Chapter Text
211008RJUN17
87 walked away from the building with an assured, composed stride which not only was the fruit of habit and training but also reflected his state of mind.
It was over. The Agent program would never be resumed. All the data had been erased or would be in a matter of minutes. As he walked, the software he had modified was analysing, searching and wiping out for good every trace of Litvenko and Al Bayati’s experiments from any device connected with the Syndicate’s web.
All in all, it had been child’s play. He had entered, hacked the mainframe of the central server and uploaded the algorithm he had elaborated the evening before. Next, he had walked downstairs, broken into the storehouse which contained the paper archive of the original research and placed a few timed explosive charges. The fire should spread in a few minutes, when the net would be already down worldwide, preventing anybody to make a last-minute backup.
It was over. Finished. Done with. He could start afresh. He had to. He could not go back to work for the Agency. And the Syndicate would not forget or forgive. But he could leave now. He had a good amount of money hidden in three accounts in Switzerland, Caymans and Hong Kong. He was free. He should just take the car, drive south towards Mexico and vanish into thin air. He was trained for that. He perfectly knew what he had to do. It was over.
Is it really? And what about her?
His training, his experience, and all his rational mind had a very clear answer to that question. They should part. They were not safe together.
That was why he had told her to wait for him at the station. After a while she would get it. She would understand that he would not join her.
Perhaps she already knows
And she would leave. He had explained to her that she’d need a new identity and documents and she’d said that she had a friend in Los Angeles, a guy who owed her a favour. She was resourceful and clever, she would make it. Probably she’d also like it better that way. She had said it clearly:
“a clean break … none to leave behind, only their memory … ”
She was used to it, it was easier for her. It was better for both of them.
“Bullshit. I want you and I perfectly know who you are”
Her voice rang in his ears. Followed by a sweeter, fresher phrase
“I love you. I just wanted to tell you”
Could he believe it? That was the problem. Perhaps she had said it just because she knew that it was the last time they were together. She didn’t need him. She would be better off without him. He was damaged goods. He would never be able to make her happy.
She would make you happy, though.
Yes, she would make him happy. He knew now what happiness was. His skin was still aching for the loss of her touch. He still remembered her taste. He would never get rid of her perfume in his nostrils. No one would ever mean as much.
But he could not be selfish. He had to make the best decision for them both. And he knew that if he asked her, she would choose to go with him.
Because she loves you.
No. Because she thought she owed it to him. She had remained with Brian for months just because he had helped her recover from her injuries. He could not expect anything less after saving her life a few times. But it was not love.
He would just check from a distance that she was ok. He would wait for her to realize that he would not reach her, that she was alone, and watch while she bought one single ticket to Los Angeles. He would make sure that she boarded the train or the coach. Next, he would abandon his car with the keys inside …
Let the Agency and the Syndicate chase whatever bunch of thugs that steal it!
… get a new vehicle, and he would be off too.
So he observed her from his car, looking at the tiny dot on his tablet screen that signalled her position on the station map. She had chosen a perfect blind spot, behind a pillar, with a good view of the three entrances and of the platforms.
She learns fast.
He thought with pride. He already missed her.
She had been waiting for him for more than 30 minutes when he had parked the car outside the station, and she kept on waiting for other 40 minutes. He’d pay to see her face, but didn’t trust himself.
Then a small vibration on his smartphone alerted him that he’d received a message:
“?”
No words, nothing else. But it came from the phone he’d given her. She had waited more than an hour before risking sending him a message. He could picture her struggling between respecting his order not to contact him and her need to know, and then opt for the shortest message to avoid giving precious information had his phone been taken by the enemy…
He pondered for long what to write. There were no words.
He saw her dot move and then go back to its position. Then again. Alarmed, he decided to listen to her from her watch. But she was silent. She only breathed deeply, and a bit shakily from time to time. He turned on the heart-rate monitor and it started beeping like mad.
Has something scared her?
Without a second thought he jumped out the car and reached a north window from which he could observe her. There were no evident dangers but she seemed in deep distress, she kept looking around, breathing deeply and once or twice she touched her eyes.
Is she crying?
He couldn’t tell. Then, all of a sudden, she took the gun from the back of her trousers and, very swiftly, counted how many bullets she had in the loader. And he understood. She was worried for him.
She’s coming to my rescue.
He had to stop her. She would get herself killed. She would not leave without him.
