The Ninja and the Diplomat by Hock G Tjoa

Author:Hock G Tjoa [Tjoa, Hock G]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Print version published by Createspace
Published: 2015-09-03T16:00:00+00:00

***

Three hours later, scrubbed and buffed under the prodding and supervision of men like his jailer, Viktor appeared before the Boss. It was someone he had only heard spoken of in hushed tones. Over the decades, he had spoken with him only three or four times times and only once had he felt the necessity to telephone the Boss. Now he gazed at a man sitting behind a desk in a room like that in a business hotel. He was blond but balding, not fat, and seemingly mild-mannered.

“Sit down, Viktor. You deserve to know why you are here. I was going to have you killed in the bar fight but I changed my mind. I want to help you understand why this must happen. After all, you have served your country well, in Afghanistan I believe, and then around the world in your true calling.” A waiter brought in a tray with champagne, cigars and caviar as well as the obligatory vodka. “I hope you don’t mind Kauffman. Indulge me, I know you prefer the Snow Queen.”

“This feels like my last supper,” whispered Viktor who surprised himself by his own calm.

“It is, so we should not rush this,” noted the Boss. “Please, help yourself. Nothing has been poisoned.”

“Except for your trust,” said Viktor as he drained his glass of vodka in a single gulp and helped himself to the caviar, expertly ladling a small mound onto a piece of toast with a slice of lemon.

“Alas, Viktor,” replied his host, “I cannot tell a lie.”

“It would have been acceptable had the Chinese not intervened,” suggested Viktor.

“It appears that they were looking for an excuse. It is a good question why that should be so. But they were prepared and now some part of our operations is in their database. Kim did not call them somehow, did he?”

“I don’t think so,” declared the honored guest at his own funeral. “I have never suspected him of being so resourceful.”

“Perhaps the Chinese observed or heard about your performance in the parking lot the night before,” accused the Boss. “Certainly, they would have been watching the hotel security monitors.”

He spoke softly but Viktor knew the evening would not end with forgiveness. The cameras! Why hadn’t he thought to do something about the hotel cameras? He was angry with himself but philosophically accepted the futility of crying over spilled milk.

“A last cigar? I believe you favor the Hoyo Epicure.”

Viktor accepted one of Castro’s gifts to the old Soviet. It was a rare treat for him. His mind had slipped into a strange calmness at the inevitability of the final curtain. He accepted a light and a glass of champagne from the waiter.

“The breach of discipline introduced an unacceptable element of uncertainty and risk into our mission and exposed our operations, I hope you understand that,” concluded the Boss. Viktor merely nodded. “Will you excuse me, Viktor? I must attend to the usual pressing matters. Please stay to finish all this, if you wish.”

Viktor helped himself to more caviar as the Boss walked out.

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