Those doubts and uncertainties had not gone away when Sergei left the house to go into Reading the next morning. Almost as soon as he got to the railway station, he felt that something was wrong. Both the car park at the station and the platforms were almost empty.

It was only after a glance at his phone that he realised that it was Saturday. For a second, he hesitated, but something made him carry on. He could work all day in the office, and not have to watch out for 'her' or her friends in the area around the office.

He strode onto the platform, pleased with himself for doing something different for a change.

His good mood didn’t last as one of the two ‘goons’ who had followed him before was hanging around at the exit to the station in Reading. He was pretending to read a newspaper while watching people heading for the town centre.

Sergei shook his head and exited the station by the Caversham exit. A ten-minute walk saw him arrive at his office, with no sign of the man or anyone else following him.

The branch of Pierre's that he normally used was closed on Saturday, so he carried on walking and headed for the branch in St Mary's Butts. As it was a reasonably nice day, so he sat in the nearby churchyard to eat his breakfast and drink his morning coffee. It was then that he saw a new face or at least a new face amongst those who had been following him. This time, it was a young woman with a hair full of dreadlocks who was pushing a shopping cart filled with ‘stuff’. He'd always thought that that hairstyle looked silly on white women, but hey, there is no accounting for taste.

He’d seen her on the train from Wokingham earlier strangely without the cart, and was sure that she'd followed him from the station unless she'd guessed where he was going to go before heading into his office. Going to the same sandwich shop day after day was a bit of a giveaway, but to Sergei, it was all part of his plan to appear to be going about his business in a normal manner.

Sergei opened up his phone and checked the security of the office. No video files had been uploaded to the cloud. The system at his home was likewise 'all clear'. That could only mean that 'Uncle Vanya' was upping the pressure. It was time to act or at least start things in motion that would lead to one or both of them, suffering a premature end of their careers.

He made a decision just as he finished his coffee. He would go home tail or no tail. Then, he'd take his van out for the day. He was in no doubt that he could lose any tail, provided he swept the van for bugs beforehand.

His mind was even more unsettled than it had been before he had come to Reading as he headed for the train to Wokingham. He was not used to an adversary like her. It was time to get Sam's team ready for action. He also had to make a few phone calls, but he would not do that in this area. He'd relished the virtual freedom that his recent trip to Swindon had given him. As he boarded his train, he saw an advert for 'Bicester Shopping Village’ on the platform. Something in that ad, tickled a memory. While he waited for the train to leave, he searched for a bit more information. Sure enough, there was a railway station close by with a large car park. It operated as a 'Park and Ride' for those going to Oxford or London during the week. That would be perfect for his new plan for the day.

---

A little after 11:30, Sergei parked the van in the ‘Park and Ride’ car park, after waiting in a queue for almost 10 minutes, he paid the parking fee and walked to the station itself. He declined the many signs saying ‘Pay by Phone’. His phones were all PAYG and the last thing he wanted was for his credit to run out at the wrong time.
He'd already bought a return to London using an app loaded onto his phone while he waited to pay for the parking. That way, unless the phone was loaded with a pretty sophisticated bug, no one other than himself knew exactly where he was going. He’d arranged a visit to an old friend with a phone call when he filled the van up with fuel on his way out of Reading.

Sergei waited for the next train going to London. He was pleased that no one else was waiting to board that particular train. So far, he’d eluded any tail since he’d left the station in Wokingham.

His final destination was not London but High Wycombe. His old friend, would be waiting in a car park near the railway station for him to arrive. The success or failure of the whole endeavour relied upon what would happen in the next three to five days. He thanked himself to have the wits to buy yet another a second-hand phone, and a new and as yet unused SIM card a few days earlier. That phone had never been switched on other than to check the network connection. If his main phone had been hacked, then he was certain that this one was clean. He’d switched the old phone off and left it in his van at the park and ride. He’d lasted this long in the business because of his care and caution, despite a few recent lapses. He knew from personal experience just how easy it was to clone a phone given time and the right equipment. Being careful was back as ‘Job 1’ and he was not going to change that now.

The London train arrived and his heart sank at how busy it was. To his relief, most of the passengers got off there, so he assumed that they were tourists going to the Shopping Village. He boarded the now much quieter train and quickly found a double seat to himself for the journey to High Wycombe.

The relatively short journey allowed him to plan much of his next move. He had to admire his adversary for her skill at nearly luring him into a pretty cool trap. To pretend to be the planned target was risky, and certainly unusual. If he'd not followed his usual course of action for a job and gone completely off script and done a quick hit-and-run job, then she’d be long dead by now. That told him that she’d been not only watching him for a while but planning this to get the extra resources she’d need to spring the trap. That fact alone meant that he had to approach this case in an entirely different way. He hoped that the meeting in Wycombe would help him work out the final details of what way that would be.

