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Kadj'el (The As'mirin Book 1)

Page 24

by Ada Haynes


  He was starting to get as paranoid as Kalem.

  Ekbeth forced himself to smile and, pushing open the meeting room doors, entered the space, where four managers of a very big American consortium were expecting him. The men needed cash badly, and quickly—cash other banks were refusing, due to the financial crisis. Ekbeth was more or less their last resort. They knew it. He knew it. Still there was no point in humiliating them. Customers were customers. This was why he, the bank owner, was meeting them, rather than only his local manager.

  A bit of respect could do no harm. In the end, it was all just a game.

  *

  Ekbeth spent the whole morning in that meeting. Then had a quick business lunch with his local manager, and another meeting in the afternoon, this time in Miami, with one of his moneylenders. Mainly drug money. Ekbeth had become the man’s only banker over the years, which was a considerable risk for the dealer—a fact the man had become especially aware of during what they now called the “Chinese panic day.” It had taken considerable time and effort on Ekbeth’s part to reassure the man. The first visits had been very tense, but the dealer’s trust of Ekbeth was slowly returning. There was no insulting body search today, and only two menacing bodyguards in the room to which they were brought.

  Their host was all smiles. Ekbeth sensed no anger emanating from him. He let his guard down a bit.

  “Ekbeth. Always glad to see you!” Then the man frowned. “New bodyguard?”

  Ekbeth managed an indifferent shrug. “Kalem’s son, Don Luis. His father thought the boy was due for some live exercise.”

  The drug dealer relaxed a little. Stared at Najeb for a long moment. “He does look a bit like his father. So it’s how the job is done? From father to son?”

  Najeb did not answer. Another point for him, thought Ekbeth. Kalem would have plenty of reasons to be proud of his son, for once.

  Ekbeth shrugged again. “Their family has served mine loyally for seven generations, Don Luis. I can’t complain.”

  He waited until their host offered him a seat, then a drink.

  Then the serious business started.

  *

  They managed to get back to Zurich just before midnight, local time. Najeb allowed himself a groan of relief, and untied the suitcase chain from his wrist.

  “You did well today, Najeb!”

  The young man smiled. “Thank you, Akeneires’el. But I do understand now why my father was always recommending that I eat and drink every time I am given the opportunity when working as a bodyguard. I’m starving!”

  Ekbeth laughed. “Ah, wise advice, indeed. I get enough snacks and drinks during the meetings that I tend to skip proper meals. I’m sorry. But I’m sure the cook has something in store for you.”

  “So, there’s no more traveling around today?”

  Ekbeth nodded, then added with a mischievous grin, “Depending on how you define “today,” though. I do have an afternoon meeting in Shanghai tomorrow.”

  Najeb did the math, and winced. “So how many hours of sleep can I count on?”

  “Enough—don’t worry. I don’t need you when I go to the office here.”

  Najeb looked at the suitcase he had just put on the main table of the living room. “And you, Akeneires’el? Are you going to get any food or sleep?”

  “Food, definitely. Sleep?” He gestured towards the suitcase. “Depending on how fast I can look into this.”

  Najeb had probably also heard his father complain about the Akeneires’el’s bad sleeping habits, because he did not comment. He left the room with the promise he would ask the cook to bring something.

  At last Ekbeth was alone. He had been patient enough. He opened the suitcase, took the package out, and tore open the wrapping paper. The file was in a box, and was very thick.

  Ekbeth sat in his favorite chair and started reading.

  *

  Three hours later, he closed the last folder. He put it carefully back in its box and shoved everything away from him. The words and the pictures he had seen remained imprinted in his brain.

  Most of the files were written in Chinese, but the few titles in English had been enough. “Eviscerated.” “Died by slow and painful strangulation.” “Unsure of victim’s identity.” “Whole building destroyed in explosion.”

  And the pictures: bloody red, charcoal black, livid dead flesh. He needed no translation for those.

