Barry Eisler - Rain Storm aka Choke Point

“Who is he?” I asked.

“Well, his résumé says he’s with the Consular Affairs section of the State Department.”

I couldn’t help smiling. “Looks like Consular Affairs has a pretty wide-ranging brief these days.”

He smiled back. “They certainly do.”

“How’d you find this out?” I asked.

“Come on, buddy, I can’t tell you all my sources and methods! You know magicians don’t like to show how they do their tricks.”

I looked at him and said nothing.

“All right, all right, just having a little fun with you. No need to get so serious on me with those scary eyes and all. I ran the photos through a new Agency database. The database compiles images from electronic media-online versions of newspapers and magazines, video, whatever. You feed in your photo, the system goes out and tries to find a match using something called XML-entensible markup language, something like that. It’s like Google, but with pictures instead of words. I think they stole it from some start-up company.”

“It worked?” I said, thinking, Christ, what are they going to come up with next ?

“Well, sure, it worked. Gave me a couple thousand false positives, though. The Agency has a little way to go before Google has any reason to panic, I’ll tell you that. But you know me, I like to party, but I can be patient, too. I went through all the hits until I came across the unforgettable face of Mr. Crawley.” He reached into his pocket and took out a piece of paper, unfolded it, and handed it to me. “See there? That’s him, standing next to the Ambassador to Jordan at a press conference the Ambassador was giving in Amman. Doesn’t he look important?”

“Very. What did he want?”

He leaned forward. “Well, here’s where it gets interesting. He told me he represented very, very, senior interests in the U.S. government. But that, for national security reasons, these interests had to maintain good old ‘plausible deniability’ about certain courses of action and couldn’t meet with me personally as a result, much as they of course would otherwise like to. Yeah, ‘certain courses of action,’ I think that was how he put it. I think he liked hearing himself talk. Anyway, he told me that there was this former undercover operative who’d gone rogue and killed a bunch of friendlies in Hong Kong and Macau, and who needed to be ‘removed,’ is what he said. I said, ‘Removed?’ Having fun with the guy now, you understand. And he nods and says, with his voice serious, the way I guess he imagines Really Important Government representatives should talk about these things, ‘We want his actions terminated.’ Lord help me, I couldn’t stop myself, I said to him, with my eyes all wide now, ‘With Extreme Prejudice?’ And he just nods once, like he was afraid if his head had gone up and down more than that it could get him into trouble.”

“And then?”

“Oh, after that, the usual praise for my past service to my country and appeals to my patriotism. You know the drill. Then he tells me he’s got twenty-five thousand dollars for me right now, and another seventy-five thousand upon completion, if I take on this little service that Uncle Sam wants of me.”

“And you said?”

“I told him it would of course be an honor to serve my country on this most auspicious occasion. He gives me a key to a coin locker, shakes my hand, thanks me-again!-for my ‘patriotism,’ and walks away. I go to the locker, and who does it turn out this ‘rogue operator’ is? Well, none other than my friend from the good old days in ’Stan, the intelligent and charming Mr. John Rain.”

I nodded, considering, then said, “Why are you telling me all this? Didn’t you say, ‘opportunity only knocks once’? Why not do the job, take the money?”

He smiled at me. The smile said, I knew you were going to say that . I supposed it made him feel good to prove that, at least on certain occasions, he was capable of thinking ahead of me.

“I’ll tell you, buddy, there are some things a marine won’t do, not even to an army type like you. I figure we veterans have to stand up for each other, since no one else seems to want to. Besides, I didn’t much care for the way old Crawley treated me. Shoot, that boy made me out for nothing but a dumb cracker, didn’t he. Just like you do, if you don’t mind my not mincing my words.”

I looked at him. “I don’t think you’re half as dumb as you act, Dox. And you might not even be as dumb as that.”

He laughed. “I always knew you loved me.”

“What about the money?”

“Shit, I’d rather take twenty-five thousand for nothing than a hundred thousand for doing something that didn’t sit right with me, wouldn’t you?”

“Maybe. But won’t Crawley want the money back?”

“Well, he might, and I might like to give it to him. Trouble is, I can’t remember where I put it. Think maybe I invested it with a securities trader or some other unscrupulous type. It might already be gone.”

I smiled. “Crawley might be angry about that.”

“I expect he will be. He might even try to hire another ‘patriot’ to ‘remove’ me for taking advantage of him. But that would cost him another hundred grand. No, I think I know Mr. Crawley’s type. I think he’ll decide it’s best to just swallow the insult and live to fight another day. That is, if he lives another day. I know the news I’m giving you might make you righteous angry. It would me.”

He picked up his soup bowl, raised it to his mouth, and drained it. “Aaaaah,” he said, setting the bowl down on the table and leaning back in his chair. “Nothing like caterpillar fungus. You know, there’s one more thing. You may not have noticed it at the time, but you were always decent to me in ’Stan. I was the only one there who hadn’t served in Vietnam, and the other guys were a little cliquish, I always thought. Made me feel like I wasn’t welcome. You weren’t like that. Not that you ever acted like we were long-lost brothers, but you didn’t seem to have a problem with me, either.”

I shrugged. “You were good in the field.”

He nodded and started to say something, then looked down and swallowed. What I’d said had been as dry to me as it was true, and I wasn’t expecting any particular response in reaction. So it took me a second to realize that Dox was struggling with his emotions.

After a moment he looked at me, his eyes determined, almost fierce. “And that’s all that should count,” he said.

I thought of the rumors I’d heard in Afghanistan about how he’d had to leave the Corps after getting physical with an officer. “Somebody once tell you otherwise?” I asked.

He drummed his fingers on the table, looking into the dregs of his caterpillar soup. Then he said, “I’m a damn good sniper, man. Damn good. I’d never been in combat before ’Stan, but I knew what I could do. Top of my class at Sniper School at Quantico. But there was one instructor who had it in for me. Because, even though my skills were top-quality-spotting and target detection, stalking and movement, marksmanship-I didn’t always act like what a sniper is supposed to act like.”

I couldn’t help a gentle smile. “You’re a little more reserved than most snipers,” I said.

He smiled back. “Yeah, snipers tend to be a soft-spoken breed, it’s true. They start out that way, and their work reinforces the tendency. But I’m not like that, and never was. When I’m in the zone, I’m as stealthy and deadly as anyone. But when I’m not in the zone, I need to cut loose sometimes. That’s just who I am.”

I nodded, surprised at the sympathy I felt. “And not everyone liked that.”

He shrugged. “You know, regular military types aren’t comfortable with snipers. They think we’re cold-blooded killers, assassins, whatever. Sure, it’s okay to return fire in a mad minute firefight, or mortar someone from a mile away, but moving through the woods like a ghost? Picking up your quarry’s sign like he’s just a deer or something? Stalking him, or waiting in a hide, then blowing his brains out with Zen-like calm? You should hear the way the regulars will beg for your help when they’ve got a problem that only a sniper can solve, though. Then you’re everybody’s daddy. Of course, that’s only until the problem’s solved. Anyway, what snipers do, it all makes the hypocrites uncomfortable.”