A Debt Owed

Chapter 15

“Why are we out here?” I stared up at him expecting an answer.

None came; he was too busy peering through the slender gap the thin curtains left as the outside air filtered into the room. Kirill made sure we were off to the side of the sliding glass doors as he checked no one followed. Bourne was no where to be seen but Kirill didn’t buy his absence as proof he had left the building entirely.

Now he looked at me. “Are you sure you don’t know Bourne? If you are lying to me …”

He didn’t bother to finish the threat. He didn’t have to; I knew exactly what that chill in his voice meant. His face was in front of mine, close enough to feel his warm breath rushing over my skin and the anger it masked.

“No, of course not. I have only heard the rumours and stories surrounding him. We have never done business.”

Kirill still glared at me for what seemed an eternity. It was almost as if he was physically shifting through my mind attempting to find the truth.

“I swear I am not lying to you.” I couldn’t stand his silent scrutiny any longer.

His hand went to the side of my face and my heartbeat kicked up a notch. I had no idea what he was doing, for the first time since we met real fear was prowling around the edges. All that made him exceptional at his job was focussed on me. He was totally unreadable.

Laughter and approaching footsteps drew my attention towards the billowing curtains and away from the Russian. Before I could react his lips were against mine. The heated kisses totally taking me by surprise consuming me as he crushed his body to me and against the wall. The split in my dress giving him easy access as he ran his hand up my thigh and around to grab my ass grinding me more against him. I didn’t know what to think, barely able to breathe as he kept his mouth firmly locked onto mine. I couldn’t even stop the moans escaping from me as my eyes closed remembering how good his kisses felt.

The laughing couple took a step onto the balcony then changed their minds seeing our hot and heavy make out session. Apologising for intruding they made a hasty retreat back into the party. Satisfied we were alone again Kirill pulled away as abruptly as he started.

“Check no one else will disturb us.” He ordered as if the last few minutes had never happened.

I pushed myself away from the wall far enough to see inside while Kirill reached over the railing in the far corner pulling up the rope tied there finding the small gym bag on the end. The rain had stopped but it was still wet and chilly out there, I shivered with the thin material of my dress and my back exposed to the elements as I kept a look out not knowing much at all about the plan. The large ceramic pot and their plants decorating the corners of the balcony partly hid Kirill from view as he knelt emptying the bag’s contents. He pulled out two handguns, quickly attached their silencers and snapped in the ammo clips before sliding a gun in each jacket pocket followed by two spare clips.

“I need my coat.” He didn’t look away from me until I moved; guess he wanted me to fetch it for him.

In my absence he had untied the bag shoving the rope inside it then tossed it over the railing. Silently plummeting ten storeys it landed squarely on one of the large trees bordering the street below, tangling in its branches and leaves. Returning I held out the coat to him but he didn’t take it, instead he dropped to his knees in front of me. His hands on my bare upper thigh prevented me from stepping away. I glared at him wondering just what the Hell was he going to do down there. His fingers lightly brushed against the soft sensitive flesh as he fastened the small holster, complete with loaded revolver, to my leg taking his time flattening down the straps ensuring it was securely in place.

The feel of the cold steel pressing into the thin lace of my panties along with his deliberate lingering hands sent sparks rocketing through me, moistening my most inner core. Widening my stance I exposed more of my leg and gave easier access to wherever he needed to go. Perhaps I was indeed tempting the Devil. The wild kiss before and now this; I finally had to look away. It wasn’t fair that his touch could torture me this easily, I had to move or things were going to get extremely XXX-rated on this balcony.

His hand stopped moving and he smoothed my dress back into place that was when I looked back down at him finding those intensely green eyes fixated on mine. Coldness wasn’t what I saw in them, it was all heat, a furnace aimed solely at me. He wanted me and I revelled in the pleasure that he did. Everything in me was screaming for him to just put his mouth where his hands had been, so as to quench the growing need drenching us. Last night there wasn’t any place left on my body he didn’t explore with that mouth and tongue. Damn just put me out of my misery man.

