Angel and the Assassin

handed him the glass. Kael downed the excellent Scottish
    whisky in one swallow and handed the glass back as if Conran were a waiter.
    Conran hesitated only a second before taking the glass. He looked up into
    Kael‟s eyes. “Would you like another?”
    “No.”
    So that was it. Conran stood closer than he normally did. His pupils were
    dilated, his breathing uneven. An ordinary person would never notice such small

    4
    Fyn Alexander

    physiological changes, but Kael had been trained to notice everything, and he had
    an aptitude for observation.
    He wants me to fuck him. He’s gagging for it.
    “You will fly to Vienna this evening. Go to the Pension Neuer Markt—it‟s near
    St. Stephen‟s Cathedral, room twelve—and get rid of the occupant, Rikard
    Weirstein. There will be no cleanup this time. The body needs to be found, so be
    careful.”
    “I‟m always careful. That‟s why I‟m so good. What‟s he done?” Kael did not
    care, but he was amused by the conversation and the effect he was having on
    Conran.
    “Are you becoming sentimental about your targets, Saunders, wanting to know
    if they deserve what they get?”
    “You just told me details about the other one. That was a first.” Kael smiled,
    but not at Conran; he looked out of the window. The day he started caring about the
    people he killed was the day he would hand in his weapons, return to Cambridge for
    his master‟s degree, and go to work for the UN as a translator, which is what he had
    planned to do ten years ago, before a more lucrative and exciting offer came along
    with the Secret Intelligence Service, MI6.
    He turned to look at Conran. “I‟ll target your mother if you want me to. The
    only person in the world who I would not target is my own mother. Everyone else is
    fair game. Everyone.”
    Conran walked back to his desk and sat down. “You‟ll probably like Weirstein.
    He‟s quite handsome from what I‟ve heard.” Kael watched him but did not respond.
    “Is it true you‟re a homosexual, Saunders?”
    “I thought you knew everything about me.” Conran probably wanted to shock
    him with the question, to throw him off guard, but nothing threw Kael off guard.
    “You knew what I was like at school.”
    “I know you have sex with men, but I wondered if perhaps you were an
    opportunist where sex is concerned. That you took whatever was on offer, male or
    female. Do you like women?”
    “I love women,” Kael said. “I just don‟t want to have sex with them. What
    about yourself?”
    “I‟m married. I love my wife.”
    Kael crossed the carpet and stood very close to Conran. Leaning one hand on
    the desk, he looked down into Conran‟s pale, ordinary, yet quite pleasant face, and
    heard him swallow hard. Conran licked his lips, looking both nervous and aroused
    by Kael‟s proximity. Kael spoke softly. “I know that; it‟s irrelevant. Are you on
    offer?” Conran had had the hots for him for years, but this was the closest he had
    ever come to admitting it.
    “Yes,” he said very quietly, his cheeks growing pink.
    “I see.” Kael grinned as Conran fell into his trap. “If I find anyone who might
    be interested in a married submissive, I‟ll let you know. You‟re not my type.”

    Angel and the Assassin
    5

    Conran‟s cheeks turned from pink to bright red at the stinging dismissal. “You
    had better go. You will miss your plane.”
    Kael strode to the door and grabbed the handle, then turned to Conran. “Did
    you send for me today just to whore yourself out, or because you are genuinely
    concerned that I still love my job?” The smile had not left his face since seeing
    Conran shrink under his words.
    “As I told you, I call in all our operatives from time to time. It was your turn;
    that‟s all.”
    Kael laughed, unable to stop himself. “I won‟t feel special then.”
    “You were a bastard at school!” Conran turned away. “Everyone was terrified
    of you.”
    “I was such a bastard you knew I‟d be perfect for this job. It was you who
    recommended me for this, wasn‟t it? I was going to be a translator.”
    “Yes, it was me. I knew you were a cold-blooded killer the day I met you. You‟d
    have been wasted at the UN, and you would never have earned the kind of money
    you‟ve earned over the last ten years. You should be grateful to me; now get out!”
    With a mock salute, Kael left, leaving the door open behind him. He was still
    laughing as he walked down the corridor toward the lift.

    6
    Fyn