Forsaken by Russell Blake

Author:Russell Blake [Blake, Russell]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Reprobatio, Ltd.
Published: 2016-11-15T08:00:00+00:00

Chapter 26

The row house was dark at eleven p.m., as were most of the rest in the working-class neighborhood at that hour. A figure dressed head to toe in black darted from behind a shade tree in the tiny front yard and sprinted down the sidewalk toward an intersection where cars still drove by. When the figure reached the corner, it hooked right and slowed, and the blur of dark motion solidified into a woman wearing pants and a long-sleeved shirt.

Jet had decided before dinner that she was going to nose around the convention center no matter what her handler preferred – it wasn’t Leah’s life on the line, and Jet probably had more operational experience than the older woman, having packed three lifetimes’ worth in her relatively few years of active duty. So she’d waited until Leah had retired, slipped from the house with a wad of the local currency the Mossad had been thoughtful enough to provide, and made a beeline for freedom.

Now, the challenge was to find her way to the convention center without getting mugged or picked up and questioned by the police. She didn’t expect the latter; but given the neighborhood, had her doubts about the former.

The lights of a small market glowed on the far corner, and she set off toward it, waiting until there were no cars before running across the six lanes. At the store, she waited in front until she spotted a taxi approaching and waved it down. The driver appeared surprised to find a fare in that district, much less an attractive female with an impressive physique, and spent most of the drive ogling her in the rearview mirror.

Jet had him drop her off a block from the exhibition hall, which was adjacent to the world-famous futuristic white curves of the Heydar Aliyev Center – a landmark in Baku and one of the most recognizable buildings in the region, as iconic as the Sydney Opera House or the Eiffel Tower. The area was surprisingly active, considering the time, with couples strolling together toward the waterfront and groups of youths meandering with no obvious destination.

The pedestrians made her job easier, and she circled the huge complex, eyeing the security that was already in place, relieved to see that the rear loading area was still bustling with truckers and contractors working to get last minute exhibit arrivals into the hall in time for the opening. The scene was pure chaos – loaders pushing dollies laden with crates, cleaning staff milling about, harried-looking exhibitors burning the midnight oil all swarming the open doors – and the guards stationed on either side weren’t looking particularly attentive.

She watched the commotion for half an hour and, when a phalanx of cleaning people arrived, joined their ranks as they filed into the hall. She hunched over so her bearing wouldn’t flag her as an outlier, kept her head down, and stayed toward the middle of the group of over fifty janitors, none of whom seemed thrilled about working the graveyard shift, many smelling of alcohol.

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