“Madison.” His voice snapped me out of the reverie I was in; I couldn’t even remember closing my eyes as I remembered our wild love making. His lips a breath away from mine; all he had to do was tip his head a fraction forward as my lips parted anticipating the kiss I yearned for.

“That is the back up gun.” His words danced across my face as I felt the warmth of his body mingle with mine when our bodies touched as he shrugged out of his jacket and swung it over my shoulders wrapping it around me; prompting me to slide my arms into the sleeves.

Muscles pulled and strained under the material of his white shirt, stretching over his strong chest and those taut nipples. I bit back the urge to rip open that shirt and slowly lick those dusky buds. I mentally shook that image free, I had to get a grip here; this wasn’t a joy ride. He transferred the guns from the jacket pockets into the coat, of which I hadn’t even remembered him putting on me in one impossibly fluid motion. While buttoning up the jacket he silently pulled me in closer, cradling my face in his hands compelling me to look at him, “We need to get that package tonight, stay focussed Madison.”

Unexpectedly he leaned his forehead against mine emphasising the importance of what we were here for, before leading back into the party. One hand was on my arm and the other around my waist as we weaved through the crowd and up the stairs. He kept his movements cautious so as not to reveal that he was armed to the teeth.

“Leaving already?”

It was our new found friends, the tour guides. Kirill didn’t even flinch as he turned to answer, “Sofia just wanted to freshen up before saying goodnight to our host.”

“I’m afraid the jetlag is finally catching up to me, long flight from Rome this morning.” Luckily I remembered that Sofia was my alias tonight and quickly quashed my puzzled frown, the inquisitors eventually wished us a goodnight.

The further we travelled the upper level hallway the more the crowd thinned out, and the closer Kirill gravitated towards the wall as we went along. A designer suit clad security guard strolled past, on his scheduled round and shot us a second scrutinising glance. Kirill didn’t speak but whatever the silent exchange compelled the large set man to leave us and keep on his way. At this stage we had our backs right up against the wall; nah it didn’t look all that suspicious at all. Kirill glanced back just the once to check that we were indeed all alone.

Stopping he pulled me closer and into the frame of the locked door as his hand darted inside the jacket he placed on me what I now saw was an ID card out of the gold cigarette case and two pairs of gloves. The glove was on before he swiped the card and entered the code on the login panel. I held my breath if access was denied then that would probably trip the alarm and then a whole lot of fancied armed security guards were gonna be raining down on us. He snatched me to him sliding us through the door the instant the green lock light blinked on, re-entering the security code. Once inside he searched the room with the pen light for the desk and more importantly the personal lap-top sitting open on it.

“I have no idea where the package is or what it is, only that you have to get it off the computer.” Kirill whispered lighting a path for me to follow.

“I’ll give it a shot. You do have a name for me at least?” I pressed any key praying it didn’t trigger any security lock out; the screen beeped to life.

Kirill glanced over his shoulder at me, a short pause in searching the small office. “Trident was all I was told.”

The password prompt flashed up on screen and I started the usual process of hacking into the system; trying numerous combinations of personal details I managed to find out about our host on the NET, partial photographic memory. Well for the most part it was reliable. Fingers crossed. A few more hurried combos then BINGO I got in.

“I’m not finding anything substantial with that name, a couple of email references to Trident but nothing else.”

Kirill leaned over my shoulder, one hand braced against the table, scanning the files as I scrolled through them. “What about encrypted files or anything behind a firewall?”

“Nothing as far as I can tell but then again it could be anywhere or anything. The program could be cloaked or there’s embedded coding maybe even a super matrix. I can’t even tell how many security tiers exist on this thing. All that takes time, our host is one the world’s best computer programmers.”

“Funny and I thought I had one of the world’s best computer hackers working on it,” he was looking straight at me, “so tell me you’ve found something on there.”

