from my arm catching in the silk of my gown. I lash out with all my weight behind me as she lunges again. I try to scream but my voice appears trapped in fear. The needle point again tears through the material missing its target. I swing an arm in panic, missing her, catching the edge of a cubicle doorframe. The sudden pain finally releases a scream from my mouth.
Brains bursts in through the door shouting into her wristwatch “Red, red, red!” She launches herself at my attacker. The woman ducks swiftly, throws a right hook at Brain’s jawline, and dives out of the door. Momentarily stunned, Brains spins 360 degrees chasing after her.
I s tagger to my feet as the door to the powder room splinters and cracks under the force of Kane and Dalton crashing through it. In a split second, I am rushing through the exit, engulfed in his arms and pinned tightly against his body.
As we disappear from the building, I faintly hear over the microphone ‘And the winner tonight of the Specialist Journalist of the Year is Sky Sinclair……….’
Chapter Ten
DCI Mercer hands me the grainy CCTV image of the woman who attacked me in the powder room at the London Hilton three days ago. DCI Keaton leans across the coffee table sighing deeply. “I know it’s not much to go on, and to be honest, your description and account of events is better than a shitty grainy picture. But at least the CCTV image puts her in the vicinity. I know we have asked you this before….but you are certain that her accent was Russian?”
I nod, for the umpteenth time. “Yes, definitely. She was Russian.”
Jack Mercer scowls in frustration. “Alexei Bortsov is being interviewed as we speak. But he is denying knowing or ever meeting the woman who attacked you. But we’re pushing him….putting the pressure on. And the partial print on the victim’s bracelet came back negative for him. So we’re running it again against all our databases.”
“Surely she must have ditched the syringe somewhere. Is there any news on that?” Kane enters the living room , followed closely by Storm. Kane insisted since the incident that security be increased so now the full team take it in shifts to watch me 24/7 in the Safe House.
Jack raises his hands, irritated. “We swept every inch of Mayfair, Kane. Nothing. If your team had caught her, then……”
Kane balls both his hands into tight fists. “Don’t you think I’ve chewed the team enough?! She disappeared into thin air. She must have had back-up. Where the fuck were your guys, eh?” Kane roars stepping towards Jack aggressively. Storm pulls back his boss, forcing him into a chair.
Jo hn Keaton runs a hand through his hair. “Guys, this isn’t helping. We need to work together. Sky, call us if you remember anything else….no matter how insignificant it may seem.”
***
Alexei Bortsov slides his large frame into the back seat of his Bentley Azure positioned at the exit car park of New Scotland Yard. He pinches the bridge of his nose before turning to the man already seated. “Sort this mess out, Dmitry. I am losing patience at a very fast rate.”
Dmitry nods abruptly before responding. “Was it Natalya in the photograph?”
Alexei shakes the tension out of his neck. “Yes, but I denied knowing her. What was she thinking?”
“Perhaps she thought she was protecting you?” Dmitry tries to soften the tension in the air.
“Huh? Protecting me? She just brought shit right to my front door! And now she has disappeared too. Find Natalya, find Sky Sinclair and put an end to this, Dmitry!”
***
Storm sn atches the mobile from his ear, smiles widely, and walks back through the French doors into the living room. He throws his muscular bulk into a chair and eyes his boss. Kane is a coiled spring ready to snap at any moment. Storm has never
Learning to Kill: Stories