But there was still an element of threat to the intended victims. He was helped in making his decision from the knowledge that by reason of their illegal entry they had already broken the law.
“We have to wait until the last possible moment,” he rumbled tersely. The look on the lieutenant's face was visible even in the darkness. “All right then—the moment before the last possible moment. But we have to hold back until the foreign woman commits. At least until she draws a weapon. Otherwise, even if she is carrying, we cannot prove intent.”
Johar nodded to show that he understood. What he did not show was how thankful he was that it was the chief inspector and not him who would have to decide how long to wait before giving the order to move in and save the three trespassers.
“How much longer, Taneer?” Depahli's feet were starting to hurt. It had been a long time since she had traded in bare feet for sandals, and then sandals for fancy shoes, and her feet were protesting the regression. At least, she thought, nothing had leaped out of the looming, dark jungle to confront them. Perhaps Taneer was right and it was perfectly safe after all. But no matter how much time passed without anything untoward happening, or how many times her beloved reassured her, she still could not entirely shake fears that had clung to her since childhood.
Sanjay was faring better. Trailing his employer and the beautiful girlfriend, he had almost convinced himself that he could pull off the requested impersonation. Taneer had assured him that the likelihood of any real trouble was very small because both sides wished for a speedy consummation of their agreement and terms had already been agreed upon. The shopkeeper had gone so far as to purchase not only an entirely new and alien outfit consisting of black pants, vest, and dark embroidered shirt, but shoes with built-in air lifts that made him appear five centimeters taller. His new, albeit artificial perspective on the world had further increased his confidence.
Some of it evaporated when they reached an open tank intended to supply water to roving animals. The facility had been built to resemble a natural watering hole. Both the well housing and supply pipe stood artfully concealed nearby. Waiting with obvious impatience by one side of the shimmering artificial pond was a large, neatly dressed European clad in walking shoes and expensive synthetic tropical silks. The ambient light from the beamer he held revealed him to be of exceptionally pale complexion, as if he was unused to being exposed to the sun.
His companion was Indian and much bigger. He was, in fact, the biggest Indian Sanjay had ever encountered in person, though many members of the national basketball team were taller. An impressive mustache, curving upward at the tips, shadowed bulging cheeks. Though fully clothed, it was clear that his arms were larger in diameter than the shopkeeper's legs.
Mindful of his responsibility, Sanjay tried to make himself appear even taller, adopted a grim, no-nonsense expression, and moved closer to the couple he was supposed to be “protecting.”
Stepping forward, Taneer left Depahli behind with Sanjay and extended a hand. The European's palm was damp with sweat, as was his face. “Mr. Karlovy?”
“Rotten climate, this.” It was a good thing the visitor was a respected businessman, because he was certainly no diplomat. “Don't know how you people stand it. Don't know how my ancestors stood it.”
“It's easier to acclimate to a place when you are born there,” Taneer replied without rancor. “As for the other thing, your ancestors stood it because there was money to be made here. Often, though not always, by stealing it.” He smiled in the darkness as an owl hooted softly somewhere in the trees. “Which brings us to why we are both here now, tonight, suffering in the heat and humidity.”
Karlovy nodded appreciatively. “A man of directness. As are most in your profession.” Turning slightly, he gestured behind and to one side. “As agreed, I have brought one escort with me. This is Punjab.”
The bodyguard crossed thick arms over his equally massive chest, assumed the pose of a mighty one, and grinned. “It is a nickname. My father was a connoisseur of old comic strips. I am actually from Nagpur. Not that either my name or my place of birth matter.” The smile went away, to be replaced by something very different. Bravely, Sanjay did his best to match it. “I am here to make sure Mr. Karlovy is not robbed.”
“Nobody's here to rob anybody.” Taneer spoke soothingly to the big man, then turned his attention back to the European. “Let's do what we came to do.”
Crouched low in the bushes nearby, Jena observed the byplay uncertainly. It mattered to her not in the least what the two new gentlemen were doing out in the middle of the forest, nor why they were meeting with the three she had been following. What was important was that there were now five where a few moments ago there had been three.
The opportunity was without equal in her experience. Five potential souls to set free. It would be a blessing above all others. But she hesitated. She had never before taken so many at one time. The wonderful isolation of the spot was more than she could have wished for. But still, five—and one of them looking to be a very chancy undertaking indeed. She could take the big man first, of course, but if she ran into difficulty there, even an unarmed foursome could give her trouble, if only with fists and feet and stones. They remained unaware of her presence, which gave her time to decide.
Should she risk it? She had trained herself to move fast, very fast, but she had already decided that success was incumbent on taking down the biggest of the five first, and swiftly. At least they seemed in no hurry to leave, with two of the men conversing softly while the others looked on.
If they all left together, that would tell her something. But if they split into two groups again, it would make her decision easier.
She decided to wait.
