Nasir Abbas hurried after the tall Englishman, his robe hitched up so he could move his feet with ease and keep pace with the man’s long strides.
He muttered under his breath, a steady stream of Arabic that cursed Dan and his good luck. He’d been warned the man was a highly trained operative, but he’d seen nothing in the past two weeks he’d been observing him that suggested anything other than a typical Englishman on holiday.
The man drank beer, hung out with his neighbours in the harbour, and without fail walked to the same café and convenience store every day.
He’d lost track of the Englishman in France several months ago, the man’s boat disappearing from its moorings under cover of darkness, and it had taken several weeks of hard work and extortionate bribes to relocate him.
How he’d escaped the explosion on the boat was unprecedented.
Abbas clenched his fist as he paused several paces behind the man at a busy intersection and feigned interest in a display of kitchenware at one of the shop fronts lining the street.
He glanced over his shoulder, in time to see Dan jog across the road.
He cursed, waved away the shopkeeper that approached, mumbled something about running late, and dashed after his quarry.
He slowed as he crossed the street, taking his time, aware of the need to keep the drivers of the passing vehicles happy so they didn’t sound their horns at him and draw unwanted attention.
Abbas reached the other side and stayed in the shadows, his eyes never leaving Dan’s back as he turned right and into a busy marketplace.
He was easy to track, being much taller than any of the locals and most of the tourists that flocked around the stalls. It was just as well – the narrow pedestrianised street was packed with people bartering over fruit and vegetables, or browsing through the souvenirs that covered blankets and rugs laid out on the floor.
The town’s streets criss-crossed each other in a style reminiscent of European urban planning, yet it was still possible to become disorientated within the labyrinth of buildings.
When he’d first arrived, Abbas had relied on the wider thoroughfares to get his bearings; if he found himself lost, he simply walked until he reached one of the wider, busier streets, then set off once more.
His planning had paid off; now, he walked the streets as confidently as a local.
He jumped at a loud call to his left as an elderly merchant pulling a handcart laden with fruit bellowed at pedestrians to let him through the throng, before a goat scampered past, a young boy yelling at it as he pushed past Abbas and disappeared from view.
Up ahead, the Englishman had stopped at one of the stalls as if to get his bearings and then darted off towards the left.
Abbas hurried to catch up, in time to see the man disappear up a narrow side street.
He hung back, seeing that the road was too narrow, with doorways opening right into the thoroughfare, and nowhere to hide if the man turned – Abbas would be too exposed.
Instead, he waited impatiently while Dan strolled unhurriedly along the street as if relishing the shade while he could. At the end of the street, a flight of stairs led up to the next street where traffic flashed past, and here he turned right.
Abbas ran as fast as he could, his sandals kicking up dust as he manoeuvred his significant bulk along the street and towards the steps. Halfway up, his heart pounding, his breathing ragged, he wondered at the irony if he should drop dead from a heart attack whilst in pursuit.
He reached the top of the steps and staggered to a halt, searching the crowded path for the Englishman. His breath escaped his lips in loud pants, and he glared at a woman who stared at him as she passed.
She quickly lowered her eyes, readjusted her headscarf around her face, and hurried away.
Abbas swallowed. If he’d lost the Englishman now, there would be little mercy from his superiors.
He almost cried out with relief as he spotted the tall man halfway down the street, his pace unwavering despite the steep climb up the steps.
Abbas pushed people out of the way as he strived to catch up, then slowed his pace once more when he was satisfied he had enough space between him and his target.
It had taken several weeks to track him down, with Abbas’s superiors almost admitting defeat once the man had left England. However, they’d managed to find him, almost by accident, and Abbas had received a phone call early one evening that had galvanised him into action. He’d never doubted the hatred that his superior held for Dan Taylor, and his loyalty meant he would do everything possible to secure justice for the man he looked up to.
He frowned as the Englishman turned right and walked out in front of the traffic, trusting that the vehicles would make way for him. The man’s whole body language screamed confidence, and he appeared angry.
Abbas smiled. The loss of the boat had evidently soured the man’s mood, at least.
Dan slowed, checked his watch, and began to walk up the steps that led into the building that took up the whole side of the block.
Abbas moved into the shadow of an awning outside a café and pulled a mobile phone from his robe. He scowled at a teenager that passed him, the youngster dressed in Western clothing complete with a fake American university-emblazoned t-shirt, and hit the speed dial.
His call was answered within three rings.
He didn’t bother with introductions. It wouldn’t be appreciated by his superior at the other end of the line.
‘He wasn’t on the boat when the explosives detonated.’
‘What went wrong?’
‘He received a phone call as he entered the harbour area. It delayed his arrival back at the vessel.’
‘That is unfortunate.’ A pause. ‘Did anyone see you?’
‘No.’
‘Where are you now?’
‘Outside the Argan Hotel. He left the harbour and just arrived here.’
‘Checking in?’
‘Hard to tell. Wasn’t carrying anything, but then everything he owned was on that boat.’
‘Monitor the situation. Follow him if he leaves, and report back. Kill him if the opportunity arises. Our plans proceed regardless, but it would be better if Mr Taylor wasn’t around to try to stop us.’
‘I understand.’
Abbas ended the call and tucked the phone away. He checked his surroundings to make sure his conversation hadn’t been overheard, and then wandered along to a café under the awning, ordered a coffee, and settled at one of the tables, his eyes focused on the doors to the hotel.
He was prepared for a long wait.