Читать книгу The Isle of Olympia - Andreas Karpasitis - Страница 7

Outside the hotel, Murphy leaned his head slightly down and checked out the heavy rain through the car’s window.

“Here we go.” He took a deep breath and quickly shoved himself from the back seat, fixing his jacket with the hope of blocking some of the droplets; envelopes under his right shoulder, and briefcase in his left hand.

He was prepared to dive headfirst into the psychotic world of an old friend, or more like an acquaintance; at the same time he was trying to convince himself to change his mind. One hour and I will head back home. Murphy kept repeating this. Even though something felt off, he tried to be positive. It had been a while since the last time he had a hunch similar to this. The meeting felt wrong, and he did not like it.

Even though this was usually a busy intersection, the roads were mostly empty due to the rain pouring down and the wind causing havoc. A terrifying and dangerous time for people to be moving around as the city of New York issued a two-day warning. Three people had already died from flying debris or flooding waters. The ominous sirens of fire trucks and ambulances occasionally penetrate the heavy sound of the rain.

Murphy looked around at a somewhat quieter city than usual, an unfamiliar point of view for him as he was used to the hectic, noisy side of the metropolis back in the time when he was based in New York. He had spent an important part of his life in this chaotic city. Murphy took in the familiar smell, bringing with it a memory of one of his most wild, all gone wrong, missions. It was one of his most delicate and complex ones. It was three months of sleepless nights, which turned to be the longest three months of his life culminating in becoming close to exhaling his last breath in a dark alley. He brushed his palm across his shoulder; the scar tissue from the bullet wound was still a reminder of that night. Even though he almost died, deep inside, he was happy that it also meant the end of one of his most exhausting and prolonged missions.

A water drop wormed its way down the collar of Murphy’s coat, breaking him out of his thoughts. He dashed towards the entrance of the hotel before suddenly stopping; something just didn’t seem right. He looked back and saw that there was a car parked on the other side of the road, a few yards back, that seemed entirely out of place. A black sedan, all windows darkened, the engine and headlights turned off, but the windshield wipers were still on, wiping away the heavy rain.

Murphy paused for a few seconds and, as a diversion, checked his pockets for something he could not find. He quickly changed his direction and went back to Ethan, who was slowly pulling the car away from the entrance. He quickly tapped his hand on the car’s roof. Ethan promptly hit the brakes and pulled his window down.

“What’s wrong, Murphy?” Ethan asked, surprised.

“Be extra careful,” Murphy advised Ethan in a low voice. Ethan glanced in the rear-view mirror. The car parked in the background, almost hidden between the dark spots of the streetlights.

“Pass me your lighter,” Murphy said as he extended his arm.

“But you don’t smoke—”

“Just pass me your lighter Ethan, you can get a new one.”

Ethan slowly but surely connected the dots and quickly handed over his lighter. “Meet you around back.”

Murphy nodded and tapped the roof of the car before walking towards the hotel’s entrance. The sliding doors swiftly closed behind him as he entered the hotel.

Outside, the only sign of life was Ethan slowly pulling away from the pavement. The mysterious black sedan followed suit, headlights dimmed, moving at a slow pace. Murphy watched from behind an indoor plant. Something was wrong.