Читать книгу Intersection With Nibiru - Danilo Clementoni - Страница 16

After the Senator had abruptly closed the conversation, the three of them had stayed there a bit longer, looking at the monitor in front of them, which was showing abstract, multicoloured drawings intertwining one with the other, in endless motion.

"What now?" asked the tall, thin guy, interrupting the sort of collective hypnosis.

"I’ve got an idea" replied the big guy. "It’s quite a while since we had a bite to eat and I can see hamburgers everywhere."

"And where do you think we’re going to find a hamburger now?"

"I have no idea but I do know that if I don’t eat something soon, I’ll pass out."

"Oh, poor thing, he’s going to faint," said the thin guy in a childlike voice. Then his tone changed "With all those rolls of fat you carry around on your hips you could spend a month without eating."

"Okay, stop it both of you with all this nonsense," exclaimed the General irritated. "We need to devise an action plan."

“But I can’t reason on an empty stomach,” said the fat guy softly.

"Oh, all right then," exclaimed Campbell raising his hands in defeat. “Let's go and get something to eat. We’ll come up with a plan later, after all we’ve got quite a bit of time before the Senator gets here."

«Now you’re talking, General,” exclaimed the big guy happily. "I know a little place that’s not at all bad where they make a fantastic mutton stew with potatoes, carrots, peas, flavoured with curry sauce."

"Well, I have to say that after that detailed description, I’m a little hungry too," said the thin guy rubbing his hands together quickly.

"All right, you've convinced me," said the General rising from his chair. "Let’s go, but let's try not to get caught. Even if I doubt they’ve found out yet, to all intents and purposes I’m a fugitive."

"And the two of us aren’t?" replied the thin guy. "We escaped from the camp and they’ll doubtless be looking everywhere for us. However, for the moment, who cares."

A few minutes later, a dark car carrying three shady characters sped into the night along the semi-deserted streets of the town, raising a fine cloud of dust as it passed.

"Here it is, that’s it," said the big guy who was sitting on the back seat. "It’s a bit late but I know the owner. There won't be any problems.”

The skinny guy, who was driving, looked for an out-of-sight place to park the car. He drove around the block then slipped it under the derelict roofing of an abandoned hut. He quickly got out of the car and warily observed all the surrounding area with great attention. There was nobody around.

He went around the car, opened the passenger door and said, “All quiet, General. We can go.”

The big guy also got out of the car and set off with quick steps towards the main entrance of the premises. He tried turning the handle, but without success. The door was closed but the light inside was still lit. Then he tried to peep through the glass, but the thick coloured curtain didn’t allow him to see much. Without wasting any more time, he began to knock vigorously and didn’t stop until he saw a little man, with black curly hair, peep out from behind the curtain.

"But who the heck ...," the little man had started to exclaim in an irritated voice, but when he recognised his portly friend, he stopped mid-sentence and opened the door.

“Oh, it’s you. What are you doing here at this time of night? And who are these men?”

“Hey, you thieving old fellow, how are you? These are my friends and all three of us are very hungry."

"But the restaurant is closed, I’ve already cleaned up in the kitchen and I was just about to leave."

"I think this other friend of mine will convince you better than me,” and he waved a hundred-dollar bill in front of his nose.

"Well, actually ... I have to admit that very well might" replied the little man, whipping the banknote out of the fat guy’s hands and making it disappear into his shirt pocket. "Please, come on in," he said throwing open the door and bowing slightly at the same time. After a brief look back, to check no one was watching them, one after the other, the three sidled into the small restaurant.

There were two rooms which didn’t really appear to be particularly well cared for. The floor was made of rough dark slabs. In the larger room three low round tables, each standing on a worn carpet with badly faded colours, were surrounded by cushions which were also a little tatty. However, in the other room the décor was more western in style, and it seemed much more "intimate". Large curtains in warm hues covered the walls. The lighting was soft and the setting was definitely much more welcoming. Two small tables had already been laid, ready for the next day's customers. Each with a dark green tablecloth with multi-coloured embroidery, matching napkins in the same colour, light silver edged china underplates, forks to the left, knives and spoons to the right and, in the centre, a long dark yellow candle in a small black stone candle holder.

“Can we go in there?” asked the big guy pointing towards the smaller room with his enormous right hand.

Without answering, the little curly haired man dived into the smaller room, pushed the two tables together and arranged the chairs then, with a deep bow and theatrical sweeping gesture of his arms, said “Please, take a seat gentlemen, you’ll be more comfortable in here.”

The three seated themselves at the table and the big guy said, “Make us your special dish and meanwhile bring us three beers.” Then without giving him a chance to answer, he added “And don’t get too crafty. I know you’ve got several crates of it hidden away somewhere.”

The General waited for the owner to disappear into the kitchen, then he began to comment on the conversation they’d had shortly before. “The Senator is ruthless. We must tread very carefully with him. If anything were to go wrong, he wouldn’t hesitate one moment before hiring somebody to get rid of us.”

“Brilliant” replied the fat guy. “It seems like everyone is madly in love with us, no?”

“Let’s just try and do our work as well as possible and nothing will happen to us” commented the thin guy, who until then had been silent. “I know these sorts, if we don’t create problems and do everything we are ordered to do, it will all be just fine and we’ll each get our well-deserved reward.”

"Yes, a bullet in the middle of the forehead," answered the big guy softly.

“Come on, don’t bring bad luck. Everything’s worked out fine, up to now, hasn’t it?”

“Yes, up to now.”

In the meantime, hidden away in the kitchen, the owner of the restaurant was talking quietly in Arabic, on the phone, “It’s him, I’m telling you, it’s him.”

“It’s incredible that he’s come there without a proper escort.”

“He’s with two other people. I know one of them very well and I’m sure he’s part of some strange organisation that could be linked to him in some way.”

“Can you take a picture of him and send it to me? I don’t want to get all ready to pounce and then realise it’s simply a case of mistaken identity.”

“All right, I’ll see what I can do. Give me a few minutes.”

The man closed the call, turned on the camera on his mobile phone, then placed it in his shirt pocket so the lens was not completely covered and, picking up an aluminium tray, placed three large glasses on it. He opened three bottles of beer and placed them next to each of the glasses. Then he lifted the tray up with his right hand, took a deep breath, and set off towards the table occupied by the three dining companions.

"I hope the brand is to your liking," he said while handing out the drinks. "Unfortunately we don't have many different types. The laws here are very strict about alcohol.”

"Yes, yes, don't worry," said the big guy as he grabbed a bottle and started pouring it for himself, filling the glass with foam.

The man, paying special attention to position himself right in front of the general, picked up his glass, tilted it slightly and carefully poured almost half the bottle into it. Then doing the same with the thin guy’s, he exclaimed "There you go! It doesn’t need a poor Iraqi to teach three Americans how to pour beer, right?"

Loud laughter erupted spontaneously from the three diners who, raising their glasses, clinked them together in an auspicious toast.

The owner, having bowed slightly, withdrew once again into the kitchen. As soon as he crossed the threshold, having checked that nobody was watching, he looked at his mobile phone to check the recording he’d just made. The pictures were a little shaky but the chubby face of general Campbell was clearly visible. He immediately sent the movie to the number he had called earlier on and then waited patiently. Less than a minute went by and the phone vibrated slightly warning him of an incoming call

"It's him," said the voice on the other end. “We’ll be there within an hour at the most. Don't let them leave before we get there for any reason.”

“They’ve only just arrived and they still have to start eating. You’ve got plenty of time,” and he hung up.