “Because it was an order. And we follow orders, remember? That's what we do. The CIA had heard that the MoD had a major problem – its employee Drew Hopkins was selling the driverless truck blueprint to the Chinese. We had to stop that. We intercepted internal correspondence at MI6 and discovered when the meet was happening, how Westwood planned to intercept the buyer and retrieve the USB device at the Shard fashion show.”

“You mean you hacked into MI6?”

“Governments do that all the time. You must know that.”

“You're no better than Christine and her army of teenage hackers,” she spat out. “I don't get it. Why were you so anxious to intercept the meet? Didn't you think Westwood could stop the deal from going ahead? Rodarte had to fly in and save the day, taking all the glory, because you didn't think we were up to the job?”

Zak didn't answer.

“It's not that, is it? You came to London to
steal
the blueprint. That was your intention all along.”

He nodded slowly. “You know as well as I do how valuable a driverless truck will be to a country in the future. It could change the face of modern warfare; an army would no longer have to invade a city. The driverless trucks or tanks would do it for them. Thousands of soldiers' lives would be saved. The United States is dangerously far behind the Chinese when it comes to this kind of technology. We couldn't afford for that situation to continue. We have to catch up.”

Jessica could hardly process what he was saying. “At any price? It didn't matter who got in the way or who you hurt as long as the US government got what it wanted?”

“I'm sorry you got hurt, I really am. I wanted to come clean and tell you what had happened. I tried to tell you the night of the warehouse blaze, but you wouldn't let me.”

“You don't know the meaning of the word sorry. I trusted you, Zak.”

“I know you did,” he said softly. “This isn't personal. Yes, I fancied you when we first met, but we're spies first and everything else comes after that. You'd do the same if Nathan gave the order.”

She shook her head vigorously. “I'm not like you. My family and friends come first. I'm a spy second. This is what I do. It's not who I am.”

“Then you won't get very far with Westwood. I did what I had to for my country so I could get that USB device. This was just another job.”

“Was it? You claimed to like me and knew I was a Westwood agent, yet you still attacked me.”

“I didn't expect to encounter
you
at the top of the Shard.” His voice wavered. “You were one of the most junior operatives on the team. It should have been Bree or Sasha going after Drew, not you. I took your compact because it was the closest to hand in the dressing room, but I never wanted it to be you.”

“So that made it OK to attack Bree or Sasha? You're unbelievable.”

“I'm just saying they were the most experienced operatives, according to the files. Except they both messed up. They didn't have the guts to go after Drew, but you did. I couldn't have anticipated that. I underestimated you.”

“Ditto. You're a world-class jerk. I hate you.”

“No, you don't. Deep down, you like me back and that scares you. It frightens you that I know you better than Jamie.”

“No way. You're wrong.”

Zak tried to take her hand, but she snatched it away.

“Don't you see? Jamie will never be right for you. He doesn't understand you, because he can't. He doesn't know who you really are. Only another spy can understand what it's like, the things you have to do. I get all of that. You know I do.”

“Jamie understands me far better than you. He's decent, really decent.” She let out a sob. “And it's ruined, all because of you. You came along and destroyed us.”

“No. The moment you signed the Official Secrets Act, your relationship with Jamie was doomed. Deep down, I think you knew that.”

“How could I?”

“Because you made a choice. You can't have relationships outside this job. You chose joining Westwood and discovering what happened to your mum over your boyfriend. Now you have to deal with the consequences. That's on you, not me.”

“Is it really?”

“I get that you're angry, but we can work this through. You said we made a good team and we still can.”

“Never. Not in a million years.”

“We're good together. You know that. I think you have feelings for me too; you just don't want to admit it. Call me when you've had time to process all this; when you've calmed down.”

“Get out.”

Zak paused at the door. “Think about it, Jessica. Do that for me.”

“I don't need time to think. I never want to see you again.”

She waited for him to walk out and slammed the door.