by Tom Hunter
Rabah Bitat was one of Algeria’s smaller airports and the late-afternoon atmosphere was muggy and stifling even inside the terminal, due to the inadequate air conditioning. Still, there were plenty of people bustling around, while security guards were a very visible presence, scooting around on air-lifted Segway vehicles. Canine patrols were also sniffing keenly at all the passengers, to their annoyance.
It had been a long day, and Gord was looking forward to checking into his hotel and getting some rest before meeting his contact. Unlike his boss, he found flying to be a trying ordeal at the best of times, even more so when he’d forced to be shoulder-to-shoulder with unclean plebs.
Passing through customs and passport control without event, Gord headed towards the baggage claim to collect his things.
“One moment, sir.”
A security official put out an arm to stop Gord, who nimbly sidestepped to avoid him.
“Sir. I must insist you stop, sir.”
Gord cast his gaze up to the heavens, as if asking for the strength to deal with morons, as the officer came to stand in front of him.
“Is there a problem?” Gord’s voice rumbled with the threat of violence, but the guard was undeterred.
“May I see your documents?” he requested.
“Why?” Gord frowned. “I’ve already been through passport control. I don’t see why I should have to prove anything to you.”
“Nevertheless, I must insist that you show me your passport.” The officer’s demeanor remained calm, as he put his hand on the baton all security staff carried. “There have been reports of suspicious activity in the area, and you match the description of a person of interest. Now, while I’m sure that you are not the man we’re looking for, if you would be so kind as to produce your travel documents, we can clear this up in a matter of moments and you can be on your way. Unless you would prefer that we continue this conversation in one of our holding rooms?”
Gord muttered a curse under his breath, his fist clenching as he weighed up his options.
“Officer Sahnoun!” came a female voice from a few yards away.
Gord was saved from doing anything stupid, as an elegant woman sashayed over to him. Impeccably turned out, her tailored business suit hugged her curves, while perfectly applied makeup emphasized big eyes, so dark they were almost black.
“It is you, Officer Sahnoun,” the woman purred, coming and placing a hand on his arm. “And you’ve been working out since I last saw you. Very impressive.”
“I’m sorry, Miss.” Officer Sahnoun frowned, pulling away from the woman. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”
“Oh, don’t be silly.” The woman tittered, shaking her head. “How on earth could you forget me? I’m Valentina Lopez. We met at the Commissioner’s soiree, and you looked as dashing that night as you do now.”
“That’s very kind of you to say.” The guard blushed, self-consciously rubbing the back of his neck as he tried in vain to remember meeting the woman, who seemed so certain that they were close friends.
“It’s only the truth.” Valentina lightly swatted his arm, laughing as if he’d just cracked the funniest joke in the history of comedy. “And how are your lovely family? Your children are doing well at school I hope?”
“They are,” Officer Sahnoun, relaxing a little as it appeared that Valentina really did know him. “In fact, Shafiq recently won a prize for an essay he wrote, while Rafiq is reading well above his age. Rashida and I are very proud of them both.”
“As you should be,” nodded Valentina. “Your boys are a credit to you. Although with parents like you two, I am unsurprised to learn that your children are such successes. You must pass on my regards to Rashida. It would be delightful to see her again.”
“Er… yes, of course.” Officer Sahnoun nodded uncertainly.
“Speaking of delightful meetings,” Valentina continued, “it would appear that you’ve met my friend Gord. How wonderful. I always love it when friends of mine meet each other. I do so hope that you’re getting on well?”
“Well, actually…”
“Splendid! Splendid!” Valentina beamed and nodded as if they were at the country club, instead of the center of a busy concourse. “I cannot tell you how much I have been looking forward to Gord’s visit. I’ve been telling him for ages that he must come to Algeria and enjoy our wonderful hospitality. I’m sure you’ve been giving him advice on all the local attractions. There’s so much to see and do here, sometimes it’s hard to know where to start. Speaking of which, much as it’s been wonderful to catch up with you, we really must be going. Gord and I have a very busy itinerary planned and we’re going to have to hurry if we’re not going to fall behind schedule. So if you’re finished here…?”