Keshu stared at the image the high-hovering, night-piercing drone was relaying to his readout. Who the devil were the two men who had just appeared on the screen, and what were they doing meeting the first three in the middle of the jungle, in the middle of the night? Sensitive though it was, because it was compelled to keep out of easy range of those it was tracking the drone could not pick up their conversation. So he had no idea what was being talked about. Poaching? Proposed illegal real estate incursions, that were always a problem on the borders of parks and preserves near and within the city? Trading in illegal drugs?
What mattered was that—it didn't matter. Legal, illegal, or purely recreational, any discussion taking place in the forest was not germane to his reason for being there. He and his officers were present for one reason and one only: to obtain convincing evidence on a possible serial killer and then reel her in. The suspect was still present, thank goodness, but her heat signature had stopped moving when the other pair had put in their unexpected appearance. Cursing silently to himself, he knew that it was entirely possible the arrival of the newcomers would intimidate her to a degree where she would simply withdraw, at which point he would have to make the difficult decision as to whether to order her arrest or not. The two recent arrivals, whoever they were and whatever their purpose, threatened to spoil everything.
He held his spinner up next to Johar's. The images were identical, which meant that the two apparent newcomers were just that and not electronic artifacts.
“Any idea who these new people might be, Lieutenant?”
“No, Chief Inspector. What can the five of them be doing here?” Johar stared off into the night, as though the answer might magically arise from the trees in the form of glowing, hovering words. “What do you want to do?”
It was, for once, a simple decision.
He decided to wait.
Their brief conversation concluded, Karlovy turned and walked back to the water tank, which was fashioned of cast resin to resemble natural stone. Moments passed. Taneer waited nonchalantly, though he was anything but indifferent. Depahli tried not to fidget. As for Sanjay and the one nicknamed Punjab, they exchanged steady, unwavering stares. It was the most difficult thing the shopkeeper had ever done in his life, including the ti
me he had taken delivery of a packet of drugs from an unthinking courier while a traffic policeman was searching through his shop hoping to find a present for his wife.
When he rejoined them, the European was carrying what at first glance appeared to be an ordinary briefcase. Closer inspection under the light of Taneer's beam revealed it to be made of a material Sanjay did not recognize. Two strips of metal ran around it lengthwise, and it was thicker than most such he had seen. Karlovy proceeded to whisper to it, softly and at length. Then he manipulated something on the top of the case that Sanjay could not make out clearly in the wavering light. The case responded with an audible hum, as if releasing a cloud of electronic bees into the night, and the top softly clicked open. A single tiny LED illuminated the interior. The European held the open case out toward Taneer, as if presenting an offering. His voice was a monotone, neither enticing nor reproving.
“Ten million. As stipulated; one third in dollars, one third in euros, the rest in rupees. The down payment you requested in cash. As per our agreement the balance will be transferred later, by means and to the foreign account you specify. The bills have been tested for marks and stainchips. They are all clean. If you wish, I will wait while you perform a random testing.”
Struggling to appear nonchalant, Taneer shrugged and took the case. Considerably less indifferent, Sanjay and Depahli eyed the contents in open disbelief. Even Punjab edged forward for a closer look. One did not see even that much fake currency in movies.
After a cursory inspection of the neatly bound bills, Taneer snapped the case shut. “Security transfer?” he queried the European.
Karlovy was clearly struggling to contain his impatience. “After I have received the commodity, please.”
Taneer hesitated only briefly before reaching into a safety pocket. Squeezing the interior seal with thumb and forefinger allowed the sewn-in unit to read both prints, whereupon the armored lining parted, allowing him access to its contents. Taking out two glassine packets each no bigger than a playing card, he handed them to the European. Karlovy's continental savoir faire deserted him as he accepted the offering with fingers that trembled ever so slightly. One packet contained a single mollysphere. The other held concrete, irrefutable evidence that had sprung from the information contained on the storage device.
Unable to restrain himself, knowing he would never have the opportunity to see anything like this again, Sanjay leaned forward for a better look as the European played his hand beam over the two packets, examining their contents intently. On the one hand was the case containing more actual money than he would have believed existed in the world. On the other, the two small transparent packets.
Though he raised no objection and offered no comment, it did not seem to him in spite of everything he had been told to constitute a fair trade.
The European, however, was visibly thrilled. Without looking up from his inspection he instructed Taneer. “Security reset is on the top of the case. I have already primed it for you. Slide your thumb over it three times. The unit will beep three times to signify acceptance. Next to the pickup is a small integrated mike into which you may whisper whatever passwords you wish. Both must be utilized to reopen the case.” He finally looked up from his examination. “A powdered explosive is integrated into the body of the case itself. Any unauthorized attempt to force the seal will result in an explosion that will destroy the contents as well as anyone in its immediate vicinity.”
Taneer nodded knowingly, as if he dealt with this sort of thing every day. He indicated the packet containing the molly. “Anyone can access three-quarters of the information via a standard reader. Any attempt to access the remaining fourth will result in a permanent sphere wipe. You get the rest of the code when I receive the rest of the payment.”
