The hot water was sweet relief after too many days spent shivering, finding herself unable to get warm. She reached out and turned the handle of the shower violently, turning the water as hot as it would go, until the scalding water plastered her hair to her head and penetrated the weary muscles of her aching body.
It was over.
It was over.
The thought repeated itself endlessly, until finally it fell into a rhythm with her heart. She concentrated on nothing, one hand holding her upright against the endless onslaught of the boiling water. Her skin turned pink, her breathing shallow, but still she could not warm up. It seemed the cold was here to stay.
Three days of debriefing had taken their toll on Ashleigh, three days of endless sessions with M, and James, and other high ranking personnel, all who had little or no idea of just how close they had come to being wiped out. Questions had been fired from all angles, had the correct prescribed procedures been followed through, had orders been obeyed? Tired, her head slumping further towards the table with every question, Ashleigh had struggled to answer coherently, or at least to give an answer that could be deemed satisfactory. Every so often she would catch a glimpse of James, but the 00 agent had refused to meet her eyes, instead, fresh and composed he had replied in a rational and precise tone, giving thorough, detailed answers that left little room for nitpicking. It was as if he was bored of the whole thing already, whereas Ashleigh could think of nothing else. Had she been right to do what she did? Not only were her actions under scrutiny from her superiors, they were also under attack from herself.
Of course, the Janus situation had arisen. Slumped in her seat, fighting back the waves of humiliation that had crashed over her, she had answered as honestly as she could, but thankfully M had intervened. The situation had been orchestrated by M herself, the older woman had said, quickly on the defensive, and that his co-operation had been a success rather than the failure that the men around the table were willing to declare. Agent Kain had merely been working under M's order's to gain an element of Janus's trust. The steely eyes of the head of MI6 staring around the table had been enough to deter any further questioning. Ashleigh knew she should be grateful to the older woman for getting her out of a tight spot, but part of her was furious that her role with Alec had been so casually dismissed. It had been her that had fought to win over Alec, if she hadn't have been involved, then the co-operation that M had apparently coaxed out of the 'reformed' Janus would never have happened.
Curiously she had glanced at James during this discussion of his nemesis, but James had seemed strangely unaffected, listening to the proceedings with a cool detachment, hardly interested. But Ashleigh thought she knew better, wondered if the sudden tightening of his shoulders were caused by the mere mention of Janus, or if he was just stiff after the mission. As if sensing her analytical dissection of his actions, he visibly relaxed, stretching out, and as he caught her eye, rather deliberately, offering a small, fake smile.
It always came back to him, didn't it? Ashleigh thought as she showered. No matter where her thoughts had led her, they always came back to him, always to the scarred, mysterious man that had so easily wrapped her round his little finger. She had been his pawn in a larger game he was playing, using her to get to James, to get to M, to take revenge on the organisation that had foiled him, and getting her to do his dirty work.
She had killed for him. He had played on her sense of honour, begged her to do what he couldn't do, but that had been a lie hadn't it? If he had truly wanted to, couldn't he have taken out Deronda and Elliot? But Ashleigh had had more of an opportunity. Had he intended to send her out just so she could kill them for him? Or had his reasons been more honourable than that, a genuine desire to aid her and her mission?
She would never know. Instead, she found herself reliving the moment of Lucinda's death over and over again, the horrible feeling of resistance as the knife had plunged into the other woman's throat, the startled look in the china blue eyes, the sudden slump as life left the body, and only Ashleigh held that body upright. Almost clinically detached at the time, Ashleigh found she was plagued by the horror of the moment, and the knowledge that she had killed so easily. Blood had gushed down her, staining her skin vividly, mingling with her own. Of course, she had killed before, but usually with a gun, a simple aim, a flicker of pressure upon a trigger, and a figure had slumped unmoving to the floor. How could the two ever be possibly connected? But this time, blame was unmovable, placed entirely upon her shoulders, twisting into her very being, eating away at her core. She had seen life extinguished in those eyes, haunting eyes, and she had been the cause. She had seen the pain, and been marked by the blood.
Drenched, saturated, soaked, smothered by blood, a thick, mercury like liquid that had rolled across her skin, hot and burning, a scorching contrast to the icy water that had surrounded them.
Subconsciously, she rubbed at the sopping bandage that was wrapped round her upper arm. She had been forced to see the doctor as she had predicted, and the wound closed with a few stitches that would eventually dissolve. It could have been so much worse, she shivered, she knew she had gotten off lightly. James had suffered cuts and bruises, but how close they had come to death... She shook her head, refusing to think such morbid thoughts.
After all, it was their job. All that just to save the world; what were their lives worth in comparison to the safety and continued security of the human race? All for Hermes, the canisters had been removed from her almost immediately, and for a moment, Ashleigh had found herself ready to snatch them back. She had fought so hard to retrieve them, they were hers, and hers alone. The possessiveness that had swamped her had scared her, but the cold fury that she had fought and killed for those small vials had taken over her, and she had almost lost it at they were taken away. But the obedient agent had acquiesced, and they had mysteriously vanished away. All the consignments of the virus that had been dotted around the world had been retrieved and no doubt destroyed.
