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“Yes, I know of it.”
“Then you probably know that six kilograms of highly enriched uranium was just repatriated from the Czech Republic to Russia. The transfer was secret until it was completed, but I knew about it beforehand. There are others that are being secretly pla
“What will it cost?” Al-Jib asked, and I thought, Nice sales pitch. The guy’s ready to whip out his checkbook.
“A lot,” Hilger said, and they all laughed.
Ma
Al-Jib said, “Yes, it seems we can do business together.”
Ma
Hilger said, “Cheers,” and I heard glasses clinking.
Ma
My heart rate started to pick up speed. There was a hiss, then Dox cut in. “Ma
“I heard him,” I said. “I’m ready.”
“Delilah and I will stay on this frequency so we can hear you if there’s a problem,” he said. “But I’m done talking unless you need me.”
“All right,” I said. I was a little surprised Delilah hadn’t mentioned the discussion we just overheard as a way of reintroducing the critical importance of killing Al-Jib. I knew she was stubborn and didn’t easily accept the word “no.” But I supposed the compromise I offered had persuaded her.
I rotated my head left, then right, cracking the joints. I squatted down to make sure that, if my knees needed to pop, they would do so now. I twisted my torso left, then right, swung my arms around, and took two short, sharp breaths. Okay.
I looked through the hole facing the bathroom door, thinking, Come on, Ma
But Ma
I said into the lapel microphone, “Ma
Delilah said, “Shit.”
“Can you take a look?” I asked. “Dox should stay put. It’s not likely, but also not impossible that Ma
“No problem,” she said.
I heard the door open. I looked through the hole. It wasn’t Ma
She said, “Understood.”
My new visitor had the dark hair and skin of a Filipino. Inside his cheap suit was a body with the approximate dimensions of a refrigerator. From his size, the way he was dressed, and the way he was scoping the bathroom, I made him as a bodyguard. Ma
This was the guy Hilger had insisted wait outside. Ma
Not without reason.
The bodyguard was heading right toward me, looking at the closet door. He was going to check it.
I put my left foot against the doorjamb, grasped the handle, and leaned back so that the door was supporting about a hundred and fifty pounds of pressure. A moment later, I felt a mild pull from the other side. If we’d been in a real tug-of-war, the guy might have been able to budge me, but he wasn’t trying to force the door, just to confirm that it was locked as the sign advertised. It didn’t move a millimeter. I felt him let go, heard him walking back to the entrance. I heard the bathroom door open, heard him say, “It’s clear.”
I kept my position. Ma
I heard a new set of footsteps in the room. Ma
The man said, “Of course.”
I heard the door close. Ma
He had seen the closet door. He was wondering whether the bodyguard had checked it. Of course he’s checked it, he’d be thinking. He’s a bodyguard. Still, no harm confirming.. .
Sure enough, his footsteps came closer, then stopped again, and I felt another mild tug on the door. Then the pressure eased, and I heard him walking off to my right.
I eased off the pressure I was keeping on the door and looked through the first hole I had made. Ma
I took one quick peek through the other hole to confirm that the bodyguard had indeed walked out. He had. It was just Ma
It wasn’t like the last time. I thought of nothing that wasn’t operational. Nothing.
I gave him a little time to finish what he was doing. If I didn’t, he’d wind up pissing on the floor, and maybe on me.
He started shaking off. I took two quick, silent breaths. Go.
I swung the door open, took a long step past the door, pivoted, and strode directly toward him.
His head snapped in my direction and his mouth dropped open. His eyes popped wide and his arms started to come up.
Adrenaline constricts the throat. This is why a person, suddenly terrified, finds himself squeaking in a high-pitched voice, or whispering, or unable even to make a sound. Ma
He started to turn toward me, but it was already too late. I stepped behind him, jammed my left knee in his lower back, and jerked him toward me by the shoulders. His body folded backward around my knee. I put my foot back on the floor and swept my left arm counterclockwise around his neck so that his face was pressed against my lower rib cage and my forearm was braced against the back of his neck. I took my left wrist in my right hand, shoved his lower body forward against the urinal, and jerked up with my forearm. His spine arched to the limit of its natural give, and for a split second our forward momentum froze. Then his neck broke. The crack was loud, but not quite loud enough for the guard to have heard outside that solid mahogany entrance door. His body went rubbery and I slipped my arms under his to stop him from slumping to the floor.
I dragged him into the closet and closed the door behind us. I patted him down, but he wasn’t armed. Shit.
I thought for a moment. If the bodyguard were right outside the door, and I expected he was, I couldn’t just walk past him. He had checked the bathroom before Ma
I heard the bathroom door open. I checked through the peephole: a middle-aged Chinese man in a business suit. He looked harmless, and the bodyguard must have decided it was all right for him to pass. He went into one of the stalls and closed the door.