the street devoid of movement. Everyone had chosen to steer clear of the scene, and I couldn’t blame them.
It was only a matter of time before the publican came back. Now that the crime scene had been dismantled, he’d sweep the place for anything he’d left behind.
“Is this what you imagined working for Section Seven would be like?” Mercy asked. She sat in the passenger seat, her boots resting on the dash with her gaze focused on the pub.
I narrowed my eyes but didn’t reply straight away. I didn’t remember my life as an MI6 agent. I had images that had been shocked out of me by Jackson, the…whatever he was. Tech guy, scientist? Those images didn’t mean much to me in context with my life now. Mei had given me a copy of my personnel file to go with it, but that was just letters on a page.
“I knew we’d have to answer to someone,” Mercy went on, “but it’s been a little cut and dried, don’t you think? I expected a little more support.”
“That’s what happens when you disobey a direct order,” I said dryly.
“ You disobeyed a direct order,” she shot back. “I’d hardly dipped my toe in outside of the fucking classroom. I didn’t get a chance to be a smartass.”
I snorted, returning my gaze to the pub down the street. “There was always going to be some teething issues.”
“I’ll say.”
“Once we do this, we’re free of any outside obligation,” I said. “No more personal shit.”
She slapped me on the arm and pointed toward the pub. “Old dude, eleven o’clock. And yes, you’re right. Just this one last thing to do before the slate is clean.”
We watched as the publican walked down the footpath, fishing in his pocket.
“Ties make this job difficult,” I said as the guy unlocked the door. “The less you’ve got to worry about, the better.”
“The less you have,” she murmured. We both knew about having no ties left in the world. Both our families were dead. Hers at the hands of Sykes and mine…well, they’d been my test of loyalty. Completely fucked up.
The publican disappeared inside, and a moment later, a light came on.
“We’ll go around back,” I said, checking my gun.
“Game time,” Mercy declared, sliding from the car.
We walked in silence down the dark alley behind the pub so we didn’t alert the publican that we were approaching. He’d likely assume he was in the clear after such a public display of violence. Nobody would be touching this place for a long time, so he was probably well looked after by whoever had ordered the hit on Gardener and his associate.
Leaning my back against the wall, I drew my gun and covered Mercy as she picked the lock to the rear entrance. There was a dull click as the mechanism turned over, and she nudged me with her elbow.
“Me first,” she whispered, pulling her gun out, obviously itching for some action.
Knowing it was useless to argue with her considering our current position, I nodded. Placing my hand on the knob, she held position, her gun aimed out in front of her.
When she nodded, I opened the door, and it swung inward, light flowing out onto the street from the illuminated office beyond, and she stepped inside without hesitation.
The publican turned with a cry at our abrupt entrance and pulled a pistol, raising it clumsily. Mercy sidestepped around him and brought down the butt of her gun into his elbow ditch. His aim was thrown toward the ceiling, and before he could get a shot off, she’d grabbed his wrist and disarmed him.
“Fucking annoying,” she declared as I darted forward.
I pressed the barrel of my gun against the publican’s head, ready to shoot the stupid thing off if he tried anything.
“Who the fuck are you?” he spat, his eyes crossing as they fixed onto the gun that was jammed against his temple.
“None of your fucking business,” I said.
His hand shot up to knock away my gun, and with an annoyed groan, I swung back the other way, my left fist connecting with his pudgy
It was only a matter of time before the publican came back. Now that the crime scene had been dismantled, he’d sweep the place for anything he’d left behind.
“Is this what you imagined working for Section Seven would be like?” Mercy asked. She sat in the passenger seat, her boots resting on the dash with her gaze focused on the pub.
I narrowed my eyes but didn’t reply straight away. I didn’t remember my life as an MI6 agent. I had images that had been shocked out of me by Jackson, the…whatever he was. Tech guy, scientist? Those images didn’t mean much to me in context with my life now. Mei had given me a copy of my personnel file to go with it, but that was just letters on a page.
“I knew we’d have to answer to someone,” Mercy went on, “but it’s been a little cut and dried, don’t you think? I expected a little more support.”
“That’s what happens when you disobey a direct order,” I said dryly.
“ You disobeyed a direct order,” she shot back. “I’d hardly dipped my toe in outside of the fucking classroom. I didn’t get a chance to be a smartass.”
I snorted, returning my gaze to the pub down the street. “There was always going to be some teething issues.”
“I’ll say.”
“Once we do this, we’re free of any outside obligation,” I said. “No more personal shit.”
She slapped me on the arm and pointed toward the pub. “Old dude, eleven o’clock. And yes, you’re right. Just this one last thing to do before the slate is clean.”
We watched as the publican walked down the footpath, fishing in his pocket.
“Ties make this job difficult,” I said as the guy unlocked the door. “The less you’ve got to worry about, the better.”
“The less you have,” she murmured. We both knew about having no ties left in the world. Both our families were dead. Hers at the hands of Sykes and mine…well, they’d been my test of loyalty. Completely fucked up.
The publican disappeared inside, and a moment later, a light came on.
“We’ll go around back,” I said, checking my gun.
“Game time,” Mercy declared, sliding from the car.
We walked in silence down the dark alley behind the pub so we didn’t alert the publican that we were approaching. He’d likely assume he was in the clear after such a public display of violence. Nobody would be touching this place for a long time, so he was probably well looked after by whoever had ordered the hit on Gardener and his associate.
Leaning my back against the wall, I drew my gun and covered Mercy as she picked the lock to the rear entrance. There was a dull click as the mechanism turned over, and she nudged me with her elbow.
“Me first,” she whispered, pulling her gun out, obviously itching for some action.
Knowing it was useless to argue with her considering our current position, I nodded. Placing my hand on the knob, she held position, her gun aimed out in front of her.
When she nodded, I opened the door, and it swung inward, light flowing out onto the street from the illuminated office beyond, and she stepped inside without hesitation.
The publican turned with a cry at our abrupt entrance and pulled a pistol, raising it clumsily. Mercy sidestepped around him and brought down the butt of her gun into his elbow ditch. His aim was thrown toward the ceiling, and before he could get a shot off, she’d grabbed his wrist and disarmed him.
“Fucking annoying,” she declared as I darted forward.
I pressed the barrel of my gun against the publican’s head, ready to shoot the stupid thing off if he tried anything.
“Who the fuck are you?” he spat, his eyes crossing as they fixed onto the gun that was jammed against his temple.
“None of your fucking business,” I said.
His hand shot up to knock away my gun, and with an annoyed groan, I swung back the other way, my left fist connecting with his pudgy
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