---

“Hello Naomi, long time no see.”

Naomi Younger, his contact, was a former MI6 intelligence officer. She'd worked for the spooks all her working life before retiring some ten years before. Their paths had crossed purely by accident when he was on a job in Cape Town. Naomi had been there on holiday when he needed a ride in a hurry. Naomi had been driving the car he chose to temporarily hijack that day.

She’d sussed him out before they’d gone ten miles up the coast. He was wearing a disguise that had fooled most people, but she'd seen straight through it. Instead of turning him in, she'd helped him complete the assignment. Something between them had made them connect. After all, who would suspect a grey-haired lady on holiday as being an accomplice to an assassination? Since that first encounter, Naomi had helped him out on two jobs in return for a nice fat fee. He expected this to be the same.

It was only much later that what had connected them came to the surface. From then on, they were best friends.

“Same here Sergei. I must say that life on an island suits you.”

He smiled back at her as she led them towards her car.

“I was pleasantly surprised to get your call. I was just about to go out but… your offer was too good to refuse… certainly over a trip to a packed Tesco’s on a Saturday afternoon.”

Both of them laughed as they reached her car.

---

Back at her home, Naomi had prepared some sandwiches, and a pot of tea was soon brewing. This was part of what Sergei liked about Naomi. First things first, meaning hospitality, was as important to her as it was to him.

After pouring the tea, Naomi sat back and said,
“Ok, you got my interest. How can I help you?”

Sergei opened his wallet and pulled out a sheet of paper. On it, he'd written the names of 'her' victims as had been supplied by 'Sam'.

“I need all there is to know about how and why these people were killed.”

Naomi read the list. Most of the names were unknown to her. One stood out.
“This one, Juan Fernandez, was from memory, one of our local assets in Angola. Are you saying that this woman killed all these?”

“I am.”

“Who supplied this list? Don’t tell me, Sam?”

“He did. I promised him the clean-up funds for his help. He wants her off his patch.”

“It figures. Then, he could go to ‘6’ and inform them of her elimination and they’d owe him a big favour. ‘6’ does not take kindly to its assets being removed. With security service agents, it is part of the job, but those minor cogs in their machine? No way. They have to be seen to be keeping an eye out for assets like Mr Fernandez.”

Naomi folded up the paper and put it on the table.
“Now Sergei, you know what comes next?”

He nodded.
“I do. To date, I have not accepted any jobs here. This is also my last job. I don’t have the heart for it any longer. I didn’t really have much choice with this one.”

She smiled.
“That is good to know. As for the second thing, your whole demeanour screams I don’t want to do this any longer.”

“I told Sam the same thing when we me. He smiled back at me. He’d come to exactly that conclusion. That’s why he agreed to help me.”

“So? What is your cunning plan to rid the world of this blot on the landscape?”

Sergei outlined his plan. Naomi refrained from commenting until he’d finished.

Her first reaction was to shake her head.
“That is awfully high risk, isn’t it?”

“I know, that’s why I am going to get Sam to have my back. If I fail then he has a perfect reason to move in and deal with her.”

“True and knowing Sam as I do, he’d jump at the chance. Have you told him about the plan yet?”

"No. I wanted to run it past you and …?"

"And If I gave you the ok, get you some curare perhaps?"

“I’m sure that you know someone who knows someone who knows someone who has access to it?”

"I do. It will take me a few days, but it can be arranged both to get it and to deliver it to you."

“Thanks Naomi.”

“Don’t thank me yet. The only thanks I’ll need is when you make her disappear that you think of me in your prayers.”

Sergei smiled.
He knew exactly what Naomi meant by ‘prayers’. It meant that he was to give thanks to all those who helped make the mission a success but remained in the background.

“I won’t forget.”

“Good. Now eat up. You will need all your strength to make this work. I really don’t envy you in this fight. Women can be such unpredictable beasts.”

He smiled.
“I know. That’s where I’m going when I retire.”

Naomi grinned.
“At last.”

"Ok, don't rub it in. I know that I have been promising this for a long time, but this operation has finally forced me to make up my mind.”

“Well, don’t forget to come and visit when you have transitioned. It is a lot easier these days, than when I did it. I had to leave ‘6’ for starters. They thought that I was a security risk and all that crap. Things are a little different now thankfully.

“I will Naomi and thanks for the help.”

Sergei put an envelope on the table. Naomi nodded. She knew what it contained and that if Sergei's mission was successful, a lot more would be forthcoming. That was how they had worked for the past four years. She was just sad that this was likely to be the end of their working relationship, but their personal friendship would always survive. He'd been there for her when she needed help. Most of her family had given her the very cold shoulder over her transition and had broken off all contact with her despite her being awarded a CBE for services to Government a year after she had retired. Families the world over are strange beasts and Sergei had become one of her much-reduced family circle when she’d been at her most vulnerable.

