False Horizon - Alex Archer [6]
The man nodded. “The realities of life do not tolerate the whims of our hearts, do they?”
“Not often.”
“Take this assignment and I will triple your payment. I know the pain of working with idiots. I wouldn’t wish it upon anyone.”
“Your generosity is most appreciated.”
“As is your discretion,” the man said. “And your talent.”
“What would you have me do once I pick up the trail?”
“Nothing. You do absolutely nothing except follow her. For you to attempt otherwise would be suicidal.”
There was nothing boastful or arrogant about the manner in which the large man spoke. It was simply matter-of-fact. And Tuk had little reason to doubt the man’s words.
“As you wish.”
“She will most likely head to Thamel.”
“What makes you say that?”
“That is where all foreigners tend to go, isn’t it? And this woman is adept at blending in with the surrounding scenery.”
Tuk nodded. “I won’t let that fact enable any assumptions on my part.”
“I know this.”
They reached the end of the street and throngs of foot traffic swelled around them. The large man turned to Tuk and smiled. “Thank you for your help.”
“How will I know where to find you?”
“Take this.” The large man reached into his pocket and pulled out a small phone. Tuk recognized it as a disposable unit like thousands of others sold all over Katmandu. It was anonymous and therefore useful to the very drug runners Tuk despised.
“Press and hold the two and it will ring to my phone. Tell me where you are and I will be there. The phone is set to vibrate. If I call you and you do not answer, I will assume you are unable to talk at that moment for fear of giving your position away. However, I will expect a return call as soon as you are able.”
“Understood.”
“Then we are in business.”
Tuk frowned. “One last question, if I may?”
“Yes?”
“How did you find me?”
The man smiled. “You are a rarity in this part of the world, my friend. But not so in other places. In every city and town there are those who know it better than anyone else. I only needed to take my time and you revealed yourself when the universe judged the time right.”
Tuk smiled. “I’m glad to be of service.”
“As am I.”
“I know better than to ask your name,” Tuk said. “But what about the woman? What is she called?”
The man started to walk away, paused and looked back at Tuk. “Her name is Annja Creed.”
Tuk said the name to himself several times, trying it on for size. When he glanced back, the large man was gone.
Outside the Blue Note, Tuk wondered what exactly such a woman might be doing in order to attract the intense scrutiny of the man who now employed him. She seemed ordinary enough, albeit skilled at movement through crowds. Tuk had trailed her on a motorbike from the airport, and when she’d given up the taxi, he had parked and followed her on foot.
The phone buzzed in the pocket of his worn pants. Tuk reached in and pulled out the phone. “Yes?”
“You have her?”
“It is as you said. She is in Thamel. At a restaurant called the Blue Note.”
“Keep watching her.”
“You’re coming here?”
“Not yet. But I will soon.”
The line disconnected and Tuk was left to wonder some more about the woman called Annja Creed.
3
Inside the Blue Note, Annja was oblivious to the little Nepali man stationed outside with orders to report on her movements. She had other things to consider just then, like exactly how she was going to deal with the two men heading toward her table.
“Mike?”
But Mike only frowned. Annja glanced at him and then back at the hulking masses in front of her. They both stopped short of coming within range of a swift kick from Annja’s boots. That meant they had a situational awareness Annja recognized, marking them as seasoned professionals.
“Hi, Mike,” the one sporting a goatee said. “How ya been?”
Mike frowned. “I don’t know you.”
“Sure you do. You know our employer, Mr. Tsing. So if you know him, then you know us.”
Annja looked at Mike. “Who is Mr. Tsing?”
“A miserable bastard, apparently,” Mike said. He looked back at the huge men. “Why are you bothering me about this now?