Marines leave no men behind.
He’d been an idiot. He should have expected it. So he moved, he entered the station and went near her, but not too close, stopping at the pillar on her right, where he could be hidden from the cctv cameras.
When she saw him, her eyes dilated in surprise, she inhaled noisily and, with a small smile asked:
“Are you ok?”
“Yes.”
“What happened? Where have you been?”
As he hesitated, her expression changed, her smile disappeared and she asked warily:
“What is it?”
“Jo, it’s over. We’ve got to part ways. It’s the best thing to do.”
“For whom?”
“For us, both of us. You need to go to LA and get a new identity. And I’ll go away too. If you need money I can take care of it.”
But she was shaking her head vigorously. Her eyes were hard, dry, determined, almost angry:
“Where are you going?”
“It’s better if I don’t tell you. Safer”
But she kept shaking her head as if he hadn’t understood her question.
“Where are you going?” she shrugged then went on “Your place is with me.”
“No, Jo, I know that you think so now, but we can’t.”
“Why not? You said it yourself, it’s over. We can make a new start. Together.”
“It won’t work.”
“Bullshit! We’ll make it work. You love me, I love you, it’ll work.”
Even though they were in blind spots, it was still risky to stay there, and their discussion was starting to attract attention. He had to put a stop to it, and he knew just how to do it: strike hard.
“It’s not love what you feel. It’s gratitude. But you don’t need to. You’re free. You’ll be fine.”
Jo frowned and gave a curt shake of her head, as if she wasn’t sure of what she’d heard. Then she exclaimed
“Gratitude?” but realized that her voice was way too loud and went back to a forceful whisper
“Fuck gratitude! I love you!” she took a breath and added:
“That’s why I didn’t tell you yesterday – while we were making love”
Not having sex, making love.
“because I wanted to be sure. And I AM. I love you! Come with me!”
She watched him with an expression which he had never thought to see directed to him. It was love. He was sure. She extended her hand towards him but she couldn’t reach him without leaving the protection of the pillar.
87 was paralyzed. He could not. He should not. His heart was pounding in his ears as if he was running. His hands were cold. He had never felt that way before.
“Jo, if it doesn’t work…”
She frowned, muttered, “If?” then snorted
“If it doesn’t work? It’s that it?”
She looked at him with a hard, determined expression and an almost mocking smile appeared on her face:
“You’re afraid! Welcome to my world.”
Fuck. Is she right?
He tried moving his mouth but no words left his lips and she pressed on:
“Don’t you think that I’m scared too? I’m terrified. But I’m much more frightened at the idea that I might not see you again.”
She outstretched her hand again and repeated with force: “Come with me.”
And he did.
With a long stride he closed the distance between them, took her hand and then sought the protection of the pillar on her side. They didn’t kiss. A few people were already staring, they should not attract too much attention, but Jo hid her face against his chest and panted a few times. When she raised her head to look at him there were tears in her eyes, but she was smiling:
“Don’t you ever do it again!”
He shook his head.
She dried her eyes and asked:
“Coach or train?”
“Coach, it’s safer.”
As they walked towards the ticket counter, he took off his tie and jacket and she put them in her bag. While they were standing in line, Jo kept looking around her at the cctv cameras then shot him a sideways glance and all at once kissed him. When 87 felt her hand sneak inside his shirt collar to cover his barcode, the fear that was still gripping his stomach suddenly dispelled. He had made the right choice. It was going to work.
On the 679 Greyhound bus from Charlotte to Los Angeles no one really paid attention to the couple sitting in the middle row on the right side. If they had, they would have heard a strange conversation.
They were holding hands and all of a sudden the young woman whispered:
“Did you really mean to let me go?”
The bald man nodded: “It would have been much more rational. And wiser.”
She studied him for a second, then said: “Glad you opted for stupid…”
He smiled: “Years of research and millions of dollars of experiments to create the perfect Agent and you’ve blown it all up in a few days …”
“We’ve done it together … actually you’ve done most of the work” she objected, a perplexed expression on her face.
He replied, with a playful smile and a glint in his eyes: “I was talking about me… Al Bayati will be turning in his grave.”
She burst out laughing and replied “Can’t say that I’m sorry…”
They kissed, for long, for many miles, and then fell asleep in each other’s arms. It was the end of a long journey, and the beginning of a new one.