---

[The following Monday]
Sergei looked out at the rain streaming down the window of the office. He was no nearer finding a solution to what happens after the 'takedown'. There was the river Thames, but dead bodies and water generally don't stay together very long, especially in a sometimes fast-flowing river like the Thames in winter.

Burying a body so that it would not, no make that never be found is a big job for one person. A JCB would help but could be traced. He didn’t fancy trying to dig a grave that wasn’t just a shallow one. Burning is a smelly and messy process as is trying to dissolve a corpse in acid or alkaline. Then you have to dispose of the acid or alkaline after the job is done and dusted, so they were quickly ruled out as possible options.

At that moment, top of his list was dumping the body in the middle of the Channel with a concrete waistcoat seemed to be very attractive but probably unachievable, but even so, he racked his brains for another option and singularly failed to get any ideas.

Sergei decided to get out of the office even if it was pretty awful outside. As he passed the old Town Hall, he saw a sign promoting an event for children the following weekend at the Public Library. He'd gone a good 10 yards past the sign before it registered. He cursed himself for not thinking of that. He needed a diversion, and what better place to find it than in a Library and a big plus was that it would be dry inside?

He soon found the library and walked inside brushing the excess water off his coat. Almost immediately, he collided with a trolley loaded with books.

“Sorry, let me move that,” said an Assistant as she came around a counter.

He noticed a book on the top of a pile. For some reason, the title registered.

“Excuse me,” he said putting on a Russian accent and picking up the book.
“What is a narrow boat?”

The title of the book was ‘Narrow Boat’.

“I think I have seen some on the river?”

The assistant hesitated before answering.
“I honestly don’t know for certain. Why don’t you follow me to the Transport section? I’m going to put this back on the shelf. I’m sure that there will be an answer to your question there.”

He smiled.
“Thank you. Anything to get out of the rain for an hour. This country is so damp.”

She chuckled and pushed the cart deeper into the library. A few minutes later she left him to browse the shelves. After selecting a couple of volumes, he sat down to look at them.

The 'Narrow Boat' book proved to be inspirational. He'd seen boats going up and down the rivers and even the odd canal in his travels around the UK but the picture that the book painted of the waterways at the end of WW2 was very different. Many canals had been abandoned for years and were unnavigable. A lot of that was down to a lack of maintenance before and during the war. He read about the Thames and Severn Canal and how the collapse of a Tunnel had forced it to cease operations. Now, much of the canal was abandoned unlike the nearby Kennet and Avon Canal that ran through Reading not many metres from where he sat reading the book.

As he read more about the canal network, an idea began to form in his mind. As it became clearer, he put all the books back on the shelves apart from 'Narrow Boat', and went in search of some maps.

Twenty minutes later, he had a possible solution to his problem. After returning the maps and the book to their proper places, he headed for the exit. As he passed the counter by the door, the same assistant asked,
“Did you find out the difference?”

Sergei stopped and smiled at the young lady.
“I did. You were very helpful indeed. Thank you.”

She smiled back as he walked out of the door.

---

Although Sergei had a possible solution to his problem of making her disappear, he still needed to check it out in detail. Once again, his French-registered van could prove to be a liability. He needed some alternative wheels for a reconnaissance trip. His mind was so focussed on that, that he nearly stepped out into the road in front of a white van.

A loud beep on its horn brought him back to reality. He didn’t go back to the office instead, he headed for the railway station and home.

As he neared his temporary home, he saw a white van not that dissimilar to the one that had nearly run him down in Reading being unloaded outside a nearby house. On the side of the vehicle, was the name of a car and van hire company. He smiled and went into his home knowing how he could make a visit to the area of the canal and not stand out like a sore thumb in a French registered vehicle.

---

[two days later]
Sergei returned from his visit to the long-abandoned Thames and Severn Canal late in the evening. He’d gone by train to Swindon where he’d rented a car for the day. No one followed him when he’d changed trains at Reading. His usual shadow was waiting outside the station for someone who wasn’t going to appear for at least another 12 hours.

His visit proved very fruitful, apart from going down a few dead ends because ‘Mr Google’ was so badly wrong. One such dead end resulted in him being in a field with a Bull and some Cows. Some of the sections of the canal were almost invisible, and others were deep in a heavily wooded cutting. Nevertheless, he actually enjoyed the day out in the country and to finally have a solution to his problem was a huge bonus.

An email from Naomi was waiting for him when he returned to his home in Wokingham. It informed him that his order would be delivered the next day. That nicely rounded off a very good day. His plan to deal with ‘Uncle Vanya’ was beginning to come together.

[to be continued]

JCB : A backhoe digger produced in the UK (and elsewhere by the JCB company).