Gee I hadn’t realised this was so important to him. I kept on searching. “It’s probably nothing but some fancy window dressing, I really need more time to be sure and a whole lot of luck.”

“We may have just run out of both, “ Kirill glanced down at his watch then the door, “The guards are on a twenty minute cycle and the lap-top would be too difficult to conceal if we take it…”

His voice trailed off, a clear sign he was getting agitated. “Can you copy the hard drive onto something?”

“It’ll take far too long. I quickly shut down the computer, running my hands along its sides and finding what as feeling for I ejected it. “I’ll just have to take the hard drive with us.”

I waved the flat box in front of him before sliding it safely into my jacket pocket. “Now let’s get out of here.”

The trace of a smile on his face vanished as footsteps gathered behind the door. Kirill ran the pen light around the room finding an adjacent closed door and shepherded me into what was thought to be a closet as the sound of the access panel beeping its acceptance of the code rang out. Once stepping across the darkened threshold I knew this was no closet. I took a couple of steps forward and had to stop myself from gasping out loud as I ran smack bang into something that didn’t feel like a wall. Kirill turned from listening at the door and shone the light in my direction; I almost let out a squeal at the face staring down at me. Reaching past me he grabbed the man around the neck, I had no where to escape to, the skin didn’t give way under the pressure of his finger tips.

“It’s not real, a mannequin.” His whisper was rough and adrenaline filled as he returned his attention back to what was happening beyond the door and this room.

I gingerly tapped a knuckle against the figure and was greeted by a hollow sound. I was spooked by a dummy dressed in a uniform, silly me. “Strange, this uniform doesn’t look military.”

Kirill momentarily looked back to scrutinise it. “Looks like Police; East German Secret Police.”

I took out my own light; curiosity was getting the better of me. “The name on the tag is the same as our host’s, but how could that be? He would have only been about ten years old when the wall fell.”

“It must belong to his father, a brother or some other family member then.” Kirill threw back at me.

I shone my torch around what could easily pass for a small walk-in filing cabinet; the shelves were over burdened with old books and files. Some looked like journals and official log sheets. I flipped open a nearby file; the pages and photographs inside fading and yellowing with age. The date stamped at the top was 1975; that explained why the type face was patchy in places; most likely they used an old mechanical typewriter. “They’re photos of a prison. Whit is all this, research papers?”

“Could be or he could just have a fascination with the pain and suffering of the convicted.”

I slowly closed the file, “Some things should stay buried in the past.”

The light in the main room went out and Kirill opened the door a crack checking if they had left. “They’ve gone.”

“Wait for me by the stairs. I won’t be long.” He raced out of the room. I hadn’t even noticed he had slid his hand into one of the jacket pockets I was wearing retrieving what was in there.

The hallway was still relatively deserted and I did as requested watching on as the party downstairs was continuing on in full swing; shortly after Kirill emerged from a usually locked room intent on a speedy exit. Seconds behind him a faint stream of smoke started to drift out from under the door which quickly intensified causing a thin layer of fog to settle on the floor. He almost rounded the corner where I was in clear sight, everything went pear-shaped. Being in such a rush he failed to notice the other man approaching also in a hurry. The collision was inevitable.

Bone and flesh; more to the point the heads crashed into each other.

“Son of a bitch!” Swearing loudly Kirill’s gaze locked onto the other man which caused the rage to instantly surface again. He then punched him squarely in the face bloodying his nose before retrieving his own gun from inside his jacket.

Stumbling backwards the other man barely reached for his weapon as Kirill slammed all his weight and forearm into the man’s neck, almost breaking the bone, crushing him up against the wall. “Bourne, you should have made sure I was dead back in Moscow.”

Jason Bourne the only mark to elude the Russian assassin and in all honesty most thought he had indeed killed Kirill in the car accident. Bourne managed to quickly, if so very painfully, suck in a few quick breaths before striking Kirill across the face with the butt of his own gun. Bending back the Russian’s hand in his lapse of concentration he wrenched the weapon from him sending it sliding across the floor; driving him backwards into the opposite wall ramming the barrel under his chin.

