It had been over a year since the woman had last climbed the rickety wooden steps to the terrace on the roof of the taverna. The tiles were still chipped, and one had shattered, sending small pieces scattering over the terrace. The same cracked terracotta pots held still wilting plants, and the same painted wrought iron furniture waited for customers. The paint was still peeling, and idly the woman reached out, and pulled a piece away, rubbing it between her fingers thoughtfully.
'For you,' a voice grunted in heavily accented English behind her.
She wasn't startled, having heard the heavy footsteps of the owner as he had grudgingly climbed the steps behind her. A carafe of wine was placed on the peeling table, along with two glasses. M frowned with distaste at the thought of the sweet, thick, sickly liquid on such a hot day, and wished she could have asked for something else, but the taverna owner had already left, and she doubted he would have complied with her request anyway.
It was hot. Compared to the damp, and chilled London she had left behind, this city was simply steaming. Smog hung over the crowded streets in a thick, grimy layer, traffic crowded below, with every vehicle fighting for precedence in the chaos. It was a bustling, busy city, but with a dark side just waiting to erupt into violence at the slightest provocation.
It suited the man she waited for.
There was a creak from below as someone began to climb the stairs. Quickly M crossed the terrace, and took a seat, composing herself for what she felt could inevitably only be a confrontation.
For a man who had been hiding underground for the last few months, he looked disturbingly well. The sun had caught his skin, the suit was, as always, impeccably tailored, and he carried himself with his usual languid confidence. A pair of expensive sunglasses were thrown with deceptive casualness onto the table, leaning over, he reached for the wine.
'I wouldn't. It's warm.'
'It's been many years since you were in a position to tell me what and what not to do.'
M simply raised her shoulders in a dismissive shrug.
He grimaced. The wine was indeed overly warm, tepid in his mouth, and sickly sweet. He quickly put the glass back down and pushed it away.
'I did warn you.'
Alec Trevelyan glared at the woman who had once been his superior. Who calmly stared back at him. The city might have been stifling hot, but M showed no outward sign that it was effecting her. Her pale blue eyes were as cool as ever. Alec on the other hand felt the sun bearing down upon him, and loosened his tie with a vicious jerk.
'You're here then.'
'You ordered it. And I obeyed. Like I always do.'
'I thought I wasn't in a position to tell you what to do.'
'Must you manipulate everything?'
M drummed her fingers lightly on the table. 'If I have to manipulate to gain control, then so be it. Control is everything in this line of work. Every eventuality must be considered, calculated. However it's impossible to predict every outcome. Variables become erratic, and suddenly, there's a rogue element in the equation. That's the moment when the entire structure becomes unstable. Control is lost.'
A muscle ticked in Alec's smooth left cheek. 'You're telling me this why?'
She shot him a look that told him he knew exactly why. 'I had considered every possible outcome. Success. Failure. Life, or death. The mission to retrieve Hermes should have been a roaring success. Except, I didn't allow for that rogue element.'
'And what exactly was that?' his pretence of boredom was growing thin as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. There was no shade in which to seek reprieve from; instead the sun beat down upon him, as relentless as M's unwavering gaze.
Below them there was a sudden flare of car horns, and a cacophony of shouting. Alec turned irritably towards the sound, and in that moment, he nearly missed M's hushed words.
'She's alive.'
For the briefest second, the relief was palpable on his face, his shoulders slumped with the sudden removal of tension, and he let out his breath. It was over in the blink of an eye, so quickly M wondered if she had imagined it.
'Good,' he said shortly, and pushed his chair back, the metal screeching on the tiles.
'Is that all you have to say?' M refused to let him ruffle her feathers.
He paused. When he spoke, ice coated every word. 'I did everything you asked me to. I wanted to be there at the end. I wanted to go to the ship with them. You ordered me out of Russia, and I went. I asked only one thing, that if she survived - if they survived - you would tell me. I know now. I have no reason to stay.'
M picked up her wine, and sipped. Alec sat again, knowing he couldn't walk away, and M knew it too. Neither were willing to give an inch.
'Is she - I mean Ash - how is she?'
'She's acting like the foolish young woman she is.' M let her anger show briefly. 'For as long as I've know you Alec, you've always had women coming out of your ears. What's so special about this one? Why did she have to be one of my agents?'
'She was there.'
M pursed her lips. '"She was there". Is that truly all you can say on the matter? "She was there." Next you'll be asking me to believe that she means nothing to you.'
'She doesn't,' he said, but there was a twitch in his cheek.
'So why go to all the effort to assist her? Why put your own neck on the line? Why bother worrying if she's alive?'
The twitch became a clenching of the jaw.
'But, yes she is alive. As is James. Deronda and Elliot on the other hand are dead, and Hermes retrieved and destroyed. And please, stop giving me that look. I know full well that you wanted to help, but you also know there was no way I could have allowed you to accompany them. So stop scowling at me, and listen to what I have to say.'
'Why?'
'Because I have an agent that is currently walking around like a love sick teenager and its affecting her work. I can't allow her to continue in this manner. Therefore, I want to make you an offer.'
