The storm left little more than a sprinkle as it skirted the city and headed for the suburbs. The humidity had increased and Jay felt even more uncomfortable in his suit. Pat's directions led to a convenience store two streets from Central train station. Sarah busied herself reading a bus timetable tucked behind a plastic graffiti-covered frame just down from the convenience store entrance.
As per the instructions, Jay walked in and browsed the small selection of music CDs. He noted the balding man with Coke-bottle glasses behind the counter reading a Woman's Day. Business was slow. Despite the air-conditioning, beads of sweat stuck to the man's forehead. The comb-over hairstyle gave Jay an idea of his age. Rolls of body fat hanging over the counter indicated a heart attack waiting to happen. A shirt one size too small allowed a hairy stomach to prop on the counter, no doubt leaving a greasy sweat stain. The thought made Jay cringe. He wondered what lame excuses this one had for being too lazy to keep in shape.
Jay selected a James Blunt CD and moseyed to the counter. 'Do you have any soft metal, mate?'
The man licked an oversized finger and flicked a page. He didn't look up. 'Whatever is over there is what I got.' When Jay didn't move away, the fat man placed the magazine aside, wheezed in a deep breath and looked up.
Jay caught his breath. His nose filled with the unpleasant vapours of a person with a serious hygiene problem. It reminded him of the interrogation rooms after a week-long exercise. He continued with the charade. 'Can you order some in for me? I was told that this is the place to get it.'
'Who told you that?'
'Friend of mine: Ray.'
The man lifted his stomach from the counter by bending back on his stool. He pivoted and pushed up off his perch. He came around the counter, hobbled past Jay and locked the front door. He returned to the counter and picked up the local paper. Even the short waddle to the door increased his wheezing. 'You're lucky they put an old picture on the front page.' He turned the paper toward Jay.
Jay fixed on the picture of himself in dress uniform with the Australian flag draped in the background. His heart skipped a beat. The headline read: 'Hero Turns Villain'.
'Don't believe everything you read in the papers,' he said.
'Not for me to judge. You mustn't be all that bad if the Director sent you. What do you want?'
It had been decided they should stick with weapons they were comfortable with. No point trying out something new. 'Two pistols. Browning and a Glock. One hundred rounds each.'
'That's it?'
'Expecting a bigger order?'
'Suits me. Three hours.'
'That long?'
'You think I keep a collection under the counter?'
Jay ignored the comment. Not much he could do about the timeframe. 'How much?'
'Two K.'
'You're kidding, right?'
'You've got a neon sign flashing over your head that says "I'm wanted". I'm sticking my neck out as it is.'
'I could use a couple of silencers.'
'Two days and an extra K.'
Funny how the price rises when you're a fugitive, Jay mused. It would have to do. The silencers would be handy but they could probably do without them. 'Where's the pick up?'
'I'll meet you at the Rendezvous Hotel in three hours. Have two-and-a-half K in a nice little gift bag. I'll take the other five hundred if you last long enough to pick up the silencers.'
Jay nodded. He hoped the man lasted long enough to deliver the weapons. They were probably under the counter. It would take the fat man three hours to walk one hundred metres up the road to the hotel. He picked up the James Blunt CD and walked towards the door.
'Hey, you gotta pay for that!'
Not with the price you're charging me for the weapons, he thought. 'Put it on my tab.'
Sarah fell in beside him as he walked past the bus stop. They crossed the street and headed for the mall in the centre of the city. Being early evening, youths in jet-black clothing with nose-rings mixed with office workers catching a quiet drink before heading home. Groups of teens with gelled hair slipped in and out of bars for their cigarette fixes. A jazz band at one end of the mall attracted shoppers while buskers at the other end drew a crowd of zoned-out twenty-somethings. A normal Brisbane evening.
They found a tucked-away café, ordered two lattes and sat in the back corner.
'What now?' Sarah asked.
'We need to get a thousand dollars per card out of a teller machine for the pistols. The meet is at nine o'clock at the Rendezvous Hotel.'
'Where's that?'
'Across the road from Central station and the Sofitel. I'm figuring we should get a couple of rooms there for the night.'
