The Boat Man: A Thriller (A Reed & Billie Novel Book 1) by Stevens Dustin

Author:Stevens, Dustin [Stevens, Dustin]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2015-09-11T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirty-Four

The old man had said late afternoon, but the Boat Man didn’t have that kind of time to wait. Already, he had put his plans on hold for a day, a pause that could potentially undo everything he had worked so hard for.

In the months that led up to the action, there was no predetermined time frame. It could have started in April or August, rain or shine, weekday or weekend. The only thing of paramount importance was that once the initial strike was made, once the dominos started to fall, they must do so with speed and precision.

The damage to his blade was a fluke accident that was unforeseeable. It had cost him a precious day, one that could have sent his targets into hiding, disappearing into obscurity or raising their security to a level that would have ensured the Boat Man’s mission became a kamikaze run.

His observations the night before had showed they either hadn’t yet put together the connection or had failed to give their enemy his proper due.

Either way, he couldn’t risk waiting any longer and letting them come to their senses.

The bell above the door to the Japanese man’s shop rang as the Boat Man stepped inside, the scent of incense engulfing him. It was so strong it brought tears to his eyes as he turned away, moving down the first aisle, feigning interest at the items on the shelves as the man rang up an elderly couple at the front counter.

The Boat Man could hear them talking as he pretended to browse packets of dried spices, knowing each one by name, all reminders of a life he once knew.

Would never know again.

Tucked away in the back of the store, he waited until he heard the bell a second time before moving up the aisle, the old man standing at the front counter, both hands pressed to the glass, waiting for him.

He wore a dour expression as he watched the Boat Man approach, shaking his head.

“Nintai ha iwa o mo toosu,” he said in his native tongue, his voice conveying his age, the grave nature of the words he was reciting.

The Boat Man felt his eyebrows come together as he reached the front counter. “Meaning?”

“Patience will pierce even a rock,” he replied. “Japanese proverb.”

It was plain what the old man was trying to say, but the Boat Man had no interest in hearing it. He had a job to complete, a promise to fulfill. Either the old man could help with that, or he could get out of the way and let the Boat Man find somebody who could.

“Ain’t nobody got time for that,” the Boat Man replied. “Sweet Brown.”

The two stood off from each other, neither blinking, the sweet smoke of burning incense rising between them.

“Is it done?” the Boat Man asked, trying to mask the anxiety, the anticipation in his tone.

Still the old man remained frozen before stepping back and bending at the waist. The Boat Man fought the urge to lean

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