Alec waited. Under the table, unseen, he clenched his fists, half eager, half dreading what this woman was going to say. His meeting with M in this place over a year ago had changed his perspective on life somewhat. Reluctantly, week by week, communication by communication, M had drawn him back to MI6, blackmailing him into co-operation. He knew names, he knew details, he knew locations.
Immunity.
It was such a simple thing, but to Alec it had been everything. A chance to live in peace. M would 'overlook' the 'small international incident' that had been Goldeneye, and Alec's willingness to destroy entire countries, and instead appeal to the man he had become. Tempting him, holding out the shining apple, all he had to do was take it.
He had bitten deeply into it, and found it sweet.
Life had been almost content, until one night, he had discovered his name being linked with a mysterious consignment, and curiosity had dragged him out of hiding.
They had been fools. Set up to take each other out. MI6's agents would remove Janus, or Janus would remove MI6. It simply screamed Lucinda's handiwork. The bitch had tried to use him, to prove herself against him, knowing that her power would always be linked to her lover, and nothing more. Lucinda Elliot had been determined to prove that she could work alone.
She hadn't counted on what had happened next.
His men had given chase, but mercifully stopped short of actually killing their prey. Lying at his feet, helpless, and at his mercy. A useful bargaining chip should everything fall to pieces, he had taken her back to his home.
Aggressive. Defiant. Furious. She had fought against him every inch of the way, and he had admired that. He had wanted her, and she had wanted him, no matter how hard she fought it. Desire was a powerful drug.
She was his one weakness.
And M knew it. M was going to manipulate this for all that it was worth.
'As an agent, Alec, you were one of the best I have ever known.' M spoke softly, a confession for Alec only, 'If you hadn't defected, then you could have been the best. You made your choice then. However, you are an invaluable asset to MI6, and we like to protect our investments.'
'I scratch your back, and you'll scratch mine,' he murmured.
'Exactly,' M narrowed her eyes. 'I propose this; constant surveillance. I want an agent near you all the time. I want to know what you're doing, when you're doing it, and how you will be doing it. I want someone who can let us know what you're going to do before you've even realised it yourself. I don't trust you an inch, Alec, but unfortunately I have to rely on you. It's not a situation I particularly like, but it will have to do. And by placing someone who I do trust close to you... well... we all get what we want in the end.'
'What we want? And what exactly do you think I want, M?'
'Not 'what', Alec, but 'who'.' M sat back in her seat with a satisfied smile. It was all so simple. Control had been regained.
Alec sat, stunned. 'You mean...'
'Yes.'
'No!' Alec roared, and for a moment M was scared the table would be thrown over. She slammed her hands down onto it.
Alec paced the terrace furiously. 'No,' he hissed. 'No.'
'Problema?' a low voice growled. The bar tender, hearing raised voices and the table screeching across the tiles as Alec had stood, had left his usual post, and ventured into the sunlight.
'You could say that,' Alec muttered.
'Not at all,' M smiled coolly at the man. 'Everything is fine.'
'You can't do this M,' Alec snarled as the man grudgingly headed back down the stairs.
'Why not?'
'You can't continually use your agents as pawns in whatever strange game you're playing.'
'The game I'm playing Alec is called International Security. You are a threat to that security, I'm merely safeguarding against every possibility.'
'By asking Ash to spy on me?'
'Hardly spy on you.'
'What else would you call it?'
'I would assign Agent Kain to you-'
'To spy on me.'
'No. If Agent Kain chooses to accept this assignment, I will discharge her from MI6. Officially, she will no longer be an agent, unofficially; she will be working directly for me in a freelance capacity.'
'Would she accept?'
'Agent Kain will do what I tell her to do.'
'So she'll be 'unofficially' spying on me,' the bitterness in his voice was clear.
'What else can I do, Alec?' M sighed. 'Tell me, what else I can do, and I will. You're a wanted man. You can't return to England, nor can you ever be safe anywhere in the world. There are too many out there that want to bring down Janus. She'll be there in a protective stance. Not just as an informant.'
It was something of an understatement. Alec paused, and turned slowly back. 'And if she comes? She'll be risking her life.'
'I think she'd be willing to.' M softened. 'You had more of an effect on her than I think she would care to admit.'
Alec nodded slowly. 'But ultimately she'll still be spying on me.'
M smiled broadly. 'Keep your nose clean, and she won't have anything to tell me.'
Alec hesitated. The chance to see Ashleigh again was a tempting one indeed. The sheer relief he had felt when M had confirmed her survival persuaded him that he might actually care for her. To see her again. To hold her again.
He was getting old, he thought wryly. And M knew it. 'If I agree to this, immunity continues?'
M nodded. 'Immunity continues.'
'You really think she'll come?' he asked softly.
'We'll see,' M leant forward and poured them both another glass of wine. 'Now, onto our current situation. I believe we have some matters to discuss.'
Alec reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and removed a series of photographs. 'Flew in three days ago from Beijing.'
'Active?'
'Very.'
M picked up the photographs and flipped through them. 'Excellent. Proceed with caution from now on, Alec, I want you to keep your head down, and out of danger.'
'As if I would willingly put myself in danger.'
M glared at him. 'Just stay out of trouble until I can get an agent to you. You will receive new orders then.'
'Of course. Will I recognise this agent of yours?'
'You might, Alec,' she murmured, determined to keep him on his toes. 'But then, you might not.'