  He just could not believe it. Kimiel was a thief, misusing her As’mirin abilities. Maybe skillful with a knife… but this… this…

  He got up from his chair, walked towards the window and out to the terrace beyond.

  The cold air calmed his mind a bit.

  Duncan McLean had heard rumors about this. The old man had called her a murderer. Watanabe had said the file was built on Kimiel’s acts. He had said that she killed her husband. The question was, of course, how much Ekbeth could trust the man. Watanabe had also said he was ready to do anything to protect her.

  Faking such files was not a big deal for someone as well connected as he was. Still, if those files were genuine and Kimiel had killed—no, massacred—all those people, then Kalem had been very lucky to survive his encounter with her.

  They all had been lucky. There was no way Ekbeth would let the woman approach him again, even stark naked!

  Watanabe’s file had certainly accomplished its goal. Ekbeth did not want to be responsible for such carnage among his fellow As’mirin. He looked back at the box through the window. So innocent there, next to the untouched meal the cook had brought him a long time ago.

  A ticking bomb.

  He should bring it to the High Council. But why pollute the other Akeneires’elin minds with such horrors? The woman was condemned to Ara’s trial, anyway.

  Then he realized something else. This box was Shona’s past. The Ke’As’mirin had seen this during the Oyyads’erel. And still let her live. Why? Were they so frustrated at their descendants that they really thought only a psychopath could bring them back on the right path?

  Kimiel…the redeemer.

  He felt dizzy. He needed sleep. The meeting in Shanghai was not that important, but it still needed his full attention. And he had some administrative work to do in Zurich beforehand. But first, he needed to decide what to do about that box on his table. If not the High Council, maybe inform Najeb. And Lyrian.

  And he needed to warn Nukri na Liom. The Caller was prepared for some form of resistance from Shona’s side. But certainly not that much violence. Nukri was old. And their only remaining Caller. Essential to the community.

  Ekbeth closed his eyes. Called the old man in his mind. Got a very sleepy answer.

  It was also very early in the day in the Valley.

  Sorry to wake you up, Nukri. But it could not wait. If Kimiel touches the stone and you manage to Call her to the Valley, transfer her immediately to a safe, enclosed place from which she won’t be able to escape or contact anyone.

  The Caller muttered an agreement and cut the contact.

  Ekbeth hoped fervently Nukri would remember the instructions when he woke up.

  Maybe Ekbeth would contact him again later, to be on the safe side.

  He made a decision about the box. Walked back inside. No one needed to see this.

  There was no fireplace in his villa in which to burn all this paper. This would have been his preferred solution. There was, however, a very efficient paper shredder in his study. Thankfully, his cousin was not sleeping in the Villa tonight or he would have complained about the noise again.

  Ekbeth took the box to his study. He had a little less than two hours to get this done, including taking the shreds to the garbage bin.

  Najeb would not ask about the box. And if he did, it would probably be too late. Still, Ekbeth had to hurry.

  He reopened the box.

  41

  In the end Shona did not even need a tech wizard, or to leave Bhutan. The first mobile phone shop she entered when reaching Thimphu, the Bhutanese capital,
was enough.

  The shop owner was obviously a big fan of spy stories. He promised that he knew how to call someone without raising suspicion from potential listeners. To prove his point , after asking a few questions, he called Jeffrey on one of the numerous mobile phones he had for sale. After having greeted Jeffrey, affecting a terrible British accent, the man said he was offering his services as an intermediary, that he had numerous Russian beauties on offer—one, especially, called Sonia. That struck a nerve with Shona, but she managed to smile at the man. She could only imagine Jeffrey’s reaction. Actually, she was surprised her friend had not already hung up. He had never found this kind of call funny, whether fake or real. The shop owner continued his spiel for some time, and, having given Jeffrey his phone number, hung up.

  He turned to Shona with a huge satisfied grin. “Now we wait.”

