Red Dragon by Jerry Pournelle

Author:Jerry Pournelle [Pournelle, Jerry]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Science Fiction
ISBN: 0-441-71092-1
Publisher: Baen Books
Published: 2008-10-01T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

I walked through a maze of alleyways to the more inhabited streets, made a few excursions off my direct route just for the fun of it, and headed back to my hotel. I thought somebody might be behind me, probably de la Torres or his troops, but I didn't worry about losing them. He'd find me easily enough.

The evening had been a waste of time, but I'd expected that. Vallery wanted to make one more try without producing the money. Now he'd have to go to his buyer. I hoped Vallery could talk him into it. If he could, this whole thing would be over in a day or so, and Janie and I could go back to Seattle. Thinking about that got me to worrying about Witch of Endor. She'd have to be trucked, I sure as hell wasn't going to sail a boat up that coast against the prevailing winds. As I walked along, I gave some thought to the problem of a wooden boat out of the water on a truck. In that warm climate, she'd dry out fast and the seams would open up.

I wanted a drink, but the noise level in the Lost Knight was worse than ever. They had a combo of some kind in there, with a character who seemed determined to swallow the mike wailing about his long-lost love, or maybe it was his dog that was lost. I gave up on the Lost Knight and entered the elevator. A couple of little girls got off as it came down to the lobby, pretty little teenagers in skirts and low-heeled shoes, chattering in Japanese, although I don't think I'd noticed they were Oriental until I heard them talking, they looked so Western. The way our teenagers dress, the typical Western-looking kids will all be foreigners in a few years.

A couple of guys made a rush for the elevator and I held it for them. After the doors closed I pushed the button for two, then, when they made no move to the controls, looked at them. One of them had a knife which he pushed against my ribs.

"Be very quiet, Mr. Crane," he said. "Keep your hands out where we can see them, and act natural. If you attract any attention, I will kill you."

"Sure." I tried to do what he wanted. The Luger in my belt seemed a good fifty miles away with that knife in my back. The elevator doors opened and they walked along with me, saying something about how nice it was to run into me here. "Which room is yours, Paul?" the knife artist asked for the benefit of the beefy character getting ice out of the machine by the elevator.

"It's down here." They were behind me, and I hadn't had a very good look at them. From what I remembered they were just average-looking guys, although the one with a knife had a flat face that might have been partly Oriental. It might have been Slavic for that matter.

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