Dominic Conlon - Silent Warpath

She looked around. The shop was typical of those in Kuala Gula: small, badly lit and crammed with carvings, basketry and crystal ornaments. Kelly walked over to the counter, picked up a small delicate brass bell and rang it. There was no response. Impatiently she ducked behind the counter to investigate the rear of the shop which was hidden from view by a set of ornate Chinese drapes.

The curtains twitched and a white round face emerged from the parting.

‘Oh God!’ her hands flew to her face.

The curtains opened slowly to reveal a rotund Chinese figure. His eyes darted towards the door and around the shop before taking her in.

Kelly backed away. ‘I’m really sorry, I thought there wasn’t anyone here.’ Her voice sounded nervous and she reprimanded herself for being taken by surprise.

The man’s demeanour changed unexpectedly, the face slowly creasing into an enormous smile.

‘Selamat tengahari.’ He stopped and bowed, hands together as if praying.

Kelly quickly recovered, shook his hand loosely and touched her heart. She smiled cautiously. ‘Mr Wei, I’m Kelly’.

Wei straightened up. ‘I must apologise for the sudden appearance. I hope I didn’t frighten you but I am expecting some ah.. unwelcome visitors. Shall we?’ Wei indicated a narrow wooden staircase and they began to climb. He led the way to an untidy kitchen cum dining room and gestured for Kelly to take a seat in an over-stuffed armchair covered with a bright green silky cloth.

‘Would you care to take some tea with me?’

Kelly bowed. ‘Ang Cho Teh.’

Wei had his back to her so she couldn’t see his facial reaction. But she did notice a fractional stiffening of the shoulders as Wei continued to add water to the pot. He placed it on a tray and brought it over to a nearby mahogany coffee table. Sitting opposite her, he folded his hands in his lap. ‘So you have been sent to me’ he said simply.

Kelly chose her next words carefully. ‘Mr Wei. I was told you might have something for me..’

She was interrupted by the sound of wind chimes from downstairs, quickly followed by a crash as if a shelf of brick-a-brac had fallen over. Wei’s expression changed instantly. He rose quickly and beckoned. Kelly followed him through to another room at the back which looked like a workshop. Sounds of the disturbance continued to come from below.

In the corner was another set of rickety wooden stairs. They creaked alarmingly as Wei led the way up to a dusty attic. The floor was covered with stuffed animals, cardboard boxes and packaging.

Without hesitation Wei pulled out a wooden crate and stood on it to reach the skylight above. Kelly heard a clatter on the stairs and knew they were only moments away from being discovered. She looked around for some kind of weapon. Flipping open one of the boxes she was frustrated to discover nothing more than a rosewood carving of an elephant. Wei pushed the window open and began to pull himself through as the attackers burst into the room.

As Kelly pushed the overweight Wei up through the skylight she felt a savage blow to the kidneys. The man pulled her away in his desperation to get to Wei. The pain hit and she sagged to the floor.

A million thoughts ran through her mind before she recollected her training. Sean’s voice directed her almost as if by her side. ‘Can’t escape? Then you must deal with the opposition.’ She had no gun — Sean was very particular about that — but Kelly needed a weapon this instant. She looked down at the carving she still clutched in her hand. It would have to do.

She crouched and then straightened in one movement, driving the wooden figure hard up between the man’s legs. The man twisted, howling in pain. The statuette flew out of her hand, spinning away.

She felt a renewed bout of pain and knew she did not have enough strength left to face the second man. He was already on her, knife in his raised hand. But her training kicked in and without thinking she stepped back only to fall over a packing case. As she fell she saw Sean appear in the doorway, but he was too far away to help. To gain time she rolled to one side as she hit the floor. She kept on rolling, finally coming face to face with the rosewood carving. Instinctively she grabbed the statuette. Even in the heat of the moment she noticed the tusks had snapped off.

She saw Sean appear behind the second man. She couldn’t see what he did but the man sank slowly to his knees. With a pure animal snarl Kelly rose and swung the rosewood carving round in a hard blow to his head. The man collapsed without a sound.

‘Steady’ warned Sean, grabbing her arm. ‘We don’t want to kill him’.

Kelly sat back, heart pounding and gasping for breath. Finally she breathed ‘you may not, but I do.’

Christopher Schaeffer thought the man behind the desk looked small, lost behind half an acre of Carpathian elm and a large monitor. The normally mild face was topped with a crown of grey hair and he looked as if he wouldn’t hurt a fly.

‘Is he dead?’

‘I think so.’ Schaeffer had prepared his script.

‘What do you mean — you think so?’

‘We hit him hard. He wasn’t wearing a helmet and the back of his skull was caved in.’

The man grunted. ‘Check the hospitals. If he’s been found you’ll need to send someone to make sure he’s dead.’ The bland face assumed a thoughtful expression. ‘Did he talk to anyone?’

Schaeffer shook his head. ‘We’re monitoring all the key people. He never got time.’

Over the four years he had worked for Dennis Clarke he had grown to hate and fear him. Initially he was taken in by the silver-haired man with the courteous manners and softly spoken cadences. At his interview Schaeffer was prepared to meet the head of one of the biggest defence contractors in the States. He expected the man would exude power and he was not disappointed. What he did not expect was the man would prove to be more ruthless, ambitious and greedy than himself.

‘Did you find anything at the flat?’

‘No — we checked all his papers’ replied Schaeffer.

‘Computers?’

‘We found a laptop and smashed it against the radiator. We also spray-painted the walls to make it look like some dope-heads got in.’

‘You should have taken the computer.’

‘It’s in hundreds of pieces’ Schaeffer pointed out.

‘Right — don’t forget you’re getting a new member of the team next week. I want you to show him around.’

‘Everything?’

‘Yes, everything. He needs to see the whole operation.’

‘The last guy…’. Schaeffer was interrupted by Clarke.

’…was planning to sell confidential company information to the media. We had to lose him.’

‘I read he was found on the shore near Kingsbury beach in Cape Cod bay. The paper said his body was so bloated and scarred that he could only be identified through his dental records.’

Clarke shrugged.

‘I’ll remind the new person of his obligations’ said Schaeffer.

‘Good. Is there anything else?’

‘No’ Schaeffer replied.

‘Then you’d better get on with it.’

‘Good afternoon sir. Please could you sign in the visitor’s book?’

The youth behind the desk was hardly out of school thought Lomax. He took the proffered pen, signed in, and waited patiently while the man prepared his pass.

‘I’ll let Mr Andrews know you have arrived. In the meantime would you like a tea or coffee?’

Lomax shook his head.

‘Very well sir. Perhaps you would like to take a seat while I let Mr Andrews know you are here?’

Lomax chose a chair that allowed him the best view of the reception area. He cast a disapproving eye over the gleaming décor before picking up a newspaper. Before he had time to turn to the second page the pimply youth was talking to him again.