'We should be hitting the road. The contract commences at midnight.'
'Exactly. You said it yourself. I'm not running. I want to flush the first hitman out and buy us some more time for tomorrow.'
She frowned. 'That's a big call.'
'It's make or break from here on in. And we probably shouldn't be prancing around the city like this, being fugitives and all.'
Their coffees arrived and they drank them in silence, both with an eye on the door. Jay wondered what Sarah was thinking. Wondered why she hadn't left and what Uncle Pat had said to her. Then he wondered again what exactly they were up against. He was distracted by the coffee machine spurting out shots of steam. Both coffees drained, they got up and Jay paid the bill.
They stopped off on their way to the hotel to get the money and a gift bag. At the hotel, they used one of the credit cards to book adjoining rooms with views across to Central station and the side entrance to the Sofitel Hotel. The rooms provided an ideal vantage point to note entrances that a hitman might cover for surveillance. Jay figured there would be no need to cover the main entrance of the hotel. He couldn't imagine a hitman using the front door.
Sarah joined Jay in his room after she had thrown her belongings into hers. She set up her laptop on the small table beside the bed and sat on the two-seater lounge. Jay made himself comfortable on the bed and searched the television news channels.
'We ordering room service?' she asked.
'I figure we should eat up here. Come nine o'clock, I'll go down for the pickup.'
'OK. Over dinner we'll go over escape routes and actions.'
'Good idea. Have you got anything back from those requests for information you put in?'
'No. I've been frozen out.'
'Pardon?'
'I tried my access and they've had it removed. I've checked my phone too and it's been wiped. Call records, messages, contact lists, all gone.'
'How the hell can that happen?'
'I do – did – belong to a secret intelligence agency. They can do such things quite easily.'
Jay thought about his question. He'd been focused on planning for a confrontation of a different kind. 'Sorry, stupid comment.'
'What's on your mind?' she asked.
He appreciated her asking and realised that without Sarah, outcomes might have been very different. She had already proved a valuable ally. 'You know how it is when you send a report, and then instantly regret it?'
'Kind of.'
'I mean, the information I got from the Iraqi was pure gold. I actually thought it could stop the ground invasion of Iraq. But then I thought that it might just re-focus hostilities elsewhere. Shit, at that stage I didn't know what I was thinking. It came down to me doing my job and letting those responsible make the right decisions. Did they? I still don't know. All I know is that somehow since then I've been waiting for it to blow up in my face.'
'Is that the reason you never changed jobs? Came across to the Agency?'
'Yeah. I suppose I didn't want to carry the baggage around any further. Besides, I can only do operational. I look at your job, somewhere between strategic and operational. Just not for me. Then there would be the living-in-my-dad's-shadow type of thing. As far as I can tell, he was the best. Would you guys have expected that of me?'
'As far as I can tell, you're better. I have never heard anyone speak of you in anything less than glowing terms.'
'You haven't met the Primroses yet.'
'Serious, Jay. When you interrogated me that day I was ready to give it up and walk away from the job. I was embarrassed, confused and feeling downright silly. You got me good. But then I sat down and played back exactly what had happened. I recalled every word and every move you made. I dissected it and analysed it. I researched and read everything I could find on interrogation techniques. I spent six months mulling over that single interrogation. And you know what? I concluded that it was near perfect. You showed me the best interrogation someone could experience. Just so happens that I was the subject, but I could learn from it. So from there I set myself a challenge – to be as good as Jay Ryan. I've got a long way to go, but I was hoping you could teach me a few more things before we get executed.'
Jay smiled. 'You're keeping me on track, you know? I've gotta stop feeling sorry for myself and start fighting back. I'm glad you stuck around, Sarah.'
'So am I.'
Their eyes met. The electricity between them could have powered a small city. Sarah got up from the lounge and joined him on the bed. She took his hand and bent forward to kiss him.
Jay pulled away.
Sarah frowned. 'What's wrong?'
'Are sure you want this? I mean, I haven't got the best track record.'
She put her finger to her lips for his silence. Then she lifted his chin and brought his lips to hers.