Читать книгу Albedo Castle - - Страница 3

2. Agent

Оглавление

[Russia, Moscow, Sheremetyevo International Airport]

They rounded the Sheremetyevo Airport complex, stopped at the open parking lot next to Terminal A. The evening sky was gray and dull, the sun, veiled with clouds, hadn’t set yet, but was doing little good. Richard left the car, Alexandra slipped out after him, they stopped in front of the trunk.

“Wait.”

Before Richard could touch the handle of the trunk, Alexandra took his hand and stepped closer, put her hands on Richard’s shoulders. He was like a hot iron to a touch, he tried to seem lively, but for the entire one and a half hour drive the unnatural blush on his pale, stubbled cheeks has been betraying him.

She pulled him closer by the neck, put her cool fingers onto his cheekbones, he leaned down and closed his eyes. The kiss was cautious at first, then he involuntarily opened his mouth, holding her by the head, drinking her in greedily, turning her back towards the trunk, pushing in.

There wasn’t enough air, his lips were boiling, Richard came to his senses and let her go, his breathing heavy.

Alexandra unzipped his leather jacket with one motion, under it, on the left side of his stomach, a dark bloody stain spread across the jumper.

“You idiot,” she growled. “You thought I wouldn’t figure it out?”

She smelled the fresh wound while still at home – and watched him all along the drive. He didn’t let her take the wheel.

Richard released a breath through his nose, hastily tucking the jacket’s flaps. He didn’t answer.

“Are you going to board the plane like this?”

“What choice do I have?”

“You need a doctor.”

“It’s a scratch.”

“I hope that this scratch already got cleaned and stitched, and you’re not going to pass out in the next few minutes.”

“There’ll be a doctor on the plane,” replied Richard after a pause, and added, “I’m not lying.”

He had already told her that they were expected at the business aviation center at the airport, for the private flight to Tokyo, and that they would then go to a hotel and stay there indefinitely. Richard decided to take Alexandra with him and continue the current mission with the Bulls, travelling in such a way that she would always be close by – because it was unsafe to leave her in Moscow. It took effort for him to convince the Circus to help him – by appealing to the risk of the Poets operation failing.

He didn’t give the chiefs the details – just informed them that the identity of the actor Richard North that was dating the Russian writer Stella Fracta was compromised, and that’s why it was better for Alexandra to be under his protection.

Though, when they were together, it was him who felt protected by her …

Alexandra walked demonstratively ahead, rolling her suitcase, clutching the red notebook under her arm as they crossed the parking lot and moved towards the terminal building, though she was still unable to take the heavy bag from him. Richard was following her and looking around – afraid that his guard was failing him.

His head was starting to spin, a mucky nausea was crawling up his throat.

They were greeted at the check-in counter and informed that the plane is ready for takeoff and waiting for them. Soon they were going up to the second floor – to the restaurant with a panoramic view of the runway – to meet Richard’s people, among who, as he claimed, was a doctor. There were no visitors at the restaurant save for two guests at one of the tables, with unfinished and, undoubtedly, not their first cups of coffee. The young dark-haired man jumped up and squinted short-sightedly when he saw the approaching figures, his companion remained seated in the armchair, leaning on the table tiredly – he was Richard’s age, but nearly all his hair had gone gray.

“Richard!” the dark-haired man called out in English. “You said you’re going to pick up equipment!”

“I did,” Richard replied loudly.

The gray-haired man turned his head, he stood, too.

“That’s not equipment.”

The dark-haired one pointed at Alexandra, Alexandra curved her lips into an ironic smile.

“Agent Alexandra, agent Dario, agent Adam,” Richard introduced.

“Why couldn’t you have said that you’re going to bring company?”

“Don’t ask unnecessary questions, Dario,” Richard cut off the dark-haired one. “We can go.”

“We’ve met before,” Dario went on, not taking his eyes off Alexandra, reaching out, “I just don’t remember where and when.”

“That’s fine. It was most likely at the Circus.”

Alexandra shook hands with Dario and Adam.

“You said there’s a doctor here.”

“I’m the doctor,” Adam spoke.

“He’s playing alive,” Alexandra motioned at Richard with her chin. “What’s wrong with him?”

“He’s a madman,” said the doctor, not smiling. “I’ll examine him when we’re on the plane.”

“You can talk later,” Richard grumbled, turning on his heels. “Let’s go.”

“I know I’ve seen you somewhere,” Dario wouldn’t let it go.

“Take the bags away from Richard.”

“Don’t listen to her.”

“Richard, drop the bags.”

“Speaking as the doctor, don’t listen to Richard.”

“Doctor, you’re on my team.”

“Doctor, it’s your first time seeing her.”

“I remember!”

Dario abruptly froze in the passageway to the escalator leading down, Alexandra nearly bumped into him with her suitcase. It took time for Richard to look back, Adam, who was walking behind, slowed his step, observing them with wary curiosity.

“Cats don’t drink wine3!” Dario beamed. “You’re a writer, you’re the author of my favorite books!”

