Barry Eisler - Rain Storm aka Choke Point

“Well, you don’t look so hot, but I’m pretty sure you ain’t dead. I would say, though, that we ought to get out of here.”

“Mmmmmm,” I said, looking past him at a dark and suddenly retreating shape that flickered at the edge of my vision. Only teasing , Death seemed to be saying over his shoulder with a rictus smile, with good humor and an oddly paternal affection. Take care of yourself, okay? We’ll play again .

Dox stooped and got his head under my arm, then straightened. We started walking toward the fence.

“What about… what about the money?” I asked, not understanding what was happening.

“Well, it was a heartbreaker, I won’t deny it, but I had to abandon the big payday and come to your rescue. I meant to get here sooner, but there was a lot going on back at the ranch and I had a fair amount of ground to cover. Plus these PSG/1’s are heavy, even for musclemen like me.”

“You just… you just let it go?” I asked, trying to take it in.

I felt him shrug. “I don’t give a damn about money if my buddy’s in trouble, partner, and I know you feel the same.”

I didn’t respond. “What about… what happened in front of the gate? That other car?”

I lost my footing for a second, but Dox’s arm, tight around my waist, kept me going. “Now there’s one nobody would believe if I were to tell ’em,” he said. “I don’t know who Belghazi’s pal is, the white fella, I mean, but he’s quite a shooter. He dropped one of the men in that Toyota, and then, when the two Arabs who came in the van got up from humping the ground, he capped them both point-blank. They seemed a bit surprised at the time. He and the other fella from the Toyota had each other pinned down after that. They both had good cover, and I couldn’t wait for a shot ’cause I thought you might need my help. Too bad, too. If I’d been able to take them both down, that bag would be waiting for us right now. Well, it might be, still. We’ll see in a minute.”

“Hilger… he was shooting them all?”

“Hilger? Ah, the white one. Yeah, he sure was. I don’t think that boy wanted anyone around to contradict the story he was making up about how all this carnage occurred and his role in it. He’s a resourceful one, and cold-blooded, too. Hell, Kanezaki ought to hire him for the shit we do.”

We got to the street and paused. I heard gunshots from in front of the gate, then return fire from inside the Toyota.

“Damn, those boys haven’t killed each other yet,” Dox said. “Looks like we’re shit out of luck. Here we go.”

He pulled me across the street fast. If Hilger or the Arab noticed, they gave no sign of it. They had each other to worry about.

A few seconds later we were on the other side, heading upward, enveloped by darkness. I lost my footing again and this time couldn’t find it. For a moment I felt I was floating on water, that some sea creature had risen up beneath me and lifted me onto its snout. My head cleared, and I realized Dox had picked me up over an enormous shoulder and was carrying me.

“Wait,” I said. “Put me down. The money’s right there, if you can drop those two.”

“Partner, you are bleeding out,” I heard him say from under me. He didn’t even break stride. “Don’t worry about the money. We’ll get another chance.”

I drifted away again. When I came to, we were back at the van we had rented. Dox laid me out in the rear and slammed the door. The engine gunned and we drove off. A moment later, I heard him on the cell phone. His tone was urgent but I was fading in and out again and couldn’t make out what he was saying. Something about a doctor, maybe.

“Come on, man,” I heard him bellowing from somewhere in front of me. It seemed that his voice was coming from a great distance. “Stay with me now. Kanezaki’s scrambling a doctor and I need to know your blood type.”

“AB,” I said, my lips moving thickly. “AB negative.”

“Well, thank God for small miracles! A universal recipient! Come on down!”

I WAS GONE a long time after that. When I woke up, I was in a bed in a dingy room. I looked around. Taupe drapes from another millennium. An old television on a cheap dresser. A metal door with a peephole. It was a hotel room.

Dox was in a chair next to the bed, facing the door, his head slumped forward, the rifle set across his lap.

I pulled back the blanket and looked down at my thigh. It was heavily bandaged. Likewise for my wrist. The thigh and wrist hurt, and the ribs were worse, but none of it was terrible. My head felt fuzzy, though, and I realized someone had given me something for pain.

“Hey,” I said.

Dox’s eyes popped open and his head snapped up. “Well, all right,” he said, flashing me the grin. “It’s damn good to see you, man. You had me worried there for a while.”

“Where the fuck are we?”

“A little Motel 6 kind of place on Lantau Island. I didn’t want anyone bothering us while you were recuperating.”

“Who bandaged me?”

“Your uncle Kanezaki made a few phone calls and took care of everything. Got a local doctor out here pronto. He sewed you up, but you’d lost a lot of blood. Luckily I was on hand to lend you a quart or so. So don’t be surprised if your dick’s grown to about twice as big as you remember.”

I laughed weakly. “Am I going to start looking at sheep differently, too?”

He grinned again. “You should only be so lucky. But one way or the other, take comfort from the fact that you’ve got a quart of Dox sloshing around inside you. There’s people who’d pay good money for the privilege, and here it’s yours for free.”

I nodded, taking it all in. “Thank you,” I said, looking at him.

He shook his head. “Forget about it. Like I told you, you were good to me in ’Stan. I don’t forget.”

“Well, I reckon we’re even, then,” I said.

His eyebrows shot north. “Did he say ‘reckon’? My God, son, it’s working already!”

WE CALLED KANEZAKI the next day, after we had changed hotels. We put him on the speakerphone on Dox’s cell phone.

“I was always afraid the two of you were going to join forces,” he said.

Dox grinned. “Well, someone’s gotta save western civilization from the forces of darkness,” he said.

“You’re closer to the truth there than you know,” Kanezaki replied.

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

“I can’t go into it now. But it’ll all be in the news tomorrow. We’ll talk after that.”

“The two hundred thousand?” I asked.

“The balance has already been transferred. Congratulations.”

That was good. In our haste to depart, Dox and I had left behind the binoculars and parabolic microphone, and I had been mildly concerned that Kanezaki might argue that this evidence made things look too well planned to be attributable to the kind of straightforward inside job we’d discussed. Apparently there wasn’t a problem. I was looking forward to finding out why.

“Speaking of the two hundred thousand,” Dox said, “you’ve been shortchanging me, son. My price just went up.”

“See, this is what I was afraid of,” Kanezaki said. “A damn union.”

We all laughed. Kanezaki asked, “How’d that doctor work out?” Reminding me of how he’d come through when I needed him.

“Well, he gave me a quart of Dox’s blood,” I said. “That ought to be grounds for malpractice.”

“Crimson Viagra!” Dox crowed, and we all laughed again.

“Check the papers,” Kanezaki said. “You’ll see what you’ve done. You should be damn proud, no shit.”

IT WAS ON CNN that night. A joint Hong Kong police/ CIA operation had stopped a transfer of radiologically tipped missiles at Kwai Chung port container facility. Several Arab terrorists involved had been killed in a shootout. A CIA officer, whose identity could not be revealed, was wounded in the operation. All missiles were recovered. No one mentioned anything about a duffel bag with five million U.S. in it.