“On any other day I would finish the job right her and now but I’m not after you.” Bourne’s voice rose barely above a whisper remaining ice cold. “Tell me though, how did you survive?”

Kirill spat out the blood pooling in his mouth, “I was too stubborn to die that day.”

The sound of the safety clicking off and the added pressure of cold steel firmly pressed into his skull stopped Bourne from asking more. Instead both gladiators just glared at each other.

“Look I really don’t give a rat’s ass about what kinda-kinky you boys got going on but I strongly suggest you put the gun down and back away from him.”

Ignoring the request Bourne remained solely focussed on the Russian. “I won’t miss this time Comrade.”

Kirill fleetingly glanced at me somewhat surprised to see me there. I drove the gun harder into Bourne. “Well I sure as Hell won’t miss from here either. Now it’s your choice.”

The silence seemed to drag on forever before Bourne did as asked and stepped back with gun and hands slightly raised. This time he looked at me with those piercing blue eyes. “Like I said I’m not here for you.”

Then the deafening claxon of the smoke alarm echoed igniting a ripple of panic through the party guests. It was only then that I realised Kirill must have planted a smoke bomb to create a diversion, since there was no heat emanating from the room. The stand off lingered as the smoke thickened stinging my eyes and Bourne’s non-reaction troubled me. If he was going to lunge forward and wrestle the gun from me I really couldn’t fight him off in the get up I was wearing. Too late to see how it was going to play out as the regular security team rounded the corner marshalling everyone down stairs. Bourne instantly tucked his gun into the back waistband of his pants taking a further few steps away. I moved in front of Kirill discretely passing his weapon to him behind my back as the guard approached asking us to join the steady stream of guests rushing past. I felt Kirill’s arm flex and if it wasn’t for the timely arrival of the guards he would have had a second swipe at Bourne.

Now neither man wanted to walk ahead of the other, never turn your back on the enemy I guess. The decision was finally made as we were all shoved down the stairs. Sticking close to the edges I grabbed Kirill’s hand pushing through the crowd wanting to put as much distance between us, Bourne and security. Meanwhile many were trying to squeeze themselves in the elevators in the mass exodus of the penthouse. While in an attempt to control the chaos we, along with the others, were being shuffled into the emergency exit stairwell by security. Jason Bourne was still meters behind us and being swallowed up by the crowd every passing minute, none the less I kept overtaking more and more people just to make sure. As we descended each floor more people from the other apartments flooded the stairwell and I kept on pushing trough them. Moments later we were clear of them all and a full flight of stairs away from the main lobby; we had finally reached the ground floor. The din from the crowd following grew increasingly louder the longer we waited catching our breaths before opening the door.

This time it was Kirill who took me by the hand pulling me through the mass of tenants and guests spilling from the lobby out into the street. He wiped the blood trickling again from the cut on his lip; it purposely served as a reminder to check the whereabouts of the American responsible for the injury. It was far too difficult to tell if he had made it out of the stairwell, at least the people made a good buffer. If we could just get to the car then we would be home free.

To add to things the howling of sirens shattered the night as a tidal wave of emergency services vehicles sped towards the building. That was all we needed; authorities breathing down our necks. Damn we were almost there mere meters from freedom. The car we arrived in was within sight and still dutifully parked across the street when Kirill suddenly stopped and began reversing. Leaning against the car busy reading the newspaper and totally oblivious to the vehicle pulling up along side, the driver was startled by the men exiting. They exchanged words but I couldn’t make them out or it they actually knew each other. Kirill kept backing way counting on the swelling crowd to consume us.

“Great, now what.”

Kirill turned around and grabbed my arm quickening the pace; the other men now systematically searching the crowd advanced with definite purpose. “Run!”