The blood had dried on his lips, painfully sealing them together. With an effort that tore the gash apart once more, he forced his tongue through to lick his lips. The coppery taste of blood filled his parched mouth.
With a click, an elegant pair of leather boots suddenly filled his view, the slim metal stiletto heel tapping almost impatiently against the cold concrete floor.
Lucinda was crouching next to him, a tender hand stroking his short cropped hair.
'I'm sorry that this had to happen, Alec,' she was whispering to him, 'Truly I am, but you couldn't expect Caleb to just let you walk in here, could you?'
He gave a grim smile that cracked his lips further, alarmed Lucinda ran her thumb over the new flow of blood. 'I wouldn't have expected anything else, Lucinda, my dear.'
She gave no sign of having heard him, let alone the sarcasm in his voice, she just continued on with her whispery monologue. 'He wanted to kill you, you know? A single bullet there and then and we would have been rid of the biggest thorn in our sides. He's frightened of you Alec, frightened of who you are, and what your name still means. It's why he taunts you, because he knows that if you wanted you are the only one who could still rise against him, you are the only one he truly fears. C'mon Alec, rise up, oppose him, stand up against him, for every humiliation he has forced upon you, for every insult, for his daring to take your power, for this. Rise up. With me...'
Her hands had been stroking his arm as he had been sprawled on the ground at her feet. Her blue eyes, china blue, and as innocent and as wide as a doll's, blinked slowly at him, her thick lashes fluttering gently, pleading.
'We have always had fun together,' she smiled, 'Always. We have that history, Alec, you and I, we're two of a kind. We understand each other, we were so good together. We could be again. And we could take Hermes. Forget your silly little English spy...' Lucinda's fingers had involuntarily tightened on his ribs, and he gave a little shudder of pain and rolled onto his back, slowly, painfully. With an inward sigh of relief he thanked whoever it was that protected him that his back was still in one piece, that it hadn't crumbled in ruins again. Although it did ache more than he thought was good for him, and he could feel that a rib or two had been broken. He had been lucky, he had to grudgingly admit.
He gave a hollow laugh as he lay on his back. 'She...' he began, but Lucinda cut him off forcefully.
'Forget her. She is nothing now, she can't touch us now. Those who play with fire will only get burned. We are the future now. You, and I, and Hermes.'
He didn't ask how she had known about Ashleigh. She was now tucking something inside his jacket, carefully avoiding his ribs. 'These will give you and one of your men access...'
To where he wondered, but Lucinda didn't give him a chance to ask. He was fading once more, and he struggled to concentrate on her voice. 'Caleb won't be around much in the beginning, it will give you a chance to get on board, and conceal yourselves. The perfect opportunity will arise, I promise you... I won't fail you Alec, don't fail me...'
Her voice was cajoling once more, but was cut off as the door opened, she abruptly stood.
'You there!' She ordered, 'There is a car waiting outside. Take him to it. Gently you oafs! Can't you see he's injured?'
Strong hands were lifting him once more, holding him, but with care this time, and not a trace of malice. He felt himself being lifted, prayed this wasn't another trap, and with a sigh of relief, and a sudden surge of pain, he passed out again.
*
The docks where Gregory Fraser's body had been pulled from the water were just visible in the distance. Grey mist, damp and cold surrounded James and Ashleigh as they walked along the water's edge. Poor Fraser, Bond thought, in a rare moment of pity, he had simply been in the wrong place in the wrong time. He wondered how much Fraser had actually known, if anything? Killed for a swipe card, so Elliott and Deronda had been able to access the final component needed for Hermes. It was the only theory Bond had so far. Fraser would get a star on the wall, and a memorial service, all that any agent could hope for when killed in action.
The path was slippery as it would be in any city in December. Already Christmas decorations were going up, and the streets were filled with markets and the scent of roasting chestnuts. It did little to cheer either of them; instead they watched the granite coloured water slosh and break over the side. A wave crashed against the wall, sending foam high into the air, and sweeping up over the side, carefully Ashleigh stepped backwards to avoid the water, and he heard her sigh.
She was dressed in black pinstriped trousers, a black jumper and a black overcoat. The only splash of colour on her came from the thin deep red velvet scarf tied around her throat, and the pink of her lips. Even the bruises on her temple had faded in this dark light. It was as if her physical appearance reflected her state of mind, for days she had been dark, quiet, and introverted. Now they were together, and they had barely said two words to each other, beyond commenting on the weather.
Suddenly, she spoke. 'You're certain it's the place.'
'Beyond a doubt.'
'So, soon?'
'Soon.'
'Right.'
'Are you prepared for it?'
'Physically? Never been fitter.'
'And mentally?'
'Fine.'
'Nothing you want to talk about?'
Ashleigh turned to him amazed. He was looking decidedly uncomfortable. 'James, you never want to talk. Talking isn't your style.'
'I'm aware of that.' James ran an awkward hand through his hair, despite the fact that the wind was blowing it in all directions, and therefore the gesture was futile. 'Just, with everything that has happened, I thought you might need to. After everything with...'
