Casanova (14 page)

At her door, Xing stared into a small circular lens imbedded in the wall and simultaneously keyed in a code. She had retina identity access. The door clicked and I heard the dead bolts slide open. It was top security. We entered and she closed the door behind me. Her apartment was large, open-plan and split-level. The entire far wall was glass. It looked out across the bay. I saw two of the three sentry guards and the stillness of the water surprised me.

‘Make the most of it, she said. ‘It may be the only time you see it.’ I could see in her eyes she was thinking it might be the last time she saw it too. ‘We have to leave quickly and not come back,’ she said.

I continued to stare at the view.

‘Sniper,’ I said.

‘The glass is toughened,’ she said, ‘bulletproof; and anyway, it’s too soon for a second attempt. We have time to get organised and get out.’

‘Organised?’ I asked.

‘This is now a war,’ she said. ‘Missouri will know that. He missed me. He sent two amateurs. He made a mistake being cheap. He knows I will now try to kill him. Either he dies or I die. For it to end one of us must die.’

‘What about the money?’ I said.

The money was the only reason I was in HK. Meriwether wanted the money back. I liked my new job.

‘Our priority is still the money. After we get it I will kill him.’

‘It would be much simpler for you to just kill him and forget about the money.’

‘Yes, it would be,’ she said, ‘but we both want the money. We can still do that. You and I together, backed by British Intelligence against Missouri and his Macau triads. Don’t tell me you’re not looking forward to it.’

I didn’t reply. Something was bothering me. How did Missouri know Xing was returning home that morning? I didn’t share my concern.

‘We take only one bag each,’ she said. We both selected our rucksacks. ‘We’ll fill them in my bedroom. Bring what you need.’

Her bed was square and low to the ground. It had cream silk sheets. The bedroom also had a glass wall looking out over the bay. Hanging from the ceiling was a punching bag.

Xing went to the opposite wall. Using a keypad, she opened a panel to reveal a hidden cupboard. It was her arsenal. There was every type of gun, a selection of knives, body vests, hand-grenades, boxes of ammunition, and ammunition belts, webbing and even a rocket launcher.

‘Choose what you want,’ she said.

I wasn’t certain what we would be doing so I didn’t know what we would need. ‘Do you have any other way of getting weapons after we’ve left here?’

‘Yes, I have a contact.’

I picked the Fairbairn-Sykes fighting knife in a leather sheath with a leg tie and a lightweight Glock 29 in a shoulder holster with suppressor. In Tenerife, I had used the same weapon. I’m not superstitious. I also took two lemons (hand grenades), and two boxes of ammo for the Glock.

Xing watched me and then took the same, and she took one of her detachable sniper rifles. She removed it from the case and wrapped it in a striped woollen scarf. She began filling her rucksack with clothes from her built-in wardrobe: knickers, bras and socks, t-shirts, tops, jeans, cargos, a cashmere hat, gloves and scarf set.

I opened my luggage and began doing the same. I only picked what I needed. Xing threw in her toilet bag and packed the scarf wrapped rifle.

Inside the gun cupboard, was another much smaller secret compartment. It opened by pushing a button, disguised as a wooden rivet in a row of a dozen other wooden rivets. The compartment contained cash, passports, driving licences, ID cards. There were several bundles. She found what she wanted, put them in a cotton bag and placed them in her rucksack.

She shut away her Aladdin’s cave.

‘I’m ready,’ she said.

I was too.

We left the apartment cautiously. I went ahead, Xing followed. She caught me up.

‘This way,’ she said.

We left the building through a side entrance. It led to a pathway. One route turned down towards the beach and the other traversed the hillside.

‘We go this way,’ Xing said, ‘it connects with the next bay over. We can take a bus from there.’

The pathway took us over the hill and down into the neighbouring bay. Occasional joggers puffed by, a dog-walker or two, and a pair of strolling old men deep in conversation, but nobody who intended us harm.

We didn’t want to hang around so we took the first available bus. We paid with our cards and sat at the front.

‘Where does this take us?’ I asked.

‘Back to the north of the island,’ she said, ‘to Central, where we caught the bus earlier.’

‘Do you have a plan?’

‘Not really; I think we should find a tourist hotel, one popular with the British, and get a room. Do you have false ID?’

I shook my head.

‘They now know I’m with someone; if they find out your name then they might find us.’

‘Perhaps I can get a false passport and credit card from the HK office? I’ll ask Meriwether.’

Xing nodded her agreement.

I called Meriwether using my K106.

‘Ah dear boy, how are you settling in? Are the locals treating you well?’

‘I need a false ID: passport and credit card. Can the HK office help?’

‘Oh dear, has something happened?’

‘Missouri had two friends waiting for us at Jackie’s apartment. They weren’t concerned with her wellbeing. We persuaded them to leave, but now we have to remain out of sight.’