Officer Sahnoun looked from Gord to Valentina and back again, as Valentina smiled winningly.
“We are,” he finally nodded. “I’m sorry if I caused you any inconvenience, Miss Lopez. Your friend is free to go.”
“Of course he is.” Valentina gave the guard another light pat on the arm, leaning forward to whisper in his ear. “Your wife’s a very lucky woman.”
She put her arm through Gord’s, blowing a kiss at the officer and wagging her fingers in goodbye as the pair of them headed over to baggage reclaim.
“I don’t often say this, but I am seriously impressed,” said Gord when they were firmly out of earshot of the guard. “I was expecting to have to break his neck at the first opportunity, yet you talked your way out of that one. How did you do it?”
“Puh-lease.” Valentina waved away his compliment, the flirtatious tone she’d adopted when speaking to the guard completely gone. “When you look like this, it’s the easiest thing in the world to get a man to do your bidding. All you have to do is act with confidence. Do you really think that a man like that has met a woman like me?” She carried on talking, without bothering to give Gord the chance to reply. “Of course not. But in his dreams, oh! In his dreams, he wishes that it were him walking away with me on his arm. I have no idea what his wife looks like, but I can guarantee you that if he thought he had even half a shot at a night with me, he’d be there in a heartbeat. All I’d have to do is snap my fingers and he’d come running like an obedient little puppy. So if I give him the opportunity to delude himself that we’re friends, he’s hardly going to disagree, and if he thinks that that he’ll get into my favor by granting me a simple request like ‘leave Gord alone,’ he’ll do that and more. Indeed, if we had time and I were so inclined, I’d play with him like a cat plays with a mouse, just to demonstrate to you the limitless possibilities the powers of seduction open up.”
“Hmm.” Gord grunted, intrigued by the notion that violence wasn’t the only way to get what you wanted.
At that moment, his bags came trundling into view on the carousel. After huffing with impatience for thirty seconds, as they moved all too slowly, he reached out and grabbed them.
“Well, I have to say that you saved me the hassle of disposing of his body, so thank you for that,” he said to Valentina.
“You’re welcome,” she murmured. “Now, shall we go to my car so we can get out of here? I hate spending time in airports. They always make my hair go frizzy.”
She patted at her perfectly styled up-do, slipping her arm through Gord’s again to lead him away.
Twenty-Five
“Ah. There’s my valet,” smiled Valentina, as they made their way through the parking lot to where a black sedan was waiting for them, a man in uniform leaning against the door. As they approached, he stood up straight and saluted before opening the rear door for his employer.
Valentina elegantly climbed into the rear seat, Gord having to bend low to follow her. Once inside, the petite woman stretched out, seemingly oblivious to Gord’s discomfort as the larger man was forced to painfully bend his legs up against his body to fit them into the small compartment behind the driver’s seat.
Valentina reached out to press a button, revealing a lighting station for cig
arettes. Helping herself, she offered one to Gord, who shook his head, sneering in disgust as she lit up. Smoke curled from her nostrils, wrapping and winding itself around her head as she leaned forward.
“Take us back to my apartment, Martin,” she instructed.
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, as Valentina rolled up the window separating the front of the car from the rear.
“That’s better,” she smiled. “Now we can talk in private. Martin’s wonderfully discrete, but I always find that my clients prefer it when they know that our conversations are confined to the two of us. The window’s completely sound proofed, so whatever you say to me will be in the strictest of confidence. But, Martin can see what’s going on in case you get any stupid ideas.”
“Is that really a wise policy?” asked Gord. “It doesn’t matter how good he is. If I decided to snap you in two right now, he wouldn’t be able to do a single thing to stop me.” He leaned menacingly towards Valentina. “I could threaten you and he wouldn’t hear a word,” he snarled.