  Shona had considerable doubt, but sure enough, one minute later, another mobile phone started ringing. The shop owner answered it with the same phony accent, and handed the phone to Shona. “Keep it under five minutes. And don’t use words that might alert the CIA. They are following all the conversations up there.”

  Shona whispered, “Can I go outside to talk?”

  The shop owner grinned. “You really know nothing about those things, do you? Of course you can.”

  So she stepped outside. “Jeffrey?”

  “Good day to you, Shona. Your knack for finding the strangest friends is still very impressive, I must say.”

  “No names, please.”

  “This line is secure. Don’t worry. Your other friends are not listening. What can I do for you?”

  “I need to come home. Discreetly.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Still in Bhutan.”

  “And you still have your passport?”

  “Yes.”

  “I will call you back in ten minutes.”

  “Do you need another number?”

  “No.”

  She waited, sharing tea with the shop owner and learning all she needed to know about the dangerous CIA satellite spying. She was very glad when Jeffrey finally called back.

  “Can you get to Delhi on your own?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay. I’ll have someone meet you there with a ticket and a fake ID.”

  “Can’t you send the plane?”

  “No. Take a paper and write down this number, Shona…”

  She wrote the instructions quickly, then tolerated the shop owner for another two minutes before taking her leave.

  *

  It took her a week to get back to the Castle in England. The place was not really a castle. It was just a huge mansion located in a lot of peaceful, gentle, hilly English countryside. Toshio’s home. Currently, only Jeffrey was enjoying the luxury of the place—Jeffrey and Toshio’s staff. From time to time, Shona stayed here, too.

  Jeffrey welcomed her at the main door, but his embrace was not as warm as she was used to.

  “That bad, eh?”, she asked.

  Jeffrey only nodded, and let her enter the house. “Go and take a bath and put on some fresh clothes, while I get the lunch ready. Then we’ll talk.”

  Shona could not help but grin. “Oh, it’s only my smell that bothers you?”

  That brought a smile to his lips. “I would say that your last bath was at least two weeks ago!”

  “Not too far off. See you later.”

  She was feeling clean for the first time in weeks when she finally sat at the small veranda table, where lunch was served. She enjoyed every bit of it. Finally, something without rice and those horribly spiced peppers.

  “Mmh, grapes! I’ve missed those!”

  “Glad you came back, Shona. And you look good. I was worried about you.”

  She ate a few grapes before responding. “I have some very good news.”

  “That email about the White Lady…”

  She sighed. “I know. It brought them right to me. Not my cleverest move.”

  “Yes. Ekbeth told us that Kalem, the bodyguard, went after you, and that you knifed him. He is also mad at you about Farrill. He is very determined to find you now and make you pay.”

  She shrugged. “He was already very determined to find me before, anyway, and not for a good reason.”

  “Ekbeth talked to Toshio last week. Just a day before you called, in fact.”

  She had expected this. She popped a few more grapes in her mouth. “How did Ekbeth find out about him?”

  It was Jeffrey’s turn to sigh. “A slight miscalculation on my part. Ekbeth’s bodyguard had gone to Maire with heavy threats. She called me, and when it became clear that I was unable to stop the threats, she called Toshio. You know how he is. He called his friends to teach Ekbeth a lesson. Only it worked a bit too well.”

  “What kind of lesson?”

  “Toshio asked his friends in China to close their accounts at Ekbeth’s bank. Or at least pretend they were willing to do so.”

  Shona was impressed. “And they accepted?”

  “Yes. But Toshio called too many of them. It looked like a real panic on the part of the Chinese, which, in turn, provoked a massive reaction from Ekbeth’s other customers.”

  “Oops. Is Ekbeth ruined?”

  “He saved his bank in the end. Found a few of our own accounts in the meantime and froze them. As well as some of yours. Then started asking questions to his Chinese customers. That’s how he got Toshio’s name. One of them talked. As to how Ekbeth contacted Toshio, that was a mistake on Toshio’s part. Toshio used a phone without even hiding the number. He’s just as hopeless as you with regard to new technology. Ekbeth simply had to call back and ask for a meeting. But I imagine that Ekbeth would have found a way to contact Toshio anyway. Our boss is really easy to find nowadays.”

