Michael Walters - The Shadow Walker

There was no polite waiting for the pilot to turn off the seatbelt signs. As soon as the aircraft stopped moving, the crowd of passengers jumped up, as though coordinated, and began to scramble for their luggage in the overhead compartments. Somewhere behind, Drew once again heard the sound of a clucking chicken.

Only Nergui remained motionless in his seat. “There’s no rush,” he said. “We might as well relax.”

Drew didn’t feel too relaxed, but he was glad of the opportunity to recover from his airborne ordeal. “Is the flight always like that?” he asked.

“More or less. Not always that smooth.” Nergui smiled gently, and once again it was difficult to be sure whether he was joking.

With remarkable speed, the crowd of passengers poured toward the rear entrance, and Drew and Nergui rose to follow. Outside, the sky was clear blue and the sun was already high. This late in the year, though, the temperature was cool.

Drew followed Nergui down the stairs and across the runway to the small concrete airport building. There were no passport or customs controls at what was exclusively a domestic airport. The arrival hall was anonymous, another example of Communist functionality. A couple of uniformed police men were standing conspicuously in the corner, watching the disembarking passengers without interest.

Nergui walked over and engaged them in conversation, pulling his formal ID from his pocket to show them. Instantly, both men jumped to attention. They didn’t quite salute, but they showed Nergui a respect which had been noticeably absent in their earlier demeanor.

Nergui beckoned him over, and spoke what were clearly a few words of introduction to the two officers. Both nodded toward him.

“They’re going to take us to the airport manager,” Nergui said. “I don’t imagine there’s much he’ll be able to tell us himself, but I think it’s only courteous that we speak to him before we start bothering his staff.”

They followed the police officers out of the main hall, and along a corridor to a small, sparsely furnished office. A small harassed-looking man was sitting behind a desk, scribbling figures down on a bundle of papers and occasionally stabbing numbers into a large, old-fashioned-looking calculator. He looked up impatiently as they came in.

Nergui spoke a few words and introduced Drew, who nodded politely. The manager brushed aside his papers and spoke brusquely to Nergui. Even without any understanding of the words, it was clear that he was not pleased to have them there. Nergui spoke a few quiet words in return, and the man rose, his chair scraping back across the polished wooden floor. He spoke angrily and stalked over to the window, which looked out on to gray concrete walls.

Nergui looked back at Drew and smiled faintly. “We don’t seem very welcome,” he said.

“I had that impression,” Drew said. “What’s the problem?”

“I’m not entirely clear,” Nergui said, still smiling. “Our friend seems to be under the impression that we will disrupt the smooth running of his operation, and spread fear and anxiety among the passengers.”

“You’ve told him we’ll be very discreet?”

“Of course. But he doesn’t appear to be reassured.” The smile was still fixed on Nergui’s face, but as he turned back toward the airport manager, his face returned to its familiar blank mask. He spoke a few more calm words to the manager, who once again responded angrily, stamping his foot petulantly on the floor.

Afterward, Drew couldn’t actually recall seeing Nergui move. But suddenly he was standing only inches away from the airport manager, his eyes blazing. Nergui spoke, still softly, not raising his voice. Drew had no idea what the words meant, but he could feel the sense of threat even from across the room. The manager blinked, and Drew reflected to himself that it was the first time he had ever seen the blood genuinely drain from someone’s face. The manager’s mouth opened once, twice, but no sounds came out. Nergui said something more, and the man nodded quickly, his eyes blinking.

Nergui turned back toward Drew and, like a light bulb being switched on, the smile returned. “That’s fine,” Nergui said. “Just a little misunderstanding, I think. We can see anyone we like, and our friend here will be only too pleased to make the introductions.”

Drew found that he could barely speak himself. “That’s very nice of him,” he said, finally.

“Isn’t it?” Nergui said. “But we’re a friendly people.”

Nergui led the way out of the office, and back into the main hall, the manager now scuttling along behind him.

“What was all that about, anyway?” Drew said, as he hurried along behind Nergui. “Just bureaucracy?”

Nergui spoke without looking back. He was heading toward a group of uniformed check-in staff, who were standing chatting by one of the desks. “I don’t know,” he said. “I thought at first he was just being difficult-you know, the usual petty official protecting his turf. But then I got the impression there was something else, that he might actually be frightened.”

“I’m not surprised he was frightened,” Drew said, deciding that there was little mileage in not being fully open. “You scared the life out of me, let alone him.”

Nergui laughed. “No, before that,” he said. “I was doing my usual, polite officer of the law piece, flattering him into helping. You know the kind of thing-?”

Drew knew it all too well. It usually worked okay with the petty official type.

“-and he was stonewalling. Not just being difficult, but looking genuinely anxious at the thought of helping us out. That was why I put the screws on a bit.”

“You think he’s afraid of something? Or someone?”

Nergui shrugged. “Possibly. Who knows?”

By this time, he had reached the group of check-in staff, who were looking at him with some curiosity, assuming that he was a passenger in search of information. Before Nergui could speak, the manager had caught up with him and interjected, gesturing backward and forward between Nergui and the others as he effected introductions.

Drew watched him closely. It was frustrating, tailing behind Nergui, unable to contribute meaningfully to any interviews, spending half the time wondering what the hell was going on. But the one advantage of his position was that he could at least watch carefully the expressions and body language of those that Nergui was addressing.

Nergui was right, he thought. This man did look more anxious than the situation justified. Even if one accepted the supposed reason-concerns about disturbing passengers and staff-this did not explain the gleam of sweat that had already appeared on the manager’s forehead. It surely couldn’t be the first time that the police had wished to investigate on site-this was an airport, after all. But as the manager hopped from one foot to the other, twisting his head and interrupting as though having to interpret to the staff what Nergui was saying, he did look scared. He was doing his best to conceal it, with overeager smiling and laughing, but even some of the staff were regarding him oddly.

Nergui simply ignored him, talking steadily and calmly to the group of staff. After a few moments, he reached into his jacket and brought out the picture of Delgerbayar which he had copied from the police files. He showed it around the group, allowing them time to gaze fully at the face. Nergui had shown Drew the photograph during the flight. It looked to be a well-taken photograph, though Drew could not relate it to the white, blood stained visage he had seen.

As Drew watched, one of the female staff in the group began to nod enthusiastically, talking hurriedly to Nergui. She was gesturing toward the photograph and then pointing toward a spot across the hall, close to the exit doors. As she pointed, she spotted a colleague walking slowly through the hall and called out to him. He looked up as she shouted, then hurried over to join the group. Drew wasn’t clear what was going on, but it appeared to be important. Nergui was engaged in intense conversation with the woman, then, when the newcomer arrived, he turned and spoke rapidly to him also. The man was nodding and pointing over to the same spot.