forward. Mud, roots and leaves collected between my fingers before I came into contact with the cool, clammy bark of a tree. I moved very slowly round it. I heard Suzy behind me, swallowing a mouthful of saliva.
He was close now, moving his legs. I heard them scrape across the rotting leaves.
My face was getting attacked by whatever flew around here and ate skin. Not that it mattered at the moment. My whole being was focused on finding the target; even the pain in my leg had gone as I inched a little further.
He was so close I could hear him gulp with fear, then he moved his legs again and leaves rippled across my hand.
There was nothing to do but jump in that direction. My body fell clumsily on him and he screamed. My nose landed on the side of his face. He curled into a ball, begging and pleading as I got up on my knees. I didn’t know the language; I wasn’t listening.
Suzy was up behind me. ‘Where is he? Where is he?’
I got my right knee pushing down on the side of his head. His begging became louder.
‘Ssssh, it’s OK, it’s OK.’ My right hand went down and fell on to his sweat-soaked face. I kept hold of his head and held out my spare hand into the darkness. ‘Come to me, quick.’
She moved into me and I grabbed her, feeling my way up her arm. My fingers found the revolver and guided it down on to his head. ‘You’ve got it. I’ll hold him.’
I felt the muzzle digging into his skin as he sobbed and started to struggle. I wanted to get this over with. ‘You ready? I’ll let go on three . . . one, two, three.’
I released his head and pushed myself backwards, and in the same instant she squeezed the trigger. There was a bright flash and the sound seemed much louder than I knew it actually was.
‘Stay still, stay still. Got to make sure.’
I heard the hammer go back.
‘Wait, wait.’
I heard her feeling around for what was left of his head. There was another bright flash and loud bang. The smell of cordite hung between us, trapped by the canopy of leaves, and the pain in my leg returned with a vengeance.
‘So, how the fuck do we get out of here?’ Suzy sounded almost normal.
We were no more than ten metres or so into the rainforest, but we’d only got where we were by following the sound of the target. Getting out was something else.
‘Let’s just wait, calm down, see if we can hear the Lite Ace.’ I held my breath. Gradually, the ringing of the shots in my ears faded, and I came to hear the gentle ticking of its engine. It was easy enough to home in on. I felt about for my helmet, and we crawled out of the trees, hitting the road only three or four metres from the vehicle.
I could see Suzy’s blood-splattered face in the headlights. ‘What the fuck were you doing playing Spiderman?’ I inspected my leg as she did the same with her hand. ‘All you had to do was shoot them.’
‘By the time I got level they were already flapping to get out the side door. The wagon was rolling. I didn’t know what to do. Then I thought, Fuck it, just dive in.’ She was smiling: I could see a big grin in the red glow of the rear light. ‘Anyway, it’s done, isn’t it?’
She was right. ‘We need to get the wagon off the road and you need to clean up your face. The trees are too dense here to drive through – take it down to the Buddha junction, dump it out of sight as best you can, and I’ll follow you if the bike’s still OK. If not, we’re walking back.’
She got into the Lite Ace, engaged first gear with blood- and mud-covered gloves, got it back on to the road, and drove down to the junction. I went over to the grounded bike and hauled it upright. The bike’s clutch was twisted down so it faced the tarmac, but it was still in better nick than some of the machines we’d seen around town. The main thing was that it worked.
I waited at the top of the Buddha junction for Suzy, and as she came back up the hill and threw her leg over the saddle she leant forward. ‘Didn’t we do well? I think we deserve to go jet-skiing tomorrow, don’t you?’
The right side of my leg was raging so badly from the gravel grazes that I had to grit my teeth.
4
Washington DC
Friday 2 May, 07:04 hrs
It was a miserable day. The weather just couldn’t make up its mind – never quite raining but looking like it wanted to at any moment.
I walked along D Street just a couple of blocks south of the Library of Congress, on my way to meet George, moving as fast as I could while trying to sip from a lip-burning Starbucks. I’d got the metro from Crystal City, where I now lived in a large grey concrete apartment block that made me feel like a UN delegate. There was a Bosnian concierge in the daytime and a Croatian one at night. All the cleaning women seemed to be Russian and the superintendent was from Pakistan. They all understood English really well, until something needed repairing or cleaning. Especially the superintendent – every time I hassled him about the problem with my washer-dryer he went deaf.
I tested my Starbucks again. It had cooled down a little so I took a longer sip through the top cover. I’d been thinking that only George would call me into the office for seven in the morning, but apparently he wasn’t alone. The whole of DC seemed to be on an early start; the traffic was heavy already and plenty of people were walking purposefully past me in both directions, almost power walking, cell phones stuck to the sides of their heads so everyone knew they were doing really important stuff. Not that they needed the cells; their voices were loud enough to carry the message right across town.
I took another swig and checked my traser watch again as I kept moving. I should be on time. The mission in Penang had been simple enough – to kill the target once he’d handed over a box to the source, after prayer that same evening. But just as important, George had stressed, was that Suzy and I both had to see the source physically in control of the box – which must have been why he’d brought it round to the passenger door.
It was a shame about the target’s pickup. He was one of life’s unfortunates: wrong place, wrong time. It didn’t take a brain surgeon to figure out that whatever was in those bottles, it sure wasn’t wine, or even Ribena; I just hoped it had been worth him dying for.
The big problem facing Suzy and me afterwards was that we still had four days left of our package holiday. We couldn’t just pack up and take a scheduled flight home: everything had to look normal; we had to brass it out. We did a lot of the tourist sights rather than lying by the pool – I needed to keep my gravel-graze out of view and keep as low a profile as possible. It felt like we spent entire days in trishaws going from temple to temple.
I took the bike back; it cost me $150 for the damage, but I was just dismissed as another incompetent tourist. The killing, even the disappearance of the two waiters, hadn’t made it to the
Suzy’s revolver had been dropped off by a courier in the Firm into a dead-letter box in the women’s toilet at Starbucks. I took another sip of their coffee; globalization was a reality, these guys were getting everywhere. That one had been in the shopping mall in a good part of Georgetown, the island’s capital. The weapon and six rounds were all we’d been given, so Suzy had to make sure she did a good job. No wonder she’d acted like a lunatic, diving in through the Lite Ace’s window. She knew she couldn’t afford to waste a single shot.
It would have been better for us if the handover of the wine box had been done on the last night, so we could have carried out the task and left Penang the following day. But I was just pleased that it hadn’t happened on the
