The tip

An excerpt of my thriller and 6th book THE RED SQUARE.

The tip

"The Red Square"

An excerpt

When Paul reached the hotel at last, he went straight to the bar. He needed a drink badly. He hardly crossed the bar’s threshold when a waiter dropped his empty platter on the counter with a sharp noise. It resounded loud and clear all over the small hall.

What a well timed welcome… Paul thought sardonically. If they didn’t bump me off outside I’m safe… I don’t think the bartender doesn’t know who I’m; they’re trying to get on my nerves.

Some ordinary guests that were simple citizens watched him with curiosity. Paul ordered a double scotch paid drank it with a few gulps and went right afterward to the hotel’s restaurant, he was terribly hungry.

What a somber country, what fear ridden citizens… What do they know at Langley about the mentality, the fears of the average Russian that perceives right away every move, every sign without any clandestine training? Paul thought gloomily while having his supper. The moment that waiter gave the sign, almost everyone there watched me, all those who had nothing to do with it, but knew very well that I’m the current prey �" what a ghoulish feeling it was…Why was I sent here? He went on thinking munching his food, hardly noticing what he was eating. Do they think the high and mighty back home, that I’ll work some miracles, form a net or get them a source or two �" in this spider web country? Or is it a premeditated failure, in which I play the blind tool, a tool that can be disposed of �" a sacrifice for someone’s egotistical ambitions…?

With these gruesome thoughts Paul went up to his room. He did not feel like going out and mingle with some strangers in some bar or a night club, as he did almost every night before. He was exhausted mentally and physically.

Back in his room he sat a short while before the TV screen, zapped the few foreign channels absent mindedly; tried the local ones to catch up a few more words in Russian in vain. He simply could not concentrate. The early meeting with Sam troubled him, while having met Tania or whatever her name is, later on, augmented his frustration. He did not make any foolish mistakes and left her right in time, but he could not rid himself from a certain feeling, which he could not even define yet �" the inkling of having missed a rare opportunity. As soon as he realized it he switched off the TV, and sat pondering over it.

I wonder if I would have had the guts to leave her behind, get up and go if I would have met her again… He thought smiling, as if he admitted to himself his own weaknesses. But Tania is not the last straw that broke the camel’s back… It’s Sam the herald of those who didn’t like my relation with Alicia, a waitress and a Puerto Rican on top of it… But that has nothing to do with that dubious mission of mine, there must be something else, something that must have been brewing a long time already; and my relationship with Alicia have made me the appropriate and handy scapegoat. It was one of several possible explanations to this bizarre mission of his. The way he was summoned with such urgency, the haphazard briefing… All he had to do as he was told in a few words, was to spend some time in this country, and wait till a certain agent would get in contact with him.

Sure, I’ve been burned the moment I landed in this damn country, and if there’s such type that waits for the right time to get in touch with me, he’s lying low if he exists at all…There was talk on equipment and means, and I am supposed to persuade him to expand, to recruit some more hands and turn them into a net, and here comes this operator of mine and tells me that he stinks…

With such thoughts and worries it is hard to find some self composure, and thus Paul did not fall asleep before two forty five am. He managed to have a last worried look at his wrist watch, a few seconds before his anxious brain gave in to the demands of his exhausted body.

He woke up at about eleven am the next morning, he was not under any kind of pressure �" there was nothing he could do except have breakfast, lunch, dinner and keep on waiting in vain; knowing there is not the slightest chance that any would be agent, spy or dissident would try to contact him.

At about eleven thirty he was downstairs in the lobby on his way out. As he came out he realized that some drastic change has taken place, his pursuers changed tactics �" it was open surveillance from now on, and there is just one meaning to it: “get the hell out, leave our country, or…”

‘Bless them all foes, and friends back home alike…’ Paul mumbled with impatience, meaning the opposite. I can’t leave without a confirmation to do it. Well it’s a nasty upgrade, but I shall have to live on with it… He thought a bit perturbed though. At the first pedestrian crossing he stopped, ignoring the one that walked about a yard before him and the second one that was just one step behind.

People might think they’re my bodyguards. He thought amused while crossing the road.

The poor devils must be mad at me, having waited since the early morning hours… Paul thought while having a late breakfast in the nearest restaurant. He sat over his black coffee with a drop of rum for quite a while, there was no need to rush or to leave and face his ‘bodyguards’ too soon. After having paid his bill he went to restroom and shut himself in one the cabinets. As he let the water gush out and opened up the door, two big men pushed their way inside his cabinet's open door rather rudely, as if he did not exist. He had to squeeze himself out between their sturdy muscular bodies. They’re not after remnants of documents that I've supposedly tried to get rid off; it’s simply part of the harsh treatment that I’ll have to live with from now on… He concluded gloomily as he went out.

On the pavement before the restaurant he met Tania again. She did not smile this time.

‘You’d better leave!’ She said watching him with a stern gaze. ‘That’s an advice from someone that likes you.’  She added and off she went.

© Haim Kadman 2010 �" all rights reserved.

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