“Oh, how darling!” Valentina broke into peals of laughter. “My dear boy, you can threaten me all you want. Please, be my guest. But you don’t strike me as a foolish man. A little too handy with your fists, perhaps, but not foolish. Hurt me, and you’ll have to do all the legwork to find this Miss Fatima on your own. Now, do you really think you have the right skillset to see such a quest through to the end? Are you patient enough to cope with the dead ends and frustrations that inevitably occur when searching for those who don’t want to be found? And if you are, then why are you talking to me in the first place?”
Gord glared at her, searching for any sign of intimidation on her face. Finding none, he finally sat back. “You’re right,” he agreed. “Missing persons aren’t in my wheelhouse. I do need your help, much as it galls me to admit it. I’ve been told that you’re the best in the business. Is that true?”
“But of course,” shrugged Valentina. “Tell me who you’re looking for and if they’re still alive, I’ll find them for you. Of course, I can find them if they’re dead as well, but there’s not as much fun in tracking down someone who is past laboring under the delusion they can evade me for long. My clients mostly prefer it when their target is still breathing.”
Gord pulled out a folder from one of his bags. “These are the details of the woman we need. She is currently using the alias of Fatima, as you know. You’ll find a list of all her known identities in those documents, as well as details of her last known whereabouts.”
Valentina opened up the file, scanning the first page. “You’re in luck,” she told Gord. “I have a few contacts that I can pump for information. Coincidentally, a recent job of mine was in the same area that your Fatima was last seen in, so my network there is very strong.”
“Who were you looking for there?” Gord asked.
“Now, now.” Valentina waggled her finger, tutting at the question. “You should know better than to ask about my other assignments. It is a point of principle that I will never betray any of my clients or sources. How could any of you trust me otherwise? It’s that same principle that means that you have my word that I will never ask any questions about you, your employer, or why you need this Fatima so desperately. Tell me–wouldn’t you rather work with someone you know will never give away your confidences?”
“I suppose.” Gord shrugged as Valentina turned her attention back to the thick file she’d been given. Gord drummed his fingers against his knee as he waited for her to finish her preliminary read through.
“Alright,” she finally announced. “I must say that dealing with psychics is not my preferred type of mission. For some reason, they always manage to stay one step ahead of me…” She glanced sideways at Gord to see if he shared her sense of humor, but he remained as stoic as ever. “Nevertheless, I have yet to start a search for someone and not find them and I don’t intend to ruin my reputation by turning down a request, or failing in my mission. I will find your Miss Fatima for you, but it will cost a pretty penny.”
She named a price that even Gord couldn’t help wincing at. “That’s just my finder’s fee,” Valentina explained. “There are expenses on top of that. In addition, I will require a non-refundable 50% deposit in advance. As I said, I’ve never failed to find someone, but in the event that this is the first time I don’t complete an assignment, it will not be because of lack of effort on my part and I will still require compensation for my time and energy. If those terms are agreeable to you, then I can begin.”
Gord’s simple response was to open up his briefcase and start counting out the wads of cash he had brought with him.
“I think you’ll find that’s the exact amount you asked for,” he announced when he’d eventually finished adding up the bundles of notes, putting them back in the case and passing it over to Valentina.
“Ah.” She smiled a self-satisfied smile. “Now I know who I’m dealing with. Only one client has ever paid up front and refused to demean himself by attempting to haggle. It would be a complete waste of time of course, but you’d be surprised at how many people attempt it just in case.” She tapped the side of her nose in a conspiratorial gesture. “Your secret is safe with me, as always.”
At that moment, Martin stopped the vehicle, pulling over outside an expensive-looking apartment building. He open his hand, palm upwards, in a gesture that enquired whether she was ready for him to speak to them.
Valentina nodded to give her permission, and the central window rolled down.
