The Traitor's Story

Only once before had the precaution borne fruit. A car had followed them to her parents’ house, but disappeared thereafter. He’d alerted Ed, but they’d already had an apology from the CIA who, for reasons they didn’t share, had been keeping an eye on Sofi’s colleague, the Saab’s owner.

Today was the second time. A black BMW tailed them from the city, disappearing just before they reached her parents’ house on the shore. The best-case scenario, discounting coincidence, was that Karasek was hoping Finn would lead him to the girl without needing to part with any money. After that came the Russians, Americans, or the Estonians themselves, wondering what was going on. Worst case was that he was being tailed by his own people—worst case because it suggested there was much more to this operation than he’d been given to believe.

Sofi’s father didn’t speak English but, as always, greeted Finn enthusiastically and talked to him in Estonian. Sofi translated in snatches—odd words and phrases rather than full sentences. She translated even less of Finn’s replies, but her father didn’t seem to mind.

Her mother was of Russian origin but was a translator, and spoke fluent English and French. She’d worked for the Estonian government but was a freelancer for publishing houses now, and loved talking to Finn about the latest British novels.

Lunch was inevitably relaxed and entertaining, and the house had a good family atmosphere, even though her parents had only moved there a few years earlier—Sofi had been brought up in the city. It was a house that had the feel and the smell of the sea about it, open and light even in the winter, and he couldn’t help but imagine children running around here—their children maybe.

After lunch, Finn and Sofi walked on the beach and he said, “If I stay . . .”

“If you stay? I thought you’d decided.”

He laughed and felt more confident, because he could see a way now.

“I am staying. I was just thinking, we could move out here.”

“With my parents?”

As much as she loved them, the thought seemed alarming to her.

“Why not? We get along okay.” He laughed, giving away that he was teasing her, then said, “I meant we could get a place out on the coast—somewhere like this, not necessarily right here.”

“Don’t you like Tallinn?”

“I love Tallinn, and we’d be within driving distance. It’s just, I was thinking about what you said, about bumping into old colleagues. I’d rather be away from all that. And you know, if we were maybe, at some point, thinking about having a family.” She smiled. “I’m not saying just yet, but if we were, this would be a great place, all this light and space, and the air.”

She stopped and turned, kissing him then holding on to him, nestling her head against his shoulder. He put his arms around her, conscious of the biting cold now that he had the warmth of her body against his, wanting to be lost in that warmth, but at the same time he looked along the dunes for signs of someone watching them. There were two people farther along the beach with a dog, but that was all.

When Sofi pulled away, she looked up at him again and said, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Why?”

“I just wondered—all this talk of getting out of Tallinn, families. And you think somebody followed us out here.”

“How do you know?”

She frowned. “Because I know you too well. You’re very discreet, but I still know you too well. And I saw it too, a black car.”

He nodded, smiling as he said, “It’s almost certainly nothing to worry about.”

“The lady who came to see you—it has nothing to do with that?”

She was rattled, perhaps, because she’d never been so explicit before. He took hold of her arms and said, “No, and I’m not going to be working for them much longer anyway. Look, this week I’ll be busy, I’ll have a lot to do, but it’s . . .” He still couldn’t bring himself to be indiscreet, even with Sofi. “It’s routine, and I don’t want you imagining it’s something else.”

“A car followed us.”

“Maybe. But it means nothing.”

He held her again, his cheek against hers, the touch of her skin relaxing him like nothing else could, and then he turned and they kissed and he no longer cared who might be watching them.

It was late afternoon by the time they headed home. They hadn’t been driving long before Finn spotted the BMW. He didn’t react, but a few moments later Sofi glanced in her rearview mirror.

“How long have they been following us?”

“I noticed them a few minutes ago.”

She looked at him, snatched glimpses whilst keeping her eyes on the road ahead, and said, “What do they want?”

“To see where I’m going, I imagine.” He shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. It’s nothing unusual, and think of those poor guys, sitting in that car for the last few hours waiting for us to reappear.”

“What if they’re following me?” He didn’t respond and she glanced at him again. “I’ve been working on some sensitive stories lately—so what if they’re following me?”

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