Broken | Lucas North - Spooks/MI5 Story [Featured]

Chapter 9

“There’s nothing like dying that can snap you out of depression, is there?”

Alexa blinked, wondering if she had passed out and was dreaming.  Adam Carter was straddling her, his forearm against her neck instead of Mikhael’s, taunting her about the things Mikhael had done to her in Moscow.  Adam used to warn her of the demons that always returned to haunt them.  And now the demon was back. 

But as she looked up again, Alexa saw that it wasn't Adam who was back.  It was Mikhael, and he was trying to kill her. 

Suddenly Alexa was kicking, raw power shooting from her hip, and she slammed her knee against Mikhael’s groin.  As he released his hold over her mouth and nose, Alexa was screaming obscenities at him, the fury exploding from every pore of her body as she felt him get off her, laying on his side in a fetal position, clutching his groin in agony.

Alexa could see the gun at the top of her closet shelf, but she knew it was useless now without the bullets.  She’d removed them a few days earlier, in preparation for Liam’s weekend visit.  The only thing she could do now was make a run for it.  She sprang up from the floor, the pain in her knee where it had slammed against the stair step exploding and she gasped as her vision filled with stars with every step.

She limped hurriedly towards the stairs, aware that Mikhael had gotten up and was running towards her.  He caught her just as she made it halfway down, tackling her and together they rolled down the stairs, a portion of the bannister breaking as Mikhael’s body slammed against it.  Blood was pouring from her nose where Alexa had hit her face against something hard, and yet more coming from Mikhael, their blood staining the pale carpeted stairs.

Alexa grabbed a loose balustrade that had clattered towards her and swung it at Mikhael.  He yelled in anger as it hit his forearm, cutting a deep gash in his skin.  Before Alexa could bring her arms back to hit him again, Mikhael struck her with his other hand, the blow sending Alexa across the landing and Alexa’s head slammed against the wall, almost knocking her out. 

Somewhere in the distance, she could hear her phone ringing.

Alexa pulled herself up, struggling to regain control of her body, her goal in sight.  The door. It was so close, and it was wide open. Beyond it, she saw a small crowd of people gather outside, wondering why no one was coming in to help her. 

As she got up, she teetered and hit the wall with her shoulder as she fought to keep her balance.  Her hand became limp, the balustrade falling from her grip.  Her head was throbbing from pain, her ears ringing.  Or was that just the phone ringing constantly? 

The shattered door was so close now.  Alexa could touch it and she tried to reach for it, but the her world was spinning uncontrollably, her vision fading fast.  Behind her, Mikhael was calling her a damn minx, a bitch, and other names she could only guess.  She felt him pull her by her hair, yanking her backwards and Alexa fell to her knees. 

Her body felt like a rag doll now, every ounce of energy dissipating from her muscles.  She had fought a good fight, but she was losing fast.  Her own body had given up on her.

The phone was still ringing.  As she felt her body being whipped around to face Mikhael, she saw his face, half of it melted into a grotesque mask.  Her eyes followed the arc of his arm as he raised it up to hit her again.  Though the rage inside her was still there, it was dying now, her body unable to keep up with the desperate demands of her body to get up and run.  Blood poured from her nose now, as if a faucet had been left running, drenching the floor beneath her and Alexa’s knee slipped.  She found herself sitting on the floor now, held up only by Mikhael’s hand around her upper arm.

Mikhael watched her, a look of smug satisfaction written on his face.  The girl had no more fight left in her though he admired her for daring to fight him.  Nine years had taught her a few things, he thought.

Alexa brought an arm up to defend herself against Mikhael’s approaching fist but it no longer mattered.  The darkness that had tempted her earlier, urging her to give in to the sweet darkness had returned, and Alexa could feel the shadow of her fears creeping up her body, enveloping her in a coldness that permeated all the way to her bones.

Alexa’s mind did not wait for Mikhael’s hand to hit her.  She felt herself leave, her essence flowing out of her body and rising above the shell of her body as she watched it collapse to the ground, a pool of blood beneath her.

There was no fight left in her now.  Nothing at all.

Without waiting for her body to go limp in his arms, Mikhael slung her over his shoulder and stooped up to pick up the ringing phone.  A small crowd had gathered outside, their phones to their ears as they called the police.  Mikhael pocketed the phone and drew out his gun, pointing it at the crowd and they parted, making room for him as he unlocked the trunk of the car and tossed Alexa's body into it.

A man lunged forward, yelling for Mikhael to stop, but before he could reach the Russian, Mikhael drew his gun and fired two shots.  The man crumpled to the ground as everyone spread out, screaming.

Mikhael got into the car and screeched away, not caring who saw him.  What mattered to him the most was with him now.  It was his insurance that the spy would come to him.  As Mikhael maneuvered his way through the side streets of London, he knew that the other half of the package was also on its way to him, just as Arkady had planned.

It was perfection. 

And it was long overdue.

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