With dread, Connor slowly turned to confront the assassin ‘I could’ve guessed an insect like you would be crawling around here,’ he said, trying hard to suppress the tremble in his own voice.
Mr Grey stared at him, his expression absent of all emotion. ‘That’s no way to greet an old friend.’
‘I didn’t think you had any friends.’
Connor was struggling to maintain his composure. Being in such close proximity to the ruthless assassin made his skin crawl, as if a dozen centipedes now scurried across his body. Cold-blooded as the lizard in the cage, Mr Grey struck a baleful figure as he emerged from the shadows of the market stall. While of average height and build with a plain lean face, the assassin’s pallid complexion and dead-eyed look gave the impression of a walking corpse – the Grim Reaper in human form. And by all accounts he should be dead.
‘I shot you,’ said Connor defiantly.
‘I haven’t forgotten,’ Mr Grey replied, drawing uncomfortably close, to the point where Connor could smell the assassin’s nicotine breath. He fixed Connor with his slate-grey eyes.
Despite the mesmerizing horror of it, Connor held the man’s gaze. ‘You were at the airport, weren’t you?’
A twitch of a smile passed across the assassin’s thin bloodless lips. ‘They don’t allow minors in the first-class lounge. More’s the pity – we could have had our chat there and then.’
‘What do you want?’ said Connor, though he knew there could be only one thing the assassin wanted – revenge.
Extending a pale hand towards him, making Connor flinch, Mr Grey reached beyond him and picked up one of the wicker cages from the stall.
‘According to Chinese folklore, crickets bring good luck,’ he said, tipping the chirping insect into the palm of his hand. ‘They can also be highly valuable. Some prized crickets sell for over a thousand dollars.’ He prodded the bug’s antennae, goading it to attack with its mandibles and forelegs. ‘You see, cricket fighting is a lucrative pastime in China. Fortunes are bet on the outcome of matches. Are you a gambling man, Connor?’
Connor shook his head.
Mr Grey raised an eyebrow. ‘You surprise me, considering you gamble with your life every day.’
Connor shifted on his feet, preparing to fight or flee the assassin.
But Mr Grey continued to inspect and torment the specimen. ‘The best crickets, I hear, are bred in the Shangdong province. Fierce, tough and unyielding, they’re born with an indomitable spirit to survive.’ He glanced up to ensure he had Connor’s full attention. ‘Much like you. You refuse to die easily or without a fight. But I’m afraid your luck is fast running out.’
With brutal indifference, Mr Grey crushed the cricket in his hand, the insect’s hardened body crunching into little shards. The assassin dusted his hands of the dead creature. Connor tensed, every muscle in his body ready to battle for his life. But the assassin didn’t make any move to kill him. Instead he asked, ‘Where’s Colonel Black?’
Connor was thrown by the unexpected question. ‘I … don’t know.’
Mr Grey sighed irritably. ‘That’s a shame. For you, at least. Because, unless you know where the colonel is, you and your friend, throwing up in the toilet, are expendable. So I’ll ask you again: where’s Colonel Black?’
‘What do you want with the colonel?’ demanded Connor, baffled as well as playing for time – if Amir joined him, they might have a chance to overcome the assassin. Then a horrifying realization hit him. ‘It was you who attacked HQ, wasn’t it? Did you abduct my friends too? Were you –’
Mr Grey tutted and wagged a finger. ‘Remember what I once said to you? Curiosity killed the cat.’
‘Just answer me!’ Connor snapped. ‘Is this your idea of revenge? All because I shot you in Russia!’
Mr Grey snorted. ‘Don’t flatter yourself! This goes way beyond our little disagreement. Although it’s true to say you are the catalyst for Buddyguard’s destruction. Your intervention in Russia ruffled a few feathers and the people I represent have decided to shut your organization down. Permanently.’
Connor frowned. Viktor Malkov was dead. So it couldn’t be his organization. Then a missing piece of the puzzle clicked into place. ‘Are you talking about … Equilibrium?’
‘Your knowledge of its existence is the very reason Buddyguard has been targeted. You really shouldn’t have told Colonel Black. Now, where is he?’
A spark of hope ignited in Connor’s heart. If Equilibrium didn’t have the colonel, then their situation wasn’t as desperate as it appeared. They still had an advantage to play. ‘No,’ said Connor, squaring up to the assassin. ‘You tell me where my friends are first.’
Mr Grey tapped a bony finger on the side of a glass tank housing a long brown snake, trying to rouse the creature, as if bored by Connor’s defiance. ‘Contained,’ he eventually replied.
‘What do you mean contained?’
The assassin shrugged. ‘They’re still alive, if that’s what you’re worried about. For the time being. And, unless you want that time to dramatically shorten, tell me where Colonel Black is.’
Connor’s jaw tightened. Through clenched teeth, he said, ‘You’ll never find him.’
Mr Grey narrowed his eyes. ‘Well, if you don’t know where he is, I’ll just have to ask Charley.’
The mere mention of Charley’s name from the assassin’s lips sent a surge of rage through Connor. He felt his stomach knot into an iron ball, his fists clench and his neck muscles stiffen. ‘You leave her alone!’
Mr Grey smiled, or what at least passed for a smile formed on his lips. ‘Touched a nerve, have I?’
Struggling to control his fury, Connor was determined to keep the assassin away from Charley at all costs. ‘I’ll find the colonel,’ he vowed. ‘Just leave her out of this.’
‘That’s the spirit I was talking about. Call this number when you do.’ He handed Connor a business card with a single line of digits. ‘By the way, don’t even think about going to the British Embassy or the Chinese authorities. Report this to anyone and I’ll be paying Charley a personal visit.’
Connor couldn’t contain himself any longer. He went for the assassin. But a lightning-fast spear-hand to the base of his throat choked off his air supply and he was stopped dead in his tracks. Spluttering for breath, he collapsed to his knees, all the fight taken out of him in one single strike.
‘Don’t test my patience, Connor,’ said the assassin, walking over to a plastic cage full of mice. Opening the lid, he pulled one out by its tail. ‘Rest assured, when this Equilibrium business is concluded, we’ll settle our score, once and for all. Until then –’ he dangled the squirming mouse over the glass tank containing the brown snake – ‘you have a stay of execution.’
The assassin dropped the mouse into the tank where it scampered over to the corner and frantically tried to claw its way out. The snake stirred and uncoiled itself.
‘But remember, in the end, the snake always gets the mouse.’
Connor watched as the snake slowly and deliberately glided towards its prey. The mouse fled for the opposite corner. But the snake struck. Its fangs clamped into the little animal before winding its scaly body round the mouse and constricting it to death. Connor, still struggling for breath himself, felt sickened as the snake started to swallow the mouse whole.
When he managed to tear his eyes away from the gruesome scene, Mr Grey had gone.