A/N: I know Beverley's a bit of a ditz but I wanted something a little deadlier for this really lovely character.
St Trinians is a rather wonderful place to hide. Beverley had found that it was quite a good place for the authorities to lose you.
She was personally an alumnus of the fine school, and like Kelly Jones she left the school at the top of her classes with a very colourful adventure ahead of her.
Unlike Kelly Jones, Beverley, who was then known as Veronika Kitchkov was not inducted into the British Intelligence – she was recruited by a ruthless mercenary gang. All the rudimentary skills she had developed at school were honed by her new employers and she became very good at her job. The CIA were even trying to hire her at one point. She had a range of skills from seduction to poisoning at her disposal. She could stage the perfect accident and she could pin many a murder on another so convincingly cases had never been re-opened or questioned.
Her boss was an American known only as EJ, and even during her rookie years, she brought herself to his attention. He would later admit that her knack for making a hit look like a suicide was incredible. Veronika was talented. Too talented it would seem.
Barely six years into what should have been a long and illustrious career, more and more rivals were taking shots at her. Her handler, Smithy was almost executed for her and after she roared through and saved his arse, the pair devised a plan.
They had realised that while they were a close band of mercenaries, if there was little honour between thieves there was no honour amongst murderers. The specifics of each mission they were ambushed during was not knowledge known outside of their team. This meant someone was leaking information to rivals, letting contracts go unfulfilled. Veronika had her suspicions, though she would never voice them – each time she messed up there was a clean-up team to make sure the hit was still made. No-one liked EJ when he lost money.
But because of this mutiny within their ranks, Veronika and Smithy decided they had to get her out. Actually Veronika was originally intent on torturing team members until they fessed up while Smithy opted for getting her out of the game. It only changed after Smithy dragged her from a burning building after she was duct-taped to old fuel tanks. Then she was scared and realised she had to escape while she still had all four limbs.
They had to kill her off.
Her car was to plunge from the road in a desolate stretch in Russia, while she was on her way to the hit EJ had just secured. All the while, she would be hiking to a cabin six miles from her death spot where she would transform from her brunette self to opt for a look her classmates had called 'Essex Blonde'. Her parents were Russian mobsters but she had spent her life in England, moving from swanky London houses to the more sedate suburbs of Essex – her education ensured she could slip on a mask like other women tried on dresses.
From the cabin, an associate would collect her and the pair would leave EJ and unfortunately Smithy behind. That's the part that upset Veronika the most; Smithy had almost died for her, and she owed him a few times over but he was adamant they would cut off all communications.
The actual 'death' couldn't have gone better even if Smithy had driven the car off the edge himself (which he was tempted to do). The unfortunately dead woman that had been stuffed behind the driver's seat had slumped forward as the car span out of control. It rammed the barrier at full speed, clipping the steel edge, which promptly ignited the fuel tank. The burning wreck had plunged into the ravine below, lighting the gully before slamming into the fast moving waters.
The body was a mass of ash and burnt bone, and was swept into the river below as the car was rolled by the currents. By the time the emergency services found it four days later, there wasn't enough left that could be salvaged for a DNA test. Smithy told EJ five days after the crash that Veronika hadn't touched in and conclusions were drawn. EJ was mad as hell to have lost one of his best agents, he was infuriated when a mushroomed bullet was found lodged into the car interior. His time as a master mercenary taught him a lot about trajectory and as far as he was aware, someone had shot Veronika, causing her to spin out of control.
Smithy was almost relieved at the final assassination. The culprit thought they had put an end to Veronika and they wouldn't go looking for her. Veronika Kitchkov was dead in name, but in spirit… well that was a different story.
"Are you ready to go Beverly?" The mother voice made the newly blonde woman smile to herself. Her associate was her old English teacher from St Trinians. Camilla Fritton had always been her mentor. As she was to understand it, Miss Fritton was now Headmistress, having taken over from old Miss Alistair. Fritton had offered a home for her foreseeable future and a career.
"I am ready."Her faint lilting accent had gone, but Camilla still frowned at her.
"I'm ready. Essex girls rarely enunciate and they are not ones for elocution Beverly." She reprimanded as she opened the cabin door. "Buggeration it's cold." She shivered before making her way out to the enclosed snow mobile she'd hired for this venture.
"Back to England." Beverly sighed. She touched the note she had left to Smithy one last time and closed the door firmly behind, the cold barely bothering her as she trudged to the snow mobile.
A few years later
"Make your mind up." Beverly sat down with tea after the day's classes.
"What do you mean?" Camilla accepted the steaming mug with a sharp look.
"Well you first you tell me to roughen my speech then that English teacher today that turned up, well you reprimanded me for a perfect piece of Essex slang." Beverly raised one eyebrow as her hands wrapped around the cup.
"Well it's vulgar to me but it has been five years. I think you can be a little more educated now…" Camilla sighed, closing her eyes and wincing at the pain in her knee. "You're a St Trinian alumnus, I expect better from my girls." She winked and Beverly smiled wryly. Old Cammy always had a knack of making her smile and it hadn't changed now.