But still... somewhere those two vials would sit, somewhere deep within an underground vault perhaps, just waiting, waiting for their moment. It would be a foolish country indeed that would throw away such power. They were all that remained of such a weapon; there was no way that the only country that held Hermes would be willing to destroy it.
And so it had all come to an end. Finally, M had dismissed her, and now Ashleigh found herself back in the same hotel room she had occupied for far too long, letting the hot water of the shower take away her troubles. Under the scalding deluge, she tried to forget, tried to push her thoughts far, far away.
But she couldn't. It had been three, no, four days now since she had seen him. Across her knuckles purple bruises were slowly fading to a sickly yellowish green. She had hit him hard, she had to admit that, examining the still tender marks, but how satisfying it had been to crash her fist into that smug, arrogant, smirking scarred face.
The same face that had been flickering at the corners of her mind, constantly at the edge of her thoughts. Awake or asleep, he dominated her, her very senses rebelled against her until she could almost feel his touch on her bare skin, or breathe in the cloying scent of his cologne...
Her hand slapped hard against the tiled wall of her shower, sending droplets of cooling water splattering onto her hot skin. She winced in pain, seeing the pale palm of her hand quickly reddening at the sudden harsh contact, and with a sigh, viciously turned the water off.
She had made her decision. And this time, she'd show him.
*
The darkness was almost complete outside, broken only by the dim light of the lamps that lined the long drive way. His reflection obscured most of the view outside, and he tried to ignore the reflection within the glass, instead staring out to where he knew the lake sat. In the dense blackness, the trees that surrounded the water were barely distinguishable from the night sky.
'Enter,' he snarled as there was a timid knock on the door.
'We've been prepped and cleared for take off, sir, so as soon as you're ready...' the nervous voice tailed off.
His fingers trailed the stubble that lined his strong jaw, barely feeling the raised texture on the right side of his face. Ready? Was he ready? As he'd ever be, he supposed.
'Five minutes.'
'Yes, sir.'
The door clicked shut, and Alec glanced around the dark room. It was oppressive, almost claustrophobic in its darkness, but he liked it. He found peace here.
He picked up the phone from where it sat on the desk. He only had five minutes.
*
She slid across the room, one hand holding the towel tightly around her body, her dark hair dripping water onto her bare shoulders. The room was cold, after the heat of the shower, and goose bumps rose on her skin.
It was too easy to slide her hand into the pocket of her overcoat, and remove the small silver phone. She glanced in an irritating manner at her coat, the black wool slowly gathering white fluff as it lay thrown across the back of a chair, discarded and forgotten during the rush of the last week. Her hands shook as she flipped the phone over.
There was a click of connection, then silence. Ashleigh frowned. Something wasn't right here.
A piercing tone beeped in her ear before a polite, vaguely apologetic voice told her in Russian that the number didn't exist.
Ashleigh took a deep breath. She tried again. The same message.
Her howl of rage echoed through the building as she threw the phone across the room.
*
Slowly, Alec placed his head in his hands and sighed. The end had arrived once more, it was time to go, to vanish into the night for another time. His back ached as he stood. Perhaps he was getting weak, he reflected morosely.
A single file sat on the desk in front of him, bound in leather. Leave it, he ordered himself, walk away and leave it, it means nothing to you anymore.
He made it to the door before he turned back and snatched it up.
Weaknesses.
*
The car had remained in the underground car park for the entire time Ashleigh had been away. It was only as she found the car keys as she dressed, that she even remembered about it. Still, it was convenient now.
Sliding in, she felt a brief flicker of fear as recalled the accident, but somehow that had faded in the light of the dangers she had survived since. Turning the key, the engine burst into life. For a moment her hand hovered over the gear stick, unsure.
No going back now.
Into first, and with a roar, she sped off into the night.
*
There was a faint hint of a satisfied smirk on Alec's face as he walked towards the helicopter. Blacker than the night, it reflected the flashing lights in its rounded belly, above the beetle like body; the rotor blades moved so fast they blurred into an almost solid circle. The engine was almost deafeningly loud at this close proximity.
The gusts from the rotors blew his overcoat back, as he stalked to the door, clambering in, refusing the help from a faceless henchman. He had to get the hell away from here.
Minutes later, there was a shuddering sense of weightlessness as the copter took off. His home, or at the least the place where he had lived in relative peace for the past few years was disappearing before his eyes as they rose higher. He tore his gaze from the window, and glanced down.
His fingers rested lightly on the file in front of him.
He would not look.
*
She drove on instinct, following a vague memory of roads she had been down before, seemingly a life time ago. She had to get there; somehow, there was no other choice.
It was so dark on the quiet country roads; she couldn't remember the last time the night sky had been so overcast. Few stars penetrated the thick cloud cover.
