MemoRandom: A Thriller by Anders de La Motte Page A

their first job together Sasha had cut off a man’s fingers with a pair of garden shears. He carried on until only the forefingers were left, even though the man had long since crumbled and told them what they wanted to know. Violence was one thing, but Sasha was a full-blown sadist, and eventually Atif had asked not to work with him any longer. Evidently this information had found its way back to Sasha, and as thanks he had held a gun to Atif’s head in the middle of a nightclub. He had told him that the next time they met he was going to pull the trigger, no matter how many witnesses there might be. Shortly after that Atif’s mother had fallen ill. And once Atif accompanied her back to Iraq, the matter had seemed irrelevant. But to judge by the conversation in there, and the looks the bikers and Russians had exchanged out in the parking lot, Atif wasn’t the only one who had a problem with Sasha. His presence at the meeting, his suit, and the expensive car clearly suggested that he had risen through the ranks. And was now someone to be reckoned with.
    Two different biker gangs, some Eastern Europeans, AbuHamsa, and Sasha. The discussion he had overheard had been a top-level meeting. The gangster version of Who’s Who.
    The last man didn’t emerge until after Sasha had left. About thirty-five, suit, overcoat, short, dark hair, and a wary look in his eyes. It was impossible to see more from a distance. The man moved smoothly and exuded more genuine self-confidence than the others, more control. He was also considerably calmer than the men who had come out before him. Considerably less nervous.
    In all likelihood, this was the consultant Abu Hamsa had talked about. Although the man actually looked as if he was in the military. Or the police.
    The consultant stopped outside the back door for a moment and put on a pair of aviator sunglasses. Then he walked slowly toward a dark Range Rover as he let his eyes roam across the surroundings. The man stopped beside his car and for a few moments Atif was sure he was staring straight at him. But then the gym door opened again and Dino, or whatever the lunk was called, came out. He said something that made the consultant turn around and waved his short arms excitedly in a way that looked almost comical. The consultant said something in reply, then the two men hurried back inside the building.
    Atif wondered about the security cameras in the gym, and how easy it was to rewind the recording just a matter of minutes. A couple of mouse clicks and he’d be there on the screen.
    He turned the key in the ignition and put the car in gear. Just fewer than three hours before his plane took off.

TEN
    When Sarac woke up he noticed two things immediately. First: it was pitch black. Not even a tiny light on a monitor, nothing to focus on. So he wasn’t in his usual room. Second: there was someone else there in the darkness. He could sense movement of some sort, and then someone taking a deep breath.
    “Can you hear me, Sarac?” a low male voice asked.
    He turned his head toward it as he searched his memory for something to match to the hoarse voice. A name, a place, anything at all. But he couldn’t find anything.
    “You’re not an easy person to get a little chat with, Sarac. There are lots of people keeping an eye on you. A lot of people worried about what you might reveal.”
    Sarac tried to raise himself to a sitting position, but got tangled in the tubes sticking out of his body.
    “You know who I am, don’t you?” the man said.
    “N-no . . .” Sarac said. But that wasn’t entirely true. They had met, he was almost certain of that. He just couldn’t remember where and when. His eyes were gradually getting used to the darkness, and the man began to appear as a dark shadow just ten feet away away from him.
    “We had an agreement, you and me, remember?” the man said.
    Sarac shook his head, once again without really managing to convince himself. Was this all a dream, a