Chal Schneemann leaned back in his chair and, for the first time in many days, relaxed. At least, he relaxed as much as he ever could while still on the job. Though the high-rise hotel he had chosen for his base of operations had excellent security of its own, he would not have felt completely safe without taking his own safety measures even if he had located in a suite next to one occupied by the president of the United States.
He had taken all his normal precautions. To the consternation of the staff at the front desk and in contrast to the sweeping views offered by other rooms, he had insisted on a suite as high up as possible but with the smallest windows available, a seeming contradiction in desires. In addition, the excellent blackout curtains that covered those windows were kept permanently drawn. He slept on the side of the bed as far from the bedroom window as possible. Working in the suite's other room, he positioned his chair so that it was not directly in line with either the covered window or the second door that opened onto the hallway. And still he never felt completely secure.
Such feelings had kept him alive in a profession where retirement was frequently prevented by means most violent.
Two portable miniunits sat on the desk. One held nothing but information. The other was utilized for nothing but box access. The only link between the two devices was wireless and highly proprietary. In the event some exceedingly clever outside entity managed to pierce box security and tried to access the storage unit, number two would die. Should it fail to respond properly and the unauthorized link be made, number one would die. The loss of equipment would not bother him. Both units could be replaced, and the information they contained was backed up elsewhere and not linked to anything except an old-fashioned lock and key.
While from the outside both units appeared relatively normal, their highly customized electronic viscera would have amazed any tech lucky enough to be granted a look at them. At considerable personal expense to their owner, they had been customized and put together with illegal and to a large extent military components. These enabled the pair, especially when operating in tandem, to perform operations no similar units outside a government entity ought to be able to do. Intercept and decode quantum-encrypted transmissions, for example.
The success of such a procedure, which might best be likened to electronic surgery, was what was presently enabling Chal to ease back against the body-conforming hotel chair. Hands clasped behind his head, he murmured a soft verbal command that instructed the box unit to replay what it had just observed and recorded.
The processing was not perfect. Constantly variable security receding during the process of transmission made it difficult for his interception software to keep up. There were skips and breaks. But enough had been snatched out of the ether to tell him what he needed to know.
He had been monitoring the communications of Sanjay Ghosh ever since he had just missed catching the shopkeeper himself outside his establishment. The tip-off that had allowed him to locate the shop had given him all he needed to penetrate the enterprise's relevant utility and track down Ghosh's communications signatures. He planned to use these to try and locate the shopkeeper for questioning, even though Ghosh had been smart enough not to return to his place of business or to his residence ever since Schneemann's all-too-brief personal encounter with Taneer Buthlahee.
But this was better. Much better.
To his delight, Ghosh had not only met again with the tracker's real quarry, the truant scientist, but had used the same personal communicator to make contact with the representative of a consortium that planned to furtively purchase the discovery that rightly belonged to Mr. Nayari's company. It was hard to run down the location of a mobile communicator that was active only for short periods at a time and whose owner kept moving around, but with luck and persistence it could be done.
How thoughtful, then, how kind of the simple shopkeeper to lend his compromised communicator to the real object of Chal's interest. And how considerate of the obstinate Mr. Buthlahee to provide specific instructions to his would-be buyer as to where and when the two of them should meet. Chal eyed his tandem electronics with satisfaction. Their cost had been astronomical-and worth every dollar. For the unique equipment, it was just as easy to intercept, capture, and down load video as audio. Already familiar with Buthlahee and Ghosh's appearance, he now also knew what the buyer Mr. Karlovy looked like, and had acquired a glimpse of Buthlahee's girlfriend as well. Another time, another assignment, he might have looked forward to a diversion, a bit of enforced dalliance with such an alluring creature, made all the spicier by having her paramour restrained nearby and forced to watch. Not this time. The stakes were too high. Sex, of whatever variety and fetish he preferred, could be indulged in later, with no risk and at far less expense.
In addition to himself, Buthlahee had spoken of being accompanied to tomorrow night's meeting place by hired protection to match what the buyer insisted on bringing along with him. If both sides adhered to their guarantees, that made four potential adversaries to deal with, two of them professionals. Possibly five, if the scientist's consort chose to join him, though she did not really figure into his calculations. For that matter, neither did the scientist or the buyer. Of those who planned to be in attendance, Chal knew he need only be concerned with the two pros.
Provided he got the drop on them, to employ an ancient cliché that was no less valid for its age, it should not be a problem. He could hire and bring along temporary help of his own, of course. There was enough time between now and tomorrow night to make the necessary arrangements. But with only two real antagonists to worry about, he did not think it necessary. He had dealt with and on at least one occasion dispatched twice that number. Surprise was the key to success in such situations. That should not be a problem. No one would be expecting a third party to put in an appearance, least of all the two bodyguards on hand for the occasion. He anticipated no difficulty.
While anticipating none, he would prepare for every possible eventuality. Obsession over detail was another character trait that had contributed mightily to his success and continued survival. Though always ready to extemporize, he never entered into a dangerous situation unprepared.
Unquestionably, a great deal of money was involved. Nayari had implied as much on more than one occasion. The buyer, Mr. Karlovy, had spoken circumspectly of a 'down payment' he was to hand over. As a matter of professional interest, Chal found himself speculating on the amount. After neutralizing the two bodyguards, he could easily steal it, of course. It never occurred to him to do so.
Once, early in his career, he had been hired to deliver a sum of cash to ransom the son of an important Malaysian businessman. With time on his hands until he was due to turn the money over, he had peeked inside the carbon-fiber container that had been handed to him. It had contained, as near as he could hurriedly calculate, between five and seven million U.S. dollars. Concluding his examination, he had closed and resealed the case, and had not so much as looked inside again.
Word swiftly made the relevant rounds about those in his line of work who reneged on their responsibilities. Five or seven million dollars would buy many things, but in a world linked by several modes of virtually instantaneous communication, it would not buy permanent anonymity. Recidivists in his profession inevitably tended to be found and terminated, often messily. Renege on his assignment, take the money and run, and he would be doing no more than switching places with the scientist Buthlahee. Ultimately, he would be found, and sooner or later his career as well as his life would be brought to an abrupt and brutal end by others of his own kind.
Besides, he always had and still continued to take pride in being the best at his work. While it would not win him the Nobel Prize, or land him on the front of
Unclasping his hands, he leaned forward and murmured instructions to the box unit. It took hardly a moment for it to generate a map, in relief and with accompanying reports on access routes, predicted weather, and assorted other pertinent factors, showing the exact location specified by Buthlahee for the clandestine meeting that was to take place at ten o'clock the following evening. Chal transferred it to his mated pocket unit and ran off a hardcopy as backup. Then he put both units in secure sleep mode, rose, and walked into the bedroom.
The lockable privacy closet held three sets of clothing, each hung equidistant from the other. One was for the street. One was for dining out in nice restaurants or attending meetings with individuals like Nayari. The third, a one-piece construct woven from special synthetics, could best be described as work clothes.
Whistling softly to himself, he removed the latter, hung it on the back of the bathroom door, and set about checking its pockets and specially embedded systems for gear that was not designed to aid in the execution of such mundane vocations as, say, plumbing or home electrical repair.