Alexandra opened her mouth in astonishment, Dario went on.

“Commissioner – Chief Inspector – Clément is my favorite detective!4 He got a promotion,” he explained to the clueless Adam and Richard as if they were supposed to know who Commissioner Clément was, “when he caught D’Angelo.”

Richard rolled his eyes, Adam blinked in confusion.

“For God’s sake, Dario, not you too!” Richard hissed, pointing towards the platform where the airport escort was waiting for them. “You’ll talk later.”

“Incredible!” Dario exclaimed, ignoring his panting partner. “The author, the creator of my hero-detective, is my colleague! My hero-agent Richard is my colleague!”

“Richard is your hero?”

“He caught the mole last year – of course he is!”

“How long have you been working, Dario?” Alexandra asked, bewildered. “Your reactions are so genuine.”

Dario hesitated.

“A year. Less. Since March.”

“The Bulls are your first mission?”

“Yeah.”

“And you have time to read books?”

“Of course, I love reading, I always dreamed of becoming a detective – like the young Dupin, the noir Marlowe, the eccentric Wolfe … But I ended up a spy, like Smiley.”

“Not bad either.”

“Yeah.”

When Richard first saw Dario Fisher and learned that he’s going to be his partner at the mission with the Bulls, he thought that Dario was a complete idiot. Fisher was full of idealistic urges, he blushed and paled easily, people like him are an open book. What kind of spy is that? Richard bristled. He’s incapable of hiding his emotions, he’ll give himself away in an instant!

Later he understood that he was wrong. When necessary, Dario controlled himself and executed instructions with great precision, he had yet to let Richard down even once – and trusted him unconditionally, regardless of what Richard said: Dario believed in him as a mentor even more than Richard believed in himself.

Dario’s initiative was the downside. It was him who brought doctor Adam Bradshaw along – who now, obedient and dejected, was following them to the boarding ramp, quietly listening to Dario and Alexandra’s chatter.

Richard couldn’t think of anything better than to say that Alexandra was an agent of the Circus. Dario was not aware of the Poets operation, he was only briefed on his own mission …

As soon as they were in the cabin, having crossed a hundred yards of the open platform of the airside, Richard sunk into the seat, stretching his long legs out under the table. He felt sick.

Adam, meanwhile, went to the restroom to wash his hands.

Alexandra helped Richard out of his jacket, Dario took the single seat near the opposite wall, he was looking curiously at the red notebook that Alexandra had thrown on the table. To Richard’s relief, he was quiet and then looked out of the window to watch the airport equipment moving around in the distance.

When the steward arrived to announce the preparations for takeoff and inquire about meal preferences, Richard, now shirtless, was grimacing in pain, the doctor didn’t even turn – he was busy treating the wound on Richard’s left hypochondrium, it was small in diameter, but deep.

The stitches hadn’t loosened, but there was excessive bleeding and inflammation around the orifice.

“Caesar salad, cherry juice,” Alexandra told the steward. “Adam, can he have chocolate ice cream?”

Richard laughed quietly, Adam nodded.

“And chocolate ice cream. Adam, have you been working for the Circus long?”

The doctor looked up at Alexandra, his face, with a barely visible web of mimic lines around the eyes, was tan and flushed, as if he had recently returned from vacation. He gave a strange, sad smile.

“I don’t work for the Circus, actually. I was abducted at Singapore airport and forced onto this plane to Moscow. And then I was held in the local airport – so I would help the injured Richard during your flight.”

Alexandra stared at Adam, he was dead serious. Tense silence hung.

“You took the Hippocratic Oath, you know!” Dario blurted out.

“To get onto a private MI6 plane at gunpoint,” Adam smirked, fixing the dressing in place with steady movements.

“You’re serving a noble cause!”

“For the British government!”

“For the entire world!”

“But I’ll get the noose or the firing squad for espionage!”

“Come on, not the noose!”

“What do you think they do to American citizens who work with foreign spies?”

“You’re unemployed anyway!”

“But I was planning to come back!”

“It was you who said that you can’t go back to the Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore!”

“That doesn’t mean—”

“Be quiet.”

Richard closed his eyes tiredly, their argument was splitting his head. Alexandra covered him with a blanket, he was starting to shiver, the goddamn wound wasn’t mortal – but very unpleasant.

They were taking off – and he realized that he really wants to just drift off to sleep. As much as he missed chocolate ice cream, rest was the priority.

He has eleven hours to get back in shape until Tokyo – because he had no idea what would happen next.

3

‘Cats Don’t Drink Wine’ is a novel by Stella Fracta.

4

Dario Fisher (aka Dario Pesce) and Commissioner Clément are the main characters of the novel ‘Cats Don’t Drink Wine’ (Stella Fracta), about an Italian vineyard in Barolo and the legend of a great alchemist, and the philosophical novel ‘Storyteller from Whitechapel’ (Stella Fracta), about a police investigation using hermeneutics in London.

Albedo Castle

Подняться наверх