False Horizon - Alex Archer [11]
As he came abreast of the circular drive leading up to the hotel entrance, he paused and then moved to where the body lay. In the midst of the curious onlookers, he drew no attention to himself.
Crumpled in a bloody mangled heap was the body of the man who had just fallen. Tuk looked him over and saw that the pants were not the same color as those worn by the man who had accompanied Annja Creed.
That was good news.
He turned back to the lobby. A steady stream of onlookers was rushing out to see what had caused so much commotion. Entering the lobby now would make him stand out. He waited a few minutes until he saw a bellhop dragging a luggage cart behind him.
That was his chance.
Tuk sidled up next to the cart and walked smoothly into the lobby as if he belonged there. He had often found that confidence helped with his virtual invisibility. The cart also helped hide him behind the garment bags.
Tsing occupied the penthouse and gaining access to that area required a special key in the elevator. Tuk had no such key. That meant he would be forced to take the stairs.
He entered the elevator and pressed the topmost-floor button, holding it down to cause the elevator to run express to his destination. He regarded himself in the mirrored doors and smiled. All that money! It would be his if he could just live long enough to see this assignment finished.
As the numbers flashed by, Tuk thought about the relative peace he would soon enjoy. Long walks would be the greatest exertion he would face, but otherwise, he would leave behind all the congestion and urban decay. And he would be immensely grateful for it.
At last, the top floor came up and the elevator dinged softly before the doors opened. Tuk looked out to either side, but saw no one else in the hallway. He stepped out and let the doors close behind him.
Down the hall he saw the exit sign for the stairwell and headed for it. He hoped that it would also go up to the penthouse and roof. Surely Tsing’s men had used it to throw their unlucky prisoner over the top. Tuk would use it to gain access to the penthouse floor.
He pushed open the door carefully, and listened. As he had hoped, the stairs ran up as well as down. He stepped into the cool stairwell and quietly strode up the steps.
Two flights farther up, he saw an unmarked door and stopped. This was the penthouse level.
A small amount of space showed under the door and Tuk got down on his knees and bent his face until he could see under the crack. He paused and let his eyesight adjust to the darkness on the other side.
As far as he could tell, there was no one in the penthouse hallway.
Tuk raised himself and turned the doorknob slowly.
The door opened and Tuk slid through. He could smell the incense that Tsing always insisted be kept burning. Tuk’s nostrils flared in disgust. He hated everything about Tsing, and his preference for incense and anything vaguely mystical was in direct contrast to his barbaric ways.
But one thing that Tsing insisted on helped Tuk and that was the low light. He faded into the shadows near a potted giant fern next to the massive oak doors and sidled up as close as he dared to the main entryway. This would make for a decent observation post.
How long would he need to stay, though? The man on the phone had told him to make sure Annja Creed was safe. But how could he do that if he was out here? Tuk listened at the door in vain. The heavy wood barred any sound from passing through it. And unlike the stairwell door, there was no such space at the bottom of the entry doors to the penthouse.
Tuk realized with a start that he would have to enter the penthouse itself.
He examined the door in front of him. There would be people inside. At least five, he reasoned. Tsing, Burton, Kurtz, Annja Creed and the other man. There might even be more.
Tuk took a breath and examined the lock. He could force his way in, he supposed, but that would simply alert everyone to his presence. And the man on the phone had been most insistent that he remain utterly invisible