Passport - Part Six by Virginia Hainsworth

Viktor’s driving was erratic, to say the least, and he refused to answer any of Jack’s questions. He just said that he was just being paid to take her somewhere, to her mother.  She kept repeating the word over and over in her mind. Her mother.

   After about fifteen minutes, Viktor pulled up outside an apartment block in the suburbs of Budapest.

   “Number 471, second floor, apartment 5b,” he said brusquely. He drove off quickly as soon as Jack stepped out onto the pavement.

   She attempted to hide her nerves by knocking firmly on the door of apartment 5b.

   The door was answered by an attractive, elegantly dressed woman of about 60. The woman stared briefly and then said, in an Eastern European accent, “Jacqueline? Thank you for coming all this way. Please come in.”

   “Everyone calls me Jack. And you are?”

   “Martuska. It is good to meet you. I am sorry for the mystery surrounding all of this, but I will explain.”

   Martuska led Jack into a sparsely furnished sitting room and offered her some refreshments, which she declined.

   “I don’t want to appear rude, Martuska but you will forgive my impatience. Can you tell me why a man known only to me as Stanley invited me to come all the way to Budapest to see a total stranger called KT, who is now ‘no longer available’, and a woman who is supposed to be my mother. Your explanation had better be a good one. I am not into detective stories.”

    Martuska’s sad smile softened Jack’s stony expression a little.

   “Jack, I understand that you are confused. And perhaps a little annoyed, so I will be brief.  I hope you will bear with me by listening to what I have to say and then you may ask me as many questions as you would like. I appreciate that some of what I am about to say may come as a shock to you.”

   “I’m all ears.” Jack immediately regretted the sarcasm in her voice.

   “During 1987, I had a relationship with a man I knew as Henry Leadbetter. I knew that was not his real name, but we were colleagues in Budapest, working for, shall we say, a clandestine government organisation.”

   Jack couldn’t help interrupting. “Henry Leadbetter. The name on my father’s hidden passport.”

   “Ah. You found a passport. That was careless of him. Henry returned to England in 1987 and I never saw or heard from him after that. That was the nature of the business we were in. I suspected he had a wife and baby back home. Shortly after he left, I discovered that I was pregnant with his child.”

   Jack felt her jaw dropping slightly. Everything she thought she knew about her father was fading into the background as she stared at this woman and suddenly saw her own features looking back at her. She vowed not to interrupt Martuska again but her thoughts and emotions were racing, colliding with each other.

   Martuska continued. “Even if I could have contacted Henry, I wouldn’t have. Our relationship always took second place to our work. We both knew that. Your father was a professional of the highest order.  My, well I suppose you could say ‘boss’ at the time was Konstantin Torok – KT as he has always been known. He helped me during that difficult time and I made him swear that if he ever came across Henry again, he would not let him know.”

   Martuska paused and took a deep breath in. Despite her shock at the revelations, Jack felt for her and could see how difficult this must have been. And must still be.

   “You were born the following year. I made the decision to have you adopted. A decision I have regretted ever since. By this time, KT and I were married. He wanted me to keep you and pass you off as his child but I could not do that. I will explain why, later. Anyway, KT made arrangements for your adoption and we agreed that I would never know any details. And I didn’t. Until recently. KT kept his word and didn’t let Henry know of your existence. However, he did manage to make sure that Henry - James Fincham, your father- was the one who adopted you. Because of the nature of our work, KT must have used his contacts to fix it. Please don’t think ill of your father. He never knew that you were his real daughter.”

   Jack had listened long enough without interjection. “I knew that I was adopted but I always thought of my father and and my,” she paused, “mother as my real parents and so it seemed like a betrayal of their love to try to trace my birth parents. So dad was my real father after all. Only he never knew. And, he was a….”

   “An MI6 agent, yes. And I was one of his contacts in Budapest.”
   “I need time to try to absorb all of this. But, tell me, why now? How did you come to know who I was?” Jack felt her own voice quivering but resolved not to slow the conversation down.

   “For some reason that he wouldn’t say, KT decided recently to tell me what he knew.  Something must have prompted this. He got to know that your father had passed, maybe that was it. He thought that now would be a good time to make contact.”

   “So where is KT now?”

   “He should have been here but he took a phone call this morning and left the apartment in a hurry without explaining. He hasn’t returned. Or called. That is most unlike him. Something is wrong. He really wanted to be here. I am very worried. But I didn’t want to make you wait.”

   Jack suddenly felt exhausted. This was all too much to take in. She didn’t know how to respond.

   “There is one more thing.” Martuska spoke more slowly this time.

   “Surely not.” Jack whispered.

   “Yes. One of the reasons I didn’t keep you and decided to have you adopted was that…….well, there wasn’t just you. Jack, you have a twin brother.”

Passport - Part Five by Dave Rigby

It was her first time in Budapest, or any other Eastern European city for that matter. Stanley had advised her where to stay and given her details of how to make contact with KT. The hotel was in Buda, five stars. She was already spending the money she was yet to receive for the bureau.
   It took her two attempts to get through. KT was deep-voiced and luckily spoke good English. He confirmed the location of their rendezvous. In the taxi, she was surprised by her complete lack of nerves. From what Stanley had said, her father had led at least two lives and here she was about to dive into one of them. He’d briefed her on what to say, what to ask and what not to say. And it had felt perfectly natural taking all this on board. She was a florist, albeit an upmarket one, and yet here she was in a Hungarian taxi slowly moving through morning rush hour traffic to meet a man Stanley had described as a spy.

