really had. It was something he was good at and something he kept doing because he enjoyed it. There were a lot of assholes in this world and he liked putting them out of business.
His self-reflection was thankfully broken as Nadeesha walked through the door. With her hair and makeup done up she could have graced the cover of any magazine she chose. Whoever this Arab financier was, he didn't stand a chance. She'd probably murder him and then Deckard in their sleep before the night was over.
Nadeesha slid onto a stool at the bar with her back to him. She ordered a drink and shot down two men before it even arrived. They were fat Arabs, but not the right fat Arab.
Ten minutes later, he showed up. The Arab financier had the physique of a hippopotamus and a head shaped like a perfect egg. He wore a blue trainer outfit and tennis shoes. He clearly didn't do much training, but this was the fashion in some parts of the world. Deckard pegged him as Lebanese. Probably Hezbollah.
As the bartender brought him a Martini, Nadeesha slid off her seat and approached him.
That was when a British expat decided to introduce herself to Deckard.
“Hi, I'm Audrey.”
Deckard reached out and shook her hand, smiling back at her.
“Jon,” he said, using the alias name on his passport. “Would you like to have a seat?”
“I thought I might trouble you for a light, but yes I would.” She sat down across from him.
Deckard didn't mind, he kind of stood out sitting by himself.
They made small talk while he occasionally eyeballed Nadeesha and her prey. Audrey was in Dubai to spend a semester teaching English in a girls school. Technically she was doing her fellowship for her PhD back in the UK, but she needed to pick up some scratch in the meantime. Deckard offered vague details about himself, gave his cover without mentioning that he was “married” to the woman across the bar for obvious reasons.
Twenty minutes later found Nadeesha and the target walking out, arm in arm. Deckard sincerely hoped that this was a wham, bam, thank you ma'am type deal because he didn't want to chase the would-be lovebirds all over town. No need to wine and dine.
“Be right back love, have to find the rest room.”
“Oh, see you soon!” Audrey said.
Yeah, right.
Deckard was relieved when he saw the couple heading for the elevators. He watched the digital readout above the elevator tick up and stop at the 21st floor. She was keeping this easy by making sure she took him to their room. He had the key card so if it got ugly he would be inside the room in seconds.
Jumping in the second elevator he hit the button for the 21st floor. The doors opened and Deckard stepped into the hall just in time to hear the door to their room slam shut. He hung out by a vending machine, pretending to try to jam a bill in it whenever someone walked by. He kept his keycard under the Dirham bill. He kept the ruse up for ten minutes, alternating between pretending to look at his cell phone and playing with the vending machine.
Then the cell phone vibrated. Deckard looked at the screen which displayed a single word
Red .
In a half-dozen long strides, he was at the door and shoving the key card in the reader. The LED on the door flashed green and Deckard flung the door open.
The Arab was stripped naked and had Nadeesha pinned against the wall, holding her by the neck. The woman's brown arms and legs struggled against his weight as he pressed her into the wall. Deckard used the edge of his shoe in a downward strike that nearly separated the Arab's calf muscle.
Nadeesha fell to the ground. She wore only a black thong, apparently well into the game of seducing the Arab.
Deckard didn't notice as he fixated on his target, knocking him to the ground. With both hands, the American commando reached for his inner wrists and seized the knives by their handles. Tearing both free from their sheaths, he held the steak knives in a reverse grip. The Arab struggled to his feet, favoring
His self-reflection was thankfully broken as Nadeesha walked through the door. With her hair and makeup done up she could have graced the cover of any magazine she chose. Whoever this Arab financier was, he didn't stand a chance. She'd probably murder him and then Deckard in their sleep before the night was over.
Nadeesha slid onto a stool at the bar with her back to him. She ordered a drink and shot down two men before it even arrived. They were fat Arabs, but not the right fat Arab.
Ten minutes later, he showed up. The Arab financier had the physique of a hippopotamus and a head shaped like a perfect egg. He wore a blue trainer outfit and tennis shoes. He clearly didn't do much training, but this was the fashion in some parts of the world. Deckard pegged him as Lebanese. Probably Hezbollah.
As the bartender brought him a Martini, Nadeesha slid off her seat and approached him.
That was when a British expat decided to introduce herself to Deckard.
“Hi, I'm Audrey.”
Deckard reached out and shook her hand, smiling back at her.
“Jon,” he said, using the alias name on his passport. “Would you like to have a seat?”
“I thought I might trouble you for a light, but yes I would.” She sat down across from him.
Deckard didn't mind, he kind of stood out sitting by himself.
They made small talk while he occasionally eyeballed Nadeesha and her prey. Audrey was in Dubai to spend a semester teaching English in a girls school. Technically she was doing her fellowship for her PhD back in the UK, but she needed to pick up some scratch in the meantime. Deckard offered vague details about himself, gave his cover without mentioning that he was “married” to the woman across the bar for obvious reasons.
Twenty minutes later found Nadeesha and the target walking out, arm in arm. Deckard sincerely hoped that this was a wham, bam, thank you ma'am type deal because he didn't want to chase the would-be lovebirds all over town. No need to wine and dine.
“Be right back love, have to find the rest room.”
“Oh, see you soon!” Audrey said.
Yeah, right.
Deckard was relieved when he saw the couple heading for the elevators. He watched the digital readout above the elevator tick up and stop at the 21st floor. She was keeping this easy by making sure she took him to their room. He had the key card so if it got ugly he would be inside the room in seconds.
Jumping in the second elevator he hit the button for the 21st floor. The doors opened and Deckard stepped into the hall just in time to hear the door to their room slam shut. He hung out by a vending machine, pretending to try to jam a bill in it whenever someone walked by. He kept his keycard under the Dirham bill. He kept the ruse up for ten minutes, alternating between pretending to look at his cell phone and playing with the vending machine.
Then the cell phone vibrated. Deckard looked at the screen which displayed a single word
Red .
In a half-dozen long strides, he was at the door and shoving the key card in the reader. The LED on the door flashed green and Deckard flung the door open.
The Arab was stripped naked and had Nadeesha pinned against the wall, holding her by the neck. The woman's brown arms and legs struggled against his weight as he pressed her into the wall. Deckard used the edge of his shoe in a downward strike that nearly separated the Arab's calf muscle.
Nadeesha fell to the ground. She wore only a black thong, apparently well into the game of seducing the Arab.
Deckard didn't notice as he fixated on his target, knocking him to the ground. With both hands, the American commando reached for his inner wrists and seized the knives by their handles. Tearing both free from their sheaths, he held the steak knives in a reverse grip. The Arab struggled to his feet, favoring
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