Читать книгу Back To Earth - Danilo Clementoni - Страница 12

Colonel Hudson was nervously pacing up and down the hallway in front of the main dining area of the restaurant. Virtually every minute, he checked the tactical watch he always wore on his left wrist. He didn’t even take this off to go to sleep. He was as excited as a teenager on a first date.

To help pass the time he had ordered a Martini on the rocks with a slice of lemon. The moustached barman watched him from beneath his thick eyebrows while lazily drying a set of long-stemmed glasses.

Alcohol was not permitted in Islamic countries. That evening, however, an exception had been made. The small restaurant had been completely reserved for the two of them.

As soon as he’d finished his conversation with Doctor Hunter the Colonel had contacted the owner, requesting the Masgouf house special, from which the restaurant took its name. Because of the difficulty in obtaining the main ingredient, which was tiger sturgeon, he had wanted to make sure that the establishment could provide it. Knowing that it required at least two hours of preparation, he had insisted on its being cooked unhurriedly, to absolute perfection.

As his camouflage uniform was inappropriate for the evening, he had decided to dust off his dark Valentino suit, which he combined with a silk regiment-style, grey and white striped tie. The black shoes, polished as only a soldier knew how, were also Italian. The tactical watch certainly had nothing to do with this, but he could not have done without it.

“They're on their way”. The crackling voice came from the receiver, similar to a mobile phone, which he kept in his breast pocket. He switched it off and looked out through the window.

The big, dark car swerved to avoid a crumpled bag that was suspended in the breeze and rolling lazily along the street. With a quick manoeuvre it drew up right outside the restaurant entrance. The driver allowed the dust raised by the vehicle to settle back onto the ground, then cautiously got out of the car. The “all clear” came from the headset concealed in his right ear. Carefully, he glanced at all the previously agreed positions, until he was certain that he had identified each one of his fellow soldiers who, in combat gear, would take care of the security of the two diners for the duration of the dinner.

The area was secure.

He opened the rear door and gently held out his right hand to help his passenger out.

Elisa thanked the soldier and elegantly stepped out of the car. She looked upwards as she filled her lungs with the clear evening air, pausing for an instant to contemplate the magnificent view that only the starry sky of the desert could provide.

The colonel waited for a moment, unable to decide whether to go out and meet her or stay inside and wait for her to come in. In the end he chose to remain seated, in the hope that this would make him appear less nervous. Then, with feigned indifference, he walked over to the bar, perched on a high stool and, resting his left elbow on the dark wooden surface, downed the last drop of the beverage that remained in his glass, watching as the lemon seed fell slowly to the bottom.

The door opened with a slight squeak and the military driver looked around, checking that everything was in order. The colonel gave a slight nod, and the escort showed Elisa in, inviting her to walk ahead with a generous sweep of the hand.

“Good evening, Doctor Hunter,” said the colonel, rising from his stool and displaying his best smile. “I trust that the journey was comfortable?”

“Good evening, colonel,” replied Elisa, with an equally dazzling smile. “Very nice, thank you. Your driver was very kind.”

“You can go now, thank you,” he told the driver in a voice of authority. With a military salute, the young man turned on his heels and disappeared into the night.

“Can I offer you an aperitif, professor?” asked the colonel, calling the moustached barman over with a wave of the hand.

“Whatever you’re having,” replied Elisa without hesitating, pointing to the glass of Martini that the colonel was still holding. Then, she added, “Please call me Elisa, colonel. I’d prefer it.”

“Certainly. And you can call me Jack. “Colonel” is just for my soldiers.”

This is a good start, thought the colonel.

The barman skilfully poured the second Martini and handed it to the new arrival. Lifting her glass, she clinked it with that of the colonel.

“Cheers,” she said in a lively tone, taking a sip.

“I must say you’re looking splendid this evening, Elisa,” said the colonel, running his eyes quickly up and down his guest.”

“Well, you don’t look so bad yourself. A uniform may have its charms, but I prefer you like this,” she said, smiling devilishly and tilting her head to one side.

Somewhat embarrassed, Jack turned his attention towards the contents of the glass he had in his hand. He stared at it for a while, then threw the whole lot down in one gulp.

“Shall we go to our table?”