   The goulash in the small local restaurant the previous evening hadn’t been an adventurous choice, but with a bottle of Bulls Blood it had gone down very well. Jack was already getting a taste for the city.

   The taxi driver, unsure about the exact location of the rendezvous, had to stop a couple of times to ask directions, but eventually he pulled up outside what sounded like a dog refuge. Jack paid him and stood, puzzled, on the pavement. A tall man, in his late 50s, she judged, emerged from the entrance to the long low building from which a hundred different barks were emerging.

   “KT?" she asked. 

   “No, I’m sorry. He’s not available. My name’s Viktor. You need to come with me.” It sounded more like an order than a request and for the first time she felt unsettled. Still it was broad daylight, she was in the middle of a European capital and she had her mobile. She could call for help if needs be.

   He led her to a large BMW.

   “Where are we going?” she asked.

   “We’re going to meet your mother,” Viktor replied as they crossed the bridge over the Danube.

Passport - Part Four by Yvonne Witter

Martuska knew that she was being followed but kept her stride with her head held high. When she heard the car pulling up alongside her, she quickly jumped in and it sped off. She turned to see in the distance the exasperation on their faces, and she smiled ruefully. Again, she had allowed her feelings to override her better judgement and compromise her position. Becoming so emotionally invested in Henry was never a sane idea.

“I thought I was supposed to meet you at the Water Tower” she said nervously

“There has been a change of plans” he replied without meeting her gaze, his jaw tightening as he meandered through the beautiful park, speeding past the tranquil water fountain.

Jack couldn’t believe the valuation that Mr Gregory had put on the bureau. It was a provisional figure but even so she had to stop herself gasping down the phone. Even a quarter share would set her up nicely, but maybe there’d be a way of getting a bigger share.

No sooner had she finished the call when the doorbell rang. A man wearing a homburg stood there – a whiff of cologne, a buttonhole and impeccable manners. Please call me Stanley. He’d read in the press about her father’s death and had come to give her news.

She explained about her father’s house being cleared. Most of his belongings had been removed but there were still two chairs and a kettle in the kitchen. Over mugs of tea she listened to his news. Had she not already discovered her father’s passport it would all have come as a total shock. It sounded to her like a script from an over-written 1970’s cold war film.

“I thought it important to give you some background, my dear, because I also have a message for you, a request that you to travel to Hungary, to meet a man known as KT.”

Passport - Part Three by Jo Cameron-Symes

James made his way back to the table and Martuska fumbled with the paper bag. It slipped from her grasp and upended all of the contents by James's feet. 

   He let out a weary sigh.

  Full of pure rage she stood up and slapped him hard across the face.
  "I have no time for womanisers, Henry. No time at all," she said then turned to leave but he grabbed her arm.
  "They're for my niece," he said.
   Martuska stared at him hard as if to see whether he was lying. He didn't blink once.
   She sat down and James let his arm slide down hers till he held her hand which he brought to his mouth to kiss.
   "I'd never betray you like that. You must believe me," he said, letting go of her hand.
   Martuska looked pensive, and clutched her handbag firmly to her chest. She waited, unsure of what to believe. He continued to openly stare at her, willing her to trust him.
   "Alright, Henry. I believe you," she said though she still looked slightly wary.

   James looked across and noticed that Stan had crept back from the Gents and was now hiding behind a pillar in the foyer. He peered out briefly at James and smiled at him. James threw him a warning look and he stood back behind the pillar, concealed once more.
  James smiled warmly at Martuska.
   "I think we need to celebrate," he said and he clicked his fingers for the barman. "A bottle of your finest champagne Sir, at once," he said to Martuska's delight.
   "Champagne, Henry! You do spoil me!"
   "How long has it been do you think, since you last had premium quality champagne?"
   "I can hardly remember. It must have been abroad though, I've never drunk it in this country. It's hard to get hold of."
   "If you want the decent stuff, you need to have connections," James said.
   "And do you?! " she asked.
   "What?" He replied.
   "Have good connections?" she said, probing.
   "Being a success such as myself, one can't help but accumulate such things. Fine items help deals be brokered. Very important stuff quality champagne. I couldn’t live without it."
   The barman brought over the bottle and two glasses which he poured. Martuska closed her eyes and took a long sip.
   "It's like pure velvet, Henry! Absolutely divine!"
   The barman came over again.
   "Everything alright?" James asked.
   "Yes,” he replied turning to Martuska.      “Madame," he said, "I have an urgent message for you." He handed Martuska a folder piece of paper. She unfolded it to read:

'Meet me at the top of The Water Tower at 1pm. Entire mission is at stake. We have a mole. Make sure you're not followed and don't be late. - KT'

   She gasped.
   "Bad news?" James asked .
   "Yes. Unfortunately my mother's been taken ill. I can't stay much longer Henry, she lives halfway across the country. I must get going."
   "Nothing serious I hope?"
   "Yes, well, I won't know till I get there."
   "I'll give you a lift to the station. Just wait a second while I fetch the car keys."
   "No, that's quite alright. I need to get home to pack first."
   "Well then I'll take you home," he said. "I insist."
   "No," she said firmly. "To be honest I just need some time alone to think, but thank you for the offer."
    She adjusted her coat and with a wafting fragrant cloud of perfume she was gone. Stan hid back behind a pillar then he and James began to follow her.