The European nodded understandingly. “All as we agreed. It will be a standard simultaneous quantum exchange. If either side holds back any element of the agreement, the transfer will not eventuate. My consortium receives the rest of the code; you get the information that allows you to access a certain safe deposit box in Zurich.” Now he did smile, albeit austerely. “Where I presume you will be when the final transfer is made. All quite neat and clean, as such transactions are meant to be.” Apparently feeling it was time to let his guard down a little bit, if only for reasons of diplomacy, he added, “You will like Zurich, I think. Everyone who goes there does.” He drew the back of his left hand across his forehead. “A much more civilized climate.”
Taneer nodded and smiled back. “We'll stop by there just long enough to conclude our business, I think, and then we'll be on our way elsewhere.”
Jena had still not decided what to do: whether to remain where she was, retreat and ascribe the situation to bad karma, or wait and see if the group of five once again split into its original parts. She was still debating with herself, praying for guidance, when the big man who had accompanied the European suddenly twitched, started to turn where he stood, and fell over. He lay there on the ground; unmoving, a large hill-like silhouette in the darkness. His companion gaped down at him. She crouched lower in her hiding place as hand beams swung wildly, searching the night. One swept past just over her head. None of them happened to focus on the right spot—but she did.
Something else was coming out of the darkness.
Keshu stared at the readout on his spinner. The overhead view from the uncomplaining drone was still as responsive as it could be, but it was not nearly informative enough.
A sixth shape had suddenly appeared, to join the other five. It had not entered from one side of the screen or the other, as would normally be the case. The human heat signature had simply materialized as if out of nowhere. Adding to the confusion was that the largest of the original heat signatures had stopped moving and was beginning to fade slightly.
As an officer with long experience in interpreting such readouts, he did not need someone to explain to him what it meant when a human's infrared signature began to pale. It meant that the body in question was growing colder, and in this particular instance clearly not from exposure to the sultry night air of the jungle. As if the situation was not already complicated enough, the baffling appearance of a new figure was more problematical. Once again, experience supplied a realistic explanation.
“Inspector…?” Johar prompted him. Looking baffled, the lieutenant was fixated on his own readout. “Pardon my English, but—what the hell?”
“The downed individual has been shot, or otherwise severely impacted,” Keshu explained. “Probably, but we cannot be certain as yet, by this intruder. As for the newcomer, I would guess he arrived draped in a camo suit of some kind. Possibly illicit ex-military. It would mask not only his heat signature but his shape. A little lightbending goes a long way at night.”
“Yes, sir,” Johar agreed, visibly impressed that his superior was not impressed. “But what does it mean?”
“It means,” Keshu told him, taking a long breath, “that our neat little plan of action and follow-up has taken on an unexpected dimension. One that I just as soon could have done without.”
The lieutenant held his spinner up to his mouth, and waited. “Orders, Chief Inspector?”
Desire and knowledge wrestling within him, Keshu's lips tightened as he tried to fabricate the right response. Unable to conjure one, he stalled. No matter what sort of confrontation they had accidentally stumbled into, no matter its consequences, he had no choice but to remain focused on the reason for his presence here in the first place: the foreign woman Chalmette. As for the rest of it, whatever “it” turned out to be, like so much unexpected rubbish it could be cleaned up later.
For the second time that night, he decided to wait.
Ignoring the shocked starlit stares of the four individuals still standing, Chal Schneemann pushed back the hood of his camo suit as he walked up to the body of Punjab and deliberately kicked the prone man hard in the back of his head, above the spot where a tiny transparent dart now protruded from his neck. No sound
emanated from the motionless figure. Always one to be sure, Chal moved around to the front of the body and kicked again, breaking the nose. Frozen to the spot next to Taneer, Depahli made a small whining noise as she looked on, wide-eyed.
Blood appeared, flowing freely from the bodyguard's face. Still no reaction. Satisfied, Chal shifted the muzzle of the small hand weapon he held in his right hand until it was aimed in the general direction of both the visiting businessman and the Indian scientist. Noting the direction of their stares, he gestured slightly with the gun.
“This uses highly compressed gas to fire syringets containing a powerful concentrated neurotoxin derived from the venom of the banded sea krait. It paralyzes muscles almost instantly. It freezes hearts.” He indicated the large and rapidly chilling corpse off to his left. “I dislike having to kill a colleague, but there is simply too much at stake here to take chances.” Shifting his gaze, he locked onto Taneer's face.
“I'm supposed to bring you back with me, alive.” His eyes shifted imperceptibly to his left. “I assure you that's going to happen. Whether your lady friend comes with us or not is up to you.”
Quaking in his air shoes, a frightened Sanjay wondered why, if this terrifying person wished to take no chances, he himself had not already also gone the way of the dead bodyguard. Then it occurred to him that the masquerade that had deceived the European businessman and his associate had not for an instant fooled this person. Whoever he was, he had straightaway seen the sham for what it was.
Whether he would still kill the poor shopkeeper or not was something that could not be predicted, nor inferred from the executioner's manner. Sanjay would not wait to find out. Silently, he began reciting his own final prayers. He would be sorry to die only because it meant he would not be able to see Chakra and the children again.
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