“Thank you, Martin,” she said. “I’ll be leaving now, but if you could be so kind as to take Gord to his hotel, I would appreciate it. If he doesn’t have a reservation, take him to a hotel overlooking the sea. A man like this deserves a beautiful view while he’s staying in our lovely country.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Martin started the car again, as Valentina gathered her things together.
“I’ll be in contact when I have some news for you,” she told Gord. “In the meantime, my advice to you is to relax, enjoy our wonderful beaches, and stay out of trouble while I get on with the job. Annaba is truly beautiful at this time of year and if I know your employer–and we both know that I do–he’ll have been working you hard. You deserve a break and there’s no better place to unwind than Annaba.”
She exited the car. Gord couldn’t tear his eyes away from the way her hips moved, as she casually strolled up the path that lead to her apartment. There was no doubt that Valentina was a striking figure.
“She better be as good as she says she is,” he muttered to himself, as the car pulled away. Still, beautiful woman or not, Gord wasn’t above teaching her a lesson if she failed to deliver the goods.
Twenty-Six
Waleed threw another log on the fire, before going back to the blanket he’d laid out on the ground for himself, curling up and closing his eyes. Basile was sitting up against a tree, gazing out at the night sky, lost in thought. Samuel was nearby, helping Akhenaton deal with the cuts and bruises he’d gained during their fight.
“You know, it’s so calm and peaceful out here, it’s almost nice enough to make me forget that I’ve been shot,” Basile remarked.
“Is that really true?” asked Samuel.
Basile turned to face him, the small movement sending another wave of pain running through him. “No,” he admitted, lightly massaging his temples as he tried to ignore the agony in his arm. “But I figured that if I said it enough times, then maybe I could trick my body into believing it.”
“Ah, Basile,” laughed Akhenaton. “You know, I really admire your ability to keep joking around, even when you’ve been injured. I’m sure there are plenty of others who wouldn’t be nearly as laidback as you, if they’d been shot. We’d never hear the end of it if a certain someone had been in your place.” He cast a pointed look at Waleed, who seemed oblivious to the jibe.
“Meh.” Basile gave a little Gallic shrug. “What good will whining do? It won’t make my arm heal any faster. I’d rather focus my a
ttention on nicer things, like the patterns the stars make across the sky, or the thought of good food and company in a nice little restaurant when we’ve returned to Cairo. That way, I can forget the grief I’m going to get when I have to explain what happened to my arm when I return home.”
“Grief?” Akhenaton frowned a little. “Do you have family back home then, people who will be worried about you?”
“I’m not married, or at least not yet,” Basile replied. “But there is someone special back home, who will kick my butt when she sees the gunshot scar on my arm. She’s been saying for a while that she’d prefer it if I got a desk job, or at least something safer than being out in the field, despite the fact that nothing serious has ever happened to me the entire time we’ve been together. This will only give her ammunition, if you’ll pardon the pun.”
“Better you than me,” observed Josh, coming over to sit by the fire. “I never had much luck with women. It seems that months on the road, or rather, in the air, aren’t exactly conducive to maintaining a healthy relationship. Every woman I’ve ever met always assumes that I must be cheating when I’m away, even though I’ve always been faithful. Or they decide that since I’m bound to cheat sooner or later, they’d better get in there first, so they leave me for someone else.”
“You’ve always been faithful?” Samuel raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Well, maybe I’ve played the field once or twice in my younger days,” Josh blushed. “With a face like this, can you blame me?”
Samuel laughed and shook his head.
“Seriously, though,” Josh went on. “The older I get, the less interested I am in playing the kind of games that always seem to go hand-in-hand with romance. I’d much rather be with someone who is as laidback as I am, someone who doesn’t mind that I’ll disappear for weeks at a time on a job and won’t be able to call them every five minutes. Since that kind of woman doesn’t seem to exist, I’m more than content to focus on what I do have: good friends like you. Plus, of course, there’s a strong support network among my fellow former airmen, many of whom have exactly the same kind of trouble with women I do. There’s a lot to be said for keeping things simple and avoiding the complications of relationships.”
