Zero 22: Danny Black Thriller 8 by Ryan Chris

Author:Ryan, Chris [Ryan, Chris]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781473667952
Publisher: Hodder & Stoughton
Published: 2020-11-25T16:00:00+00:00

FIFTEEN

The General might have instructed his guys not to follow her, but Bethany couldn’t assume they’d obeyed.

It was seven forty-five. An hour and fifteen minutes since she had made contact with the General. His suite was on the third floor. He’d given Bethany – or Sophia, as she’d introduced herself – the room number, 318. Bethany took the plushly carpeted stairs but walked a circuit of the second floor to check she wasn’t being tailed. Her destination was hardly a secret, of course, but if she was being followed she would have to tell the General – or Frank, as he’d introduced himself – so that he could dismiss the overenthusiastic guard from outside his door. She hoped the procedure she had in mind would be silent, but she had to plan for the unexpected.

No tail. Back in the stairwell she could hear two men speaking in Russian on the floor below. Should that concern her? Chances were she could find guests from twenty different nations staying here if she cared to look. She moved to the third floor, found the General’s room and knocked.

She couldn’t help but be inwardly revolted when he opened the door in his hotel robe. It was a patterned Japanese kimono, knee-length, flimsy satin material. The General was a big guy and the kimono was almost comically inadequate. His greying chest hair was visible where the lapels crossed and his military ID tags, which he wore around his neck, nestled half-hidden in the hair. The sleeves stopped a good couple of inches above his wrist. His shins were much paler than his face and hands, and, although he was well built, his legs had lost all their hair like some older men’s do. But he seemed pleased with himself. Bethany forced herself to be outwardly appreciative, even though she found the pungent smell of aftershave and martinis unpleasant. ‘I see you’ve slipped into something more comfortable,’ she said.

‘When you spend as much time as I do in uniform . . .’

‘It must be stifling. Are you going to invite me in?’

The General raised an eyebrow, stepped to one side and gestured for Bethany to come in. The door clicked shut.

‘Nice,’ she said, looking around the well-appointed room. The blackout curtains were closed, blocking what Bethany’s sense of direction told her would be a view of the square at the front of the hotel. There was a comfortable sofa and a dining table. A large TV and even a small cocktail bar. Two doors on opposite walls. ‘I thought soldiers had to make do with grubby little barrack rooms.’

‘Oh sure, I’ve seen my share of those.’ He winked at her like a kindly uncle. Bethany had to stop herself cringing. ‘But there have to be a few privileges of rank, don’t you think?’

‘Were you going to offer me a drink?’ she said.

‘Name it. Uncle Sam’s paying.’

‘He sounds like a very generous uncle.’

‘Well, like lots of uncles, he has his good traits and his bad.’

There were tumblers, highball glasses and champagne flutes behind the bar.

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