“Good idea,” exclaimed Elisa. “I’m starving.”

“I’ve ordered the house special. I hope you’ll like it.”

“Don’t tell me you persuaded them to cook the Masgouf!” she asked, stupefied, widening her lovely green eyes as much as she could. “It’s almost impossible to find the tiger sturgeon at this time of year.”

“Only the best for a guest like yourself,” said the colonel smugly, on seeing that his choice seemed to have gone down well. He held out his right hand politely and invited her to follow him. Still wearing the mischievous smile, she let him lead her to the table.

The venue was attractively decorated in a style that was typical of the region. The lighting was warm and subdued, and the enormous curtains extending from the ceiling almost covered the walls. A large carpet with Eslimi Toranjdar designs covered virtually the entire floor, whilst other, smaller ones had been placed in the corners of the room, as if to frame the whole. Of course, according to tradition the meal should have been consumed whilst lying on the soft, comfortable cushions on the floor, but as a typical westerner the colonel had preferred a more “normal” table. Even this was carefully laid, the colours chosen for the tablecloth matching the rest of the building perfectly. Background music, in which a Darbuka⁹ with a Maqsum¹⁰ rhythm accompanied an Oud¹¹ melody, gently filled the room.

A perfect evening.

A tall, slim waiter approached them politely, and with a bow, invited them to take a seat. The colonel let Elisa sit down first whilst he concentrated on arranging his chair, then he sat opposite her, taking care not to let his tie slide onto the plate.

“It really is very nice here,” said Elisa, looking around her.

“Thank you,” said the colonel. “I must confess I was a little worried that you wouldn’t like it. But then I remembered your passion for this area and I thought it would be the best choice.”

“You guessed correctly!” said Elisa, showing off her marvellous smile yet again.

The waiter uncorked a bottle of champagne, and whilst he was filling both goblets, another arrived, carrying a tray. “Would you like to try a Most-o-bademjun¹² ”.

The two diners looked at one another with delight. Picking up their respective glasses they toasted once again.

In a dark car approximately one hundred metres away from the restaurant, two strange people were tinkering with a sophisticated surveillance system.

“Have you seen how the colonel’s pampering that chick?” said the decidedly overweight one in the driver’s seat with a grin. He was chewing an enormous sandwich and filling his belly and trousers with crumbs.

“It was a brilliant idea, inserting a transmitter into the professor’s earring,” replied the other, much thinner one, who had large, dark eyes and was sipping coffee from a large, brownish paper cup. “We can hear everything they’re saying from here.”

“Make sure you don’t mess this up, and record everything,” scolded the other, “otherwise they’ll make us eat those earrings for breakfast.”

“Don’t worry. I’m very familiar with this equipment. We won’t even miss a whisper.”

“We have to find out exactly what it is that the lady has discovered,” added the fatter one. “The boss has invested a whole lot of money to follow this research in secret.”

“That certainly won’t be easy considering the tight security structure the colonel has put in place.” The thin man looked up at the sky as if in a dream, then added “If they gave me even a fraction of that money right now I’d be stretched out under a palm tree in Cuba, and the only thing I’d have to worry about would be whether to order a Margarita or a Pina Colada.”

“And maybe even a few girls in bikinis to smear you with sunscreen,” said the big man, who burst out laughing, making the crumbs fall off the belly that was wobbling up and down.

“This appetiser is delicious.” The professor's voice was slightly distorted by the small speaker on the panel. “I must confess I never thought there’d be such a sophisticated man hiding behind that hard, military exterior.”

“Why, thank you, Elisa. And I would never have thought that such a highly qualified academic, as well as being beautiful, could be so friendly and charming,” said the colonel, whose voice was again somewhat distorted, but slightly lower.

“Listen to them flirting,” exclaimed the big man in the driver’s seat. “I reckon they’ll end up in bed.”

“I’m not so sure,” asserted the other. “Our doctor is clearly a clever woman, and I don’t believe that dinner and a sleazy compliment like that will be enough to make her fall into his arms.”

“I’ll bet you ten dollars they do it tonight,” said the fat man, extending his right hand towards his colleague.

“Okay, you’re on,” agreed the other, shaking the large hand that had been offered.