'With Alec?' She coldly supplied for him, aware that he was unable to say the name himself.
'I suppose.'
'Actually yes...' Ashleigh suddenly changed direction. 'I need to ask you something. And I want you to be honest with me.'
She ignored the stifled look that appeared on his face. 'You knew Alec was alive. Didn't you?'
'Why do you say that?'
Ashleigh frowned and pushed her hands deep into her pockets, staring out across the sea. 'From the moment I told you Alec was alive, I realised that you already knew...'
'Ashleigh...'
'Don't interrupt me James. You knew. I know you did. You were quick to deny it, but there was no disbelief in your voice, no protests that it couldn't possibly be true. You simply said 'Alec Trevelyan is dead. I know because I killed him'. But you knew. You knew...'
Her voice trailed off until it was lost in the wind.
'I didn't know.' James finally admitted after what felt like forever. 'But I didn't believe he was dead. In Russia, the first time, I saw him die, or I believed I did. But in Cuba, I couldn't. It was a nagging doubt that gnawed at me since, and, since I'm being honest, it's a relief, it's a bloody relief to finally know one way or the other. But nothing Alec does, or has done surprises me anymore.'
They were silent for some time, each lost in their own thoughts about the same man. James noticed the way her fingers continually rubbed her throat, a recent habit, and a sudden instinct hit him. He turned her to face him, his fingers deftly unknotting her scarf. On her pale throat were bruises, faint, but still obvious. He examined them, tilting her jaw one way and the other, noticing the familiar pattern they took. She bit her lip, the only sign of distress as she patiently endured his observations. The final test, he lightly placed his hands around her throat, and saw the way his fingertips matched the bruises almost perfectly. His face hardened.
'He did this to you.' It was a statement, not a question. 'When?'
She refused to look at him. 'The night you were with Lucinda. We had dinner together.'
'And he attacked you?'
'In a way... yes.'
'Why?'
'I suppose I provoked him. I asked him if he could ever kill me....'
'So he decided to show you that he could. Did he hurt you?'
'Not really. Frightened me a bit. Made me open my eyes to a few things.'
James hesitated. Then sighed. 'Tell me. Tell me everything you said to him. Everything he said to you.'
She was reluctant at first, but her voice grew stronger as she recounted the night's events. 'He asked me what would happen if he got in the way of the mission. Compromised it. I said I would kill him, and that I would regret it. Then I asked him if he could ever kill me.' She gestured at her throat. 'As you can see, he was quick to make his point. And then...'
'Go on,' James prompted her, seeing the colour raise in her cheeks.
'I think he apologised to me. He told me he had no reason to harm me, and until I gave him a reason to... well.' She shrugged. 'He asked me to stay with him that night.'
'And did you?'
She shook her head. 'No. I told him no, and that I thought I was getting in too deep. I chose the mission over him James, are you relieved now? Isn't that what you wanted? But he surprised me then. He... he almost begged me to stay. I never thought he would be the type to beg...'
'He isn't.' James replied stonily, feeling a flicker of fear for his goddaughter begin deep in his stomach. If she had rejected Alec... then Alec would be out for revenge. He had never taken rejection well. James felt a sudden urge to get Ashleigh on the next plane home, as far away from Russia as possible. Who knows what Alec could do in this frame of mind?
Suddenly, in a panic, he reached for her, and grabbed her shoulders. 'Listen to me, Ashleigh, if only for this one time, listen to me. You do not simply reject Alec Trevelyan...'
'James,' she struggled under his tight grasp, 'James, you're hurting me. James!'
He realised how tightly he was holding her, and the look of pain on her face made him slowly release her.
'Its done now. He'll just have to live with it.' She turned away from him, and watched a ship that was slowly sailing across the horizon.
Yes, he would have to live with it, James thought darkly, but would he let Ashleigh live with it? He had no idea what Alec would do, and the fear for Ashleigh's safety continued to grow.
'You never answered me.'
Lost in thought, James dragged himself back to his goddaughter. 'Sorry?'
'You never answered me, when I asked you if you are relieved now? That I chose the mission over my heart. A right little chip off the block, aren't I?'
She was angry, deliberately provoking him. He ignored it. 'Do you love him?'
'Alec?'
'Yes.'
'No.' It was painful to her own ears. 'I have needs, and Alec was there to fulfil them, but I don't believe in love, James, because every time I love someone they leave me. My mother, my father, and you.'
He was surprised at this. 'I don't understand.'
'You, James, every time I spent anytime with you when I was growing up, you were never there. You would get called away on 'business' or when you were there, your mind was else where. It wasn't your fault, I understood, but it felt like everyone I loved rejected me in some way or another. So no. I don't let myself fall in love with anyone.'
'Surely, you've had boyfriends...'
'Yes. Plenty of them, thank you. But every time it got to that stage, it was a mechanical reply, 'I love you too,' easily said, never meant. I don't believe in it, and I won't let it get in the way of my career. Alec Trevelyan is out of my life, and he will stay there. We have a mission to complete, and it will be done.'
They stared at each other then and realised how similar they were. Without another word they turned, and carried on walking in silence.