Finally, the roads began to seem familiar, finally, she thought she knew she was close. Her foot pressed harder on the accelerator, the car surged forward, and she knew she was nearly there.
The long, solid wall lining the road heralded the beginning of Alec's estate, and she let out a small cry of triumph. The car skidded to a halt in front of the high metal gates, and skidding on the wet drive, she threw herself out of the car and around the front to the gates. The clicking of her heels echoed into the lonely night.
There was no sign of life. The house was in darkness. Even the lights of the drive had been turned off. Apart from the low purr of the ticking over engine, there was nothing but an eerie silence.
Fighting back a wave of panic, she stepped back from the gates, there was no intercom, no way of getting inside the grounds. There was no point in attempting to clamber over the high pointed gates, or even the wall where broken glass caught the light of the car's headlights. She rattled the bars of the gates, they were definitely locked.
'Alec!' she shouted futilely, 'Alec!'
Her voice echoed mockingly back. She swore under her breath and kicked the gate hard enough to hurt her foot.
He was gone. There was no doubting how he felt.
She was freezing, the night air biting into her, and she felt herself begin to shiver again. She rested her head against the cold metal of the gates, and closed her eyes.
'I thought you wanted me,' she whispered.
It was getting colder, but still she stood there. Finally, her shoulders slumped, and she turned back to the car.
*
How easy it was to peel open the soft leather file, how easy it was to separate the thin, glossy paper inside, and to simply slide it out.
Weaknesses. Weaknesses, everyone had them.
He should have killed her. The old Alec would never have thought twice about it, a cruel, stark warning to all those that crossed him, a warning to Bond. But even the old Alec had had a weakness for a pretty face. He would have bedded her, and then killed her. Much tidier, much less hassle than the mess this new Alec was creating. He couldn't shake this pretty face out of his mind.
Dark hair, dark eyes.
A decent right hook.
He thought felt his cheekbone where she had hit him, it was still tender, the bruising only just beginning to fade. She was stronger than she looked, both mentally and physically. He had been foolish to think that he could change the rules at the last minute, and he had paid the price for that foolishness. What did it matter? - She had been going to her death and the cold lonely plaque on MI6's memorial wall.
Yet, still. She had wormed her way into his consciousness, and tempted him with her dark eyes, and desire for him. There was innocence to her, the same innocence that her father had had, the same belief that the good would eventually win out. He had called it a weakness in her, and in David, but in all honesty, he admired the sentiment. Faith, he supposed it was a form of faith. And faith was something that continued to elude him.
He slid the photo out. After he had let her go after the first night, he had sent a man after her, just to watch, to observe. The photograph had been taken as she had left the hotel one morning, the wind had caught her short hair, whipping across her face, irritated, she had brought a hand up to push it out of the way. On reflection, she didn't look her best, she was scowling, and looked strangely as if she believed the entire world was out to get her. It was enough though, enough to remind him of the way her eyes would deepen as she looked at him, the way she would press her body against him. Closing his eyes he was overwhelmed by a sudden memory of her in his bed, her pale skin silver in the moonlight, her gentle laughter as he stroked the curve of her stomach, before trapping his mouth with hers, kissing him until he could no longer catch his breath.
It had been too long since a woman had had this effect on him. It was dangerous, far too dangerous.
Regaining control over his feelings, he stuffed the photograph back into the file. She was in the past. And the past was another country.
Idly he stared out the window. They were still flying quite low, but there was little visible outside. As they banked round, a flash of light caught his attention outside. Headlights cut through the darkness as a single car headed back towards the city to the north. He watched as they swept above it, and he envied the simple life of the driver within.
A new future awaited him. One where he would be alone.
He tried not to let the thought of that bother him too much. Things were always simpler when you were alone.
*
She had been alone before, she could be alone again.
Somehow, that didn't comfort Ashleigh much.
Her hands tightened on the wheel as the needle of the speedometer crept sharply up. She stared fixedly at the road ahead, refusing to think about what had just happened.
The last time she had driven back to St. Petersburg from Alec's she had never made it. Instead her journey had been one into blackness. How easy would it be to simply drive off the road now? A simple jerk of the wheel and she would descend into blackness once more, only this time, she wouldn't wake up. It had been almost painless last time, it would be this time.
'Stop it!' she howled, shaking the steering wheel.
She couldn't think like that. She wouldn't come through everything she had only to die in some pathetic accident caused in a moment of self loathing.
'Don't give him the bloody satisfaction, Kain,' she muttered to herself.
This was over now. She had tried. He had rejected her, and now, she had to face that. She would be leaving soon. Getting away from this country where there had been nothing but pain.
Soon.
Glancing up, she saw the brilliant red, green and white lights of a helicopter cut through the sky. There was something strangely beautiful about the dark shape above her, and she stared, fascinated by it. For a brief moment it hovered over her, and then was gone, a retreating shape in her rear view mirror.
If only she could escape as easily.
St. Petersburg loomed in front of her. She would be gone soon. One more night. Then home.