‘Yes, I see, how very unfortunate. Friends of Missouri you say, how interesting. We can easily arrange a new ID for you. I’ll ask Hoagy to have a word with the office. He’ll call you with the details.’ Meriwether ended the call.

I turned to Xing and nodded confirmation.

‘Jackie?’ she questioned.

I smiled.

‘Meriwether gives everyone a nickname,’ I said.

The bus stopped at Central. We got off carrying our rucksacks. There were Glocks under our coats and fighting knives at our waists. I felt like a combat soldier going into battle. I’m not sure how Xing felt. She seemed just the same.

She said, ‘It is funny, isn’t it, how only a few weeks ago we fight each other and now we fight together.’

She was right.

‘Yes, very funny,’ I said.

Central was crowded. Even in the smog, I could now see the aggressive urban metropolis and feel the Asian capital city impose its will.

‘The Central Park Hotel is close,’ she said. ‘It’s popular with British tourists. We won’t be noticed there.’

I followed her through the swamp of bodies and across the hard terrain of molten concrete. We arrived at the hotel rucksack-to-rucksack.

‘We can’t check-in until you have your new identity,’ she said. ‘Are you hungry?’

We left the busy road and the high-rise buildings. A narrow concrete lane sloped like a skate park. It led us to a street side cafe. We sat at an outside table. A dirty, three-wheeled delivery truck with red hubcaps squeezed through the gap. It blew exhaust fumes in our direction.

‘This is a Dai Pai Dong,’ Xing said. ‘They’re HK’s kitchens, very popular with everyone, cheap and honest. Do you like noodles?’

I didn’t like noodles.

Xing ordered for both us. She spoke in Cantonese. It hardly helped our cover as tourists.

I considered making the call to Little Miss Marple but given the street noise, I decided to wait. Anyway, I didn’t want Hoagy to get an engaged tone.

Xing scoffed her noodles using chopsticks. She looked like a native. ‘An English tourist would use a fork,’ I said.

Xing stopped eating while she considered my observation. Then she shrugged and carried on. She sipped what looked like milky tea.

I used the plastic fork. The food was wok fried. I identified chicken and peppers. The generous sauce was of uncertain origin.

‘Do you like it?’

I didn’t, but I ate it. The can of cold Coca-Cola, however, was excellent.

‘How long do we have to wait?’ she asked.

Before I could choose a suitable answer, “Rule, Britannia!” played in my pocket. It was Hoagy.

‘I’ve spoken to the office,’ he said, ‘and they can drop you off new docs right away. Where are you?’

‘Hold on,’ I said. I looked at Xing. ‘Tell Hoagy where we are.’ She took the phone from me.

‘Hello Hoagy, how are you? Did we wake you up?’

‘Just tell him,’ I said. She glanced at me.

‘We’re sitting at the Dai Pai Dong on Elgin Street in Central...’

I took the phone back. ‘Did you get that?’

‘Yes, I think so.’

‘...how long?’ I said.

‘I’ll tell them straight away; not long.’

An hour passed before a small man wearing tortoiseshell spectacles and a side parting of dry, mousy hair appeared beside our table. He bent forward from the waist and said, ‘I say, excuse me, are you British tourists?’

‘Yes,’ I said, ‘we are.’

‘Are you the chap who’s lost his passport?’

‘Yes, I am.’

The man smiled courteously. ‘I’m Jonathan Puddles,’ he said softly. He placed a manila envelope on the table and winked. He left and I watched him go.

‘If that’s the HK office,’ Xing said, ‘we might be better on our own.’

I agreed with her but I didn’t say so. I opened the manila envelope. Inside were a new passport, driving licence and credit card. Xing watched me check them. A small, white card held a four-digit number. It was the pin for the credit card. ‘Oh, jolly good,’ she said in a posh British accent, ‘shall we get a room.’

We returned to the Central Park Hotel. The classy entrance did its best to make us feel special. At the desk, I passed over my new credit card. I keyed the four-digit pin and received a warm smile.

‘Welcome to the Central Park Hotel, sir. I hope you enjoy your stay.’

Inside our suite, we both dropped our rucksacks and coats onto the bed. I checked the window.

‘What can you see?’ Xing asked.

‘I can’t see any water,’ I said. The view was city landscape: an office building; or a monument to the greedy or the hungry; or a club full of Cuban smoke and Scotch whisky.

‘I’m going to take a shower; I’m dirty from the travel.’

I turned back from the view. Xing had started to undress. It was impressive how coolly she had taken the attempt on her life. It hadn’t caused any kind of reaction at all that I could see. It was as though men with knives attacked her every day. On the other hand, was it just her cold professionalism? The company of death is borne by all. Some enjoy indifference. She pulled her t-shirt off over her head. Her bra was black.

‘How did you know he was behind you?’ I asked. She paused with her jeans half-unbuttoned. Her eyes searched mine. I saw what I thought was amusement.

‘I heard him,’ she said.