surely dead."
Guido
shook his head. "I mean, what are we really doing here? This Jake Bentsen
thing is hardly serious. At least not serious enough for you to go charging
around the world, spending all that money...Your own money."
Creasy
lifted a hand and a waiter loomed up. Creasy gestured at the empty coffee pot
and the waiter took it away. Creasy continued to gaze at the street scene until
the waiter returned with a full pot. Creasy filled up both their cups and then
added two lumps of sugar to his own coffee. He stirred it for a long time, and
then said: "It's a strange thing, Guido. Up until a couple of years ago I
never took sugar in my coffee. I hated the taste of it. Then one night in a
restaurant in Gozo the waiter gave me the wrong cup. It had sugar in it. I
tasted it...and liked it."
"So?"
"So things change." He gestured. "Saigon has changed. People change.
Maybe I've changed."
Guido grinned at him. "You mean, you've become sweeter?"
Creasy did not smile. He said: "Maybe I do things for different reasons these
days. It's possible that I've become more curious. I'm here because I want to know
who's after me and why. I guess I got a little tired of sitting in the sun in
Gozo. It's why I was in Brussels in the first place. Subconsciously I was
looking for some action but the options didn't appeal very much. There was a
job in Bosnia. It paid well but I decided the hell with it. First of all, I
have a big enough stake to last the rest of my life, and second, I felt no
great desire to shoot up Serbs, Croatians or Muslims. I figure they ought to
let those savages work it out by themselves. They've been doing it for a couple
of thousand years. Then there were some Portuguese idiots who were trying to
hire a group to go down to Angola and help Savimbe have one last crack at the
government." He snorted in derision. "Angola, for Christ's sake! We
fought there twenty years ago. It seems like it was the last century." He
took a sip of his coffee and then added another lump of sugar and gave Guido a
rare smile. "So I'm really here out of curiosity...Why are you really
here, Guido?"
The Italian shrugged. "I guess I was bored. I got tired of serving the same
customers in the restaurant and watching the same football on TV and the same
corrupt politicians with innocent faces and fat pockets." He paused for a
moment, then looked up at Creasy and said: "Maybe I was a bit lonely. When
you told me you were coming out to Asia on a mission, I thought of the old
times. There were good and there were bad, but they weren't boring." He
leaned forward and almost imperceptibly jerked his head in the direction of the
follower. "So how do we take this pro tonight?"
Creasy also leaned forward. He said: "You ask him very politely to take a car
ride with you."
Guido grinned. "I'm always polite."
They both looked up and then stood as they saw Susanna approach across the street,
with Jens and The Owl in her wake. Creasy pulled out a chair for her. She sat
down with a sigh and fanned her face with her hand.
"The
heat gets to me," she said. "Will this place have an iced
drink?"
She was
wearing a lime-green, short-sleeved dress cut square across her chest. Fine
beads of perspiration glinted on her shoulders and arms. Creasy beckoned for a
waiter and ordered her a large, fresh orange juice on the rocks. The others
ordered beer. Creasy turned to the Dane and said: "Jens, perhaps you would
look after Susanna tonight. I need to borrow The Owl."
"It'll
be a pleasure," Jens replied. "What's happening?"
"We're
going to pick up the follower and ask him who he's working for. I know from
Dang Hoang Long that he's not working for the authorities. So whoever sent him
is almost certainly the person who lured us here in the first place. It's
better if you and Susanna eat in the hotel tonight and stay there until we
return."
"You
think he'll talk?" Susanna asked.
Creasy
glanced at Guido and then answered: "We shall persuade him to do
Guido
shook his head. "I mean, what are we really doing here? This Jake Bentsen
thing is hardly serious. At least not serious enough for you to go charging
around the world, spending all that money...Your own money."
Creasy
lifted a hand and a waiter loomed up. Creasy gestured at the empty coffee pot
and the waiter took it away. Creasy continued to gaze at the street scene until
the waiter returned with a full pot. Creasy filled up both their cups and then
added two lumps of sugar to his own coffee. He stirred it for a long time, and
then said: "It's a strange thing, Guido. Up until a couple of years ago I
never took sugar in my coffee. I hated the taste of it. Then one night in a
restaurant in Gozo the waiter gave me the wrong cup. It had sugar in it. I
tasted it...and liked it."
"So?"
"So things change." He gestured. "Saigon has changed. People change.
Maybe I've changed."
Guido grinned at him. "You mean, you've become sweeter?"
Creasy did not smile. He said: "Maybe I do things for different reasons these
days. It's possible that I've become more curious. I'm here because I want to know
who's after me and why. I guess I got a little tired of sitting in the sun in
Gozo. It's why I was in Brussels in the first place. Subconsciously I was
looking for some action but the options didn't appeal very much. There was a
job in Bosnia. It paid well but I decided the hell with it. First of all, I
have a big enough stake to last the rest of my life, and second, I felt no
great desire to shoot up Serbs, Croatians or Muslims. I figure they ought to
let those savages work it out by themselves. They've been doing it for a couple
of thousand years. Then there were some Portuguese idiots who were trying to
hire a group to go down to Angola and help Savimbe have one last crack at the
government." He snorted in derision. "Angola, for Christ's sake! We
fought there twenty years ago. It seems like it was the last century." He
took a sip of his coffee and then added another lump of sugar and gave Guido a
rare smile. "So I'm really here out of curiosity...Why are you really
here, Guido?"
The Italian shrugged. "I guess I was bored. I got tired of serving the same
customers in the restaurant and watching the same football on TV and the same
corrupt politicians with innocent faces and fat pockets." He paused for a
moment, then looked up at Creasy and said: "Maybe I was a bit lonely. When
you told me you were coming out to Asia on a mission, I thought of the old
times. There were good and there were bad, but they weren't boring." He
leaned forward and almost imperceptibly jerked his head in the direction of the
follower. "So how do we take this pro tonight?"
Creasy also leaned forward. He said: "You ask him very politely to take a car
ride with you."
Guido grinned. "I'm always polite."
They both looked up and then stood as they saw Susanna approach across the street,
with Jens and The Owl in her wake. Creasy pulled out a chair for her. She sat
down with a sigh and fanned her face with her hand.
"The
heat gets to me," she said. "Will this place have an iced
drink?"
She was
wearing a lime-green, short-sleeved dress cut square across her chest. Fine
beads of perspiration glinted on her shoulders and arms. Creasy beckoned for a
waiter and ordered her a large, fresh orange juice on the rocks. The others
ordered beer. Creasy turned to the Dane and said: "Jens, perhaps you would
look after Susanna tonight. I need to borrow The Owl."
"It'll
be a pleasure," Jens replied. "What's happening?"
"We're
going to pick up the follower and ask him who he's working for. I know from
Dang Hoang Long that he's not working for the authorities. So whoever sent him
is almost certainly the person who lured us here in the first place. It's
better if you and Susanna eat in the hotel tonight and stay there until we
return."
"You
think he'll talk?" Susanna asked.
Creasy
glanced at Guido and then answered: "We shall persuade him to do
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