Birdcage

Chapter 6 Dane...

I didn't want to leave her. It took all I had to walk out of that door. I had to remember how I ended up there in the first place. I had to remember what I should be concentrating on and the importance behind it. I got it - I got the hard drive. It was a lot easier than I thought, but then again, those two goons had been left in charge of it. Adrik had left it in his coat, while the two of them sat in the restaurant drinking vodka, reading newspapers and eating plates of food brought out to them by the waitresses. I had to keep my cool when they both started touching one of the timid waitresses on the backside. The look of discomfort and repulsion on her face caused by their actions, but the inability to say anything out of fear- broke my heart. I just sat there and grit my teeth, biding my time. I knew it was in his coat pocket - I saw him flash it to Iev, before putting it back in there. I ate my food and drank my coffee, before slipping my hand in his coat where it was hung up, pretending to be interested in some bottles of booze for sale. That's when I saw her. She was just stood there, staring at me. I bloody shit myself. I was so close to getting out of there with what I needed and I was so worried about what she might say to blow my cover. But it worked out in the end. I even get to see her again. I don't know when it will be but at least I know she wants to.

All I can think about right now as I make my way to the agency is the 'almost kiss', the one that would have been real. The look of disappointment in her eyes when I told her the reason behind the first kiss blew me away. I felt so guilty, especially when there really was more to it. I wanted to kiss her, I could have just kept on going and found a way to slip the Russians, but I saw her and I couldn't help myself. If anything, I used them as an excuse to kiss her.

I get to the building we use as our headquarters. It's an inconspicuous building - just three terraced houses that the agency transformed into one building. It's on the outskirts of Kings Cross, on a dull street that looks like it's been coloured in grey. I could tell Gwen was eager for me to get there by the tone of her voice; even for a guy like me, she isn't a person you want to cross. I enter the building and say hello to a few people on the way in, avoiding too much eye contact with Amy- our administrator- because she has always shown me a bit too much attention. I stop to talk to Greg, my tech guy, who has also become a close friend. He's incredibly tall - over six foot - and built like a bean pole. He has sandy coloured hair, gelled into a comb over every day, a large nose and extremely prominent Adams apple. He is also ridiculously intelligent and he can hack any computer system on this planet. We are chalk and cheese but I think that's why we have clicked so well. Don't let his 'nerdish' appearance fool you either; he has a wicked sense of humour and frequently kicks my arse at a game of basketball.

I don't chat for long, because Gwen doesn't like to be kept waiting. So, I take the stairs up to the transformed attic, which is now an office for Gwen. She is a woman of high-quality taste, and while most of the building is out dated and a little run down, her space is definitely not. The floors are a varnished wood and the furniture inside is antique. The sofa and desk chair are made of real leather, and there is a white fur rug, that lays in the centre of the room. The walls are a dark grey, highlighted by brilliant white coving. Then, there is her pride and joy; a giant crystal chandelier, hanging right above her desk. The door is left slightly ajar, meaning I don't have to knock, and that she is expecting me. I still give it a light tap before walking in though. She is stood staring out of a huge, arched window, situated behind her desk. She doesn't turn around when I walk in, just turns her head enough that I can see the side of her face, and motions for me to sit down in one of the leather armchairs with a nod of the head.

"Have you got it?" she asks me simply, her America accent still strong even after years in the UK.

"I've got it. Acquired it this morning. What do you want to do with it now?" I reply, wanting to know what my next instructions are. Now that the job is done, I'm going to take a little time off, maybe spend some getting to know Lila.