  Pity she had missed the meeting.

  “How did it go?”

  “Very polite on both sides. Considering you had just knifed Ekbeth’s bodyguard. Kalem survived, in case you were wondering. You are losing your touch, girl.”

  Shona just stared at him, not reacting to his joke.

  Jeffrey grinned. “Anyway. We did our best to convince Ekbeth he’d better stop pursuing you.”

  “And did you manage?”

  “Well, Toshio told him a few things about you I’d rather not repeat and I sent him a copy of some police reports you’re very familiar with. With a few imaginative additions to make it even gorier. If that does not frighten him enough, I don’t know what will.”

  She was not sure this was good news. Out of context, she could only imagine what Ekbeth’s reaction was going to be.

  “Before we part company, Ekbeth left a message for you. Do you want to see it?”

  A message? “Later. Why couldn’t you send the plane to me?”

  “Because you wanted to come back discreetly. They are monitoring the few accounts they have not frozen. They spy on us. We spy on them. Very difficult to do anything without their knowledge.”

  There were no more grapes. She found an apple.

  “Your brother also called. Not sure how he found our number, but he seems as resourceful as you when he needs to be. He was very upset. I understood from his ranting that the McLean clan holds you responsible for the Laird Duncan’s death.”

  Duncan? Dead? How was that possible? Later.

  “Did Keremli come to pick up the ring?”

  “Yes. We had a formal dinner. She really is a nice lady.”

  “Good. My turn for the news. The White Lady is only part of what I discovered while in Bhutan. Dorje is alive.”

  Jeffrey’s expression remained so bland that she understood this was not a surprise to him. She asked, “You knew this?”

  He simply nodded, but pulled back in his chair, putting a little distance between them, apparently expecting a violent reaction.

  She was too tired for violence. “Since when?”

  “Since before we found you. Actually Dorje was the one to tell Toshio you had survived the ordeal.
That you’d been taken away.”

  She was too tired for violence, but not that exhausted that she could not get really angry. “Why did none of you ever tell me that?”

  “Toshio’s decision. Please understand. You know how you reacted until recently whenever we talked about Bhutan. Saying that word only got you hysterical. It did not seem such a good idea to tell you someone else had survived. The right moment never seemed to come.”

  “You could have told me before I left for Bhutan! At least!”

  Jeffrey nodded. “I forgot. Sorry.”

  Shona tried to get a grip on her emotion. “I’ve just spent almost three months with the man, and he never told me about this!”

  Jeffrey shrugged. “Can’t blame him. From what Toshio told us when he came back from Bhutan, Dorje was heavily drugged when they met. Dorje might have forgotten about the encounter.”

  Shona pondered over the news for a moment. Then asked, “Did Dorje also tell Toshio that Sonam was alive.”

  This time, Jeffrey showed surprise. “No! Sonam? Your son?”

  She nodded, before telling how she had come by the information. “He’s alive, somewhere. We have to find him.”

  Jeffrey was doubtful. “It’s been four years. Why did they take him in the first place? I don’t think…”

  Shona interrupted him. “I had plenty of time to wonder about that bit, Jeffrey, and you know I have a very vivid imagination, so spare me yours. I need Toshio to help me find my son, Jeffrey.”

  “Toshio is in jail. Life sentence.”

  “Find a way to get him out. We need him out, and in China, not behind those four walls.”

  Jeffrey thought about this for a minute. “There is no way we can do that discreetly, Shona. Ekbeth or the McLeans are going to find out you’re back.”

  “If they do, so be it. My problem. Concentrate on getting Toshio out and help him find my son for me.”

  That got her a long stare. “They won’t let you come out of that Valley of yours alive, Shona. There’s a death sentence waiting for you there. Ekbeth has told us as much.”

 

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