Loyalty

Rachel’s first trip to England didn’t go as planned. She couldn’t have imagined in a million years the surprise waiting for her in the quaint town of Bristol.

Her assignments had always been very straightforward. A courier would drop off a package at her work with instructions included in the packing slip. It would be easy to decode, and getting away was never a problem. Her ‘day job’ was working for a large luxury hotel chain in the southeast. She’d been there long enough to be able to work from home, spending one week a month in Miami.

Most of her assignments so far had been in Spain, Germany, and France. She knew the territories well, having learned her trade from one of the best, her father. He’d raised her alone from the age of ten, after her mother died. In the beginning, he’d leave her with her aunt while he went on missions. But as soon as Rachel was old enough he began to train her. Actually, it was a wonderful cover for her father. No one ever suspected the single father on holiday with his daughter would be the one to put a bullet between his or her eyes.

Rachel didn’t have any close friends; it was something she couldn’t afford in her line of work. She had acquaintances, but given her cover job it was easy to keep everyone at arms length. The closest she’d ever been to anyone was her father. Just after her sixteenth birthday he’d set out on a mission alone. He told her it was just too dangerous for her to come along and sent her to spend the weekend with her aunt. The weekend came and went yet her father never returned home. She vowed to someday find the person responsible for her father’s death.

This assignment, however, was going to be different. Three days prior Rachael received a package with instructions; her next job would be in The Hague. Once she arrived, there’d been barely enough time to get checked into her hotel before the second package arrived. Not that a second package was all that odd in itself, it had been known to happen. A job description often was sent in two parts to avoid detection; if one package were intercepted, it would be impossible to sabotage the mission with only half the information. The present assignment looked pretty straightforward. Find the man who’d intercepted a large amount of money mid-transfer and get it back for The Agency’s client. Then, see to it the man never stole again.

Her intelligence gave her an insight into the daily life of the hit. Daily routines, habits, acquaintances, etc., were given as much detail as possible. Rachel was regarded as one of the top agents in her field. She could take the most obscure information and within days blend into the life her target. Fluent in French, Spanish and German, it was never hard to finish the job and disappear into the night.

The Hotel Des Indes is one of the oldest hotels in The Hague. The man she was sent to kill always stayed there while in the Netherlands. He had a particular suite in the 130 year old establishment he requested each visit. Knowing all of this, Rachel had already come up with a plan. The suite was in the northwest corner of the hotel, the view out of the window looked over a quiet cobblestone street. It would be easy to bring up his usual nightcap, a Ketel One and tonic, to gain entry to his room. Her favorite method was to tase the subject, secure them and wait for them to wake up. If they didn’t give her answers willingly, she would repeat the process. The most times she’d ever had to repeat the process before getting the information she needed was three. Germans, she’d found, were the most reluctant to cave.

So, when the second package arrived with instructions to leave immediately for Bristol, she was curious. The Agency had other operatives that covered England. Rachel’s fluency lent her to other areas of the world. But, her job was not to question orders, simply to carry them out. She had learned from the best and was paid well for her unique skills.

The Cadbury house was over 300 years old in the small town of Bristol, England. The intelligence informed Rachel about the man she was to kill. He was 74 years old and passed himself off as a wealthy investor. Vague, but it suited his purposes. The odd thing about this particular assignment was that she wasn’t to extract any information before giving him his beauty mark. It had become her signature, one shot with a 22 Derringer right between the eyes. Close range, simple and quiet, just the way she liked.

While somewhat curious why this took precedence over The Hague Job, she dutifully packed her bag, destroyed the initial communication and booked an overnight flight to London.

Victoria Station was crowded when Rachael emerged from the Underground. Her options were either rent a car, or take the train. The train would prove more complicated making her retreat, depending on the schedule, but renting a car would mean using the identification she had used in the Netherlands. It was never wise to use the same credentials twice in a row. She picked up a train schedule and studied it on the ride to Bristol. If she planned correctly, she could finish her job and return to Victoria Station with in twenty-four hours.

Rachel waited for the last train of the day, it would be easier to find a seat in the back of a car and pretend to sleep. It was almost midnight when the she arrived in Bristol. After forty-five minutes a cab arrived. The driver wasn’t a chatty sort and didn’t pay to much attention to his fare. Set in a remotely rural area, the Cadbury House was only about a mile from Weston Super Mare, a small seaside town. It would be easier to make her way there on foot after the job was finished than to have to wait around for another cab.

The cab dropped her in front of the ivy covered brick building. Rachel was in awe of the stately house. This wouldn’t be a bad place to retire she thought. The night porter handed her a package that had arrived earlier that day by special courier. Once she was in her room she opened the package. Her instructions was very specific, someone had done their research. She was to wait until the next evening when Mr. Noth to arrive. Not only was there no intelligence for her to retrieve from him, she wasn’t told why she was sent to kill him. Not that she was ever given much background information, but the intelligence she gathered for her boss usually gave her an insight as to what crimes had been committed. The only instructions were to kill him, no questions asked.

Mr. Noth was a creature of habit. He arrived by private car and stayed for three nights every other month. While at Cadbury he received several guests on the second night of his stay in a private dining room. Immediately after dinner, a private car took the guests away and Mr. Noth retired to the spa in the hotel. He would soak in a whirlpool bath for thirty-five minutes and then proceed to his room. The spa was closed by this time in the evening but Mr. Noth his own personal key. Rachel was to wait in the spa for him to begin his soak. After a few minutes he would be relaxed and off guard. Then she would have her chance.

The next day, Rachel stayed in her room to avoid interacting with the staff. When the authorities came to investigate, she didn’t want anyone to recall specific facts about her. She had a late lunch and lied down to go over the plan once more and clear her mind. Rachel’s father had taught her the important of being able to meditate before a job. Always go in with a clear head and a solid plan of action.

At seven o’clock she made her way down to the spa. It closed at seven thirty and she wanted to be in place before the doors were locked. All the lights were turned off except for a slight glow coming from the changing room. As she waited she couldn’t help but ponder why she’d sent her to a new destination on short notice. Most assignments were sent at a moments notice, but never had one assignment aborted for another.

As if on cue, Mr. Noth entered at precisely nine o’clock. He laid his robe on a chaise and eased into the hot water. Rachel waited until she heard his breathing relax and saw the tension drain out of his shoulders. She rose slowly, aiming her gun at the back of his head.

“I always knew they’d catch up to me one day. I just never dreamed they would send my own daughter to kill me.” Rachel froze. She recognized her father’s voice immediately.

“If you don’t kill me, they’ll kill us both.” He said softly.

“Daddy?” Rachel whispered. She lowered her gun and started walking around to face her father.

“Don’t Rachel, just listen.” he said. “When you were sixteen, I was sent on a mission to test my loyalty to The Agency. The man I was sent to kill offered me sixty millions dollars for his life. I hesitated, thinking of you and the life I could provide if I had the means to escape. I took the money and disappeared. I foolishly thought they would assume I was dead once they heard the man I was hired to kill was still alive. But he was an operative, just like me. By the time it was safe to contact your aunt, they’d already taken you. It was my punishment.”

Rachel’s mind raced in a thousand different directions. She and her father could flee; disappear into the night. But what kind of life would that be for an old man, constantly running. She knew what she had to do. The sound of Rachel’s gun hitting the concrete floor resonated throughout the spa. Her hand was on the door when she heard her father emerge from the whirlpool. She paused, but it was to late. She’d failed her test of loyalty. Her father, however, had been redeemed.







Leigh writes in Asheville, NC where she lives with her husband, son and a huge white German Shepherd.