Spy Trap (Brodick Cold War Thriller Book 3) by John Fullerton

Author:John Fullerton [Fullerton, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lume Books
Published: 2022-04-20T16:00:00+00:00

17

What’s the matter? Bo Deli doesn’t look at all well as he trudges up the last steps and emerges onto the roof.

He looks haggard, worn out.

Fang doesn’t want to stare – she glances at him and looks away. The eyes give away his state of mind, she tells herself, and his are inflamed, with dark, puffy smudges below. It’s sheer fatigue and also worry at being tagged by strangers in a foreign county, and now surrounded – protected – by her people. No, it can’t be easy. She reckons his edginess is natural enough; it must be the effects of jet lag and the need for a night’s rest.

A large passenger plane floats past in the darkening sky some way to the north, lights blinking, moving west to east and preparing to land. The sky is turning a vivid gold and pink in the west – glorious with the setting sun and so much pollution.

Fang has a dozen Chang bottled beers on ice and she watches her helpers, led by Yang, drag the rough wooden tables together and set out the takeaways and plastic cutlery. The squad melts away, leaving Fang, Peacock and Bo Deli alone – but a squawk from Yang’s walkie-talkie tells Fang that she is still there, invisible, standing well back in the stairwell in case Fang needs her.

In the small pool, Peacock floats on his back, his belly uppermost, his sunburned face Buddha-like in its impassivity, staring up at the darkening sky. When Brodick appears and walks around the decking, Peacock stands upright in the water, runs a hand across his head and makes for the poolside, pulling himself up and puffing with the effort. His face looks brick red from exposure to the sun.

‘Good to see you, old man.’

Bo Deli doesn’t respond. He slips off his jacket – Fang sees he’s wearing a very crumpled and off-white tropical suit. Smart, but then again, he looks as if he’s slept in it.

Fang has spent enough time in Peacock’s company to know she doesn’t like the agent Brodick has handed over, making her, in effect, Bo Deli’s head agent. Not that a case officer has to like an agent, but it helps. She finds him loud, and his efforts to build a wall of extrovert tomfoolery both exhausting and unconvincing. She doesn’t trust him, though she has to give him credit for his financial work on the Eight Elders. He took good care, too, to leave papers in the Hong Kong safe for the raiders to find. They’re supposed to think they have all the data, and that will suffice. Peacock copied everything onto two sets of floppy discs, one set now in Fang’s possession, the other kept for Bo Deli.

All things considered, a peculiar dual loyalty has developed.

She wonders how Peacock feels about it.

Who does he think runs the show now – Brodick or Fang?

The issue comes up a few minutes later as Fang instructs Yang to organise her squad into two shifts, working 4 hours on, 4 off, and dividing them up between hostel and safe house.

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