Читать книгу Redback - Lindy Cameron - Страница 10

Wellington, New Zealand:

Tuesday 7.15 pm

Aaron Danby fiddled with the coins in his pocket. There were few things that annoyed him more than having to wait around for self-important people to get their own shit together.

Christ! He was the Australian Foreign Minister. He was sitting between the New Zealand PM and her Foreign Minister, and some other fairly significant people from around the western Pacific. Yet here they were, waiting for a bloody low-level CIA spook to take a call from home, before he could finish his redundant briefing.

Around about the fifteenth minute of these official talks on what could, should and would be done to secure the release of the hostages, his PA Mick had stuck his head around the door and nodded at him. Danby assumed that had meant the retrieval team had started retrieving.

Ten minutes later the American had been beeped. He left the room like his duds were on fire.

And now here they all were - actual important people - making small talk.

'You wouldn't credit this would you,' David Bailey, his Kiwi counterpart whispered. 'What do you reckon the odds are of having an international crisis only a week after taking this portfolio?'

Danby turned to Bailey, a wiry little man who looked not unlike a bantam rooster. 'Welcome to the Foreign Minister's club,' he smiled, 'where shit happens daily.'

Bailey gave a snort of laughter. 'I suppose I should be grateful I'm not in the middle of organising a major international meeting like you are, Aaron.'

Danby shrugged. 'Another bonus of our club, David, is that 'we' don't have to organise anything anymore. The SETSA meeting is being tooled to perfection by an entire city full of bureaucrats who I'm sure are thrilled to have something different to do with their time. We just have to meet and talk, front up and negotiate, turn up and argue.'

Bailey smiled. 'What on earth do you suppose that American spy is up to?'

'No good, no doubt,' Danby said, acknowledging Mick who this time had entered the room without his poker face. 'But it looks like my only source of reliable intel may have news.'

Mick crouched down between the two ministers. 'I've worked out the difference between terrorists and rebels,' he said.

Knowing how much his friend loved to preface something relevant, intriguing or even vitally important with a choice bit of trivia, or a throwback to a previous conversation, Danby raised an eyebrow.

'Terrorists blow things up and give you the finger. Rebels blow things up and ask for a negotiator.'

Bailey chuckled, while Danby waited for the inevitable.

'You know that proverbial shit?' Mick continued.

'Aha,' Danby acknowledged nervously.

'Well, it's hit the fan. Big time. But,' Mick was grinning now, 'it's neither our shit, nor our fan.'

'Translation?' Danby requested quietly.

'They're all out, and safe, and on their way here.'

David Bailey's eyes widened with surprise. Aaron Danby sat up, ready to make an announcement.

'Aaron wait,' Mick said, also placing a calming hand on Bailey's arm.

'What?'

'Let's wait to see what that Yank - oh here he is - has to say about his countrymen gate-crashing our party, and turning a clean operation into a loud and destructive balls-up.' Mick was clearly thrilled.

'You're still smiling, Mick,' Danby prompted.

'From which they came away completely empty-handed and allegedly down three men.'

Toyko, Japan:

Tuesday 4.15 pm

Hiroyuki Kaga could not believe what he was hearing. He stood his ground and stared at the intruder.

'I am waiting,' the tall bald man said.

'You barbarian! You think you can talk to me this way?' Hiroyuki had, until that moment, been civil to the bear of a man who stood uninvited before him. 'You must leave now.'

'I will leave when it is done.'

'It will not be done,' Hiroyuki stated. 'And you must be a mad man. Yes?'

'That is quite possible, sir. But still I wait. On you and your decision.'

Hiroyuki frowned. He much preferred his first impression: that this gaijin had mistaken him for someone else, that he'd come to the wrong door. Even when the stranger had pushed his way inside, to prowl the space he shared only with Kaisha, Hiroyuki still believed the man was in error. He had, after all, been accusing him of things he had not done, would never do. 'Do you know who I am?'

'Yes, Kaga-san. I know exactly who you are,' the man said, bowing slightly.

'You show respect, though what you say is foolish.'

'That too is true. But at least I give you a choice.'

'It seems we do not share the same definition of that word.' Hiroyuki was worried now. The gaijin was in the right place - for him. And his purpose was more than a threat to unveil a lie as truth. He had declared his intention to fabricate a reason for an honourable man to take a certain course of action.

'I will not do this,' Hiroyuki declared. 'No one would believe that of me.'

'I am not here to argue with you, sir. This is simple. Do as I ask, or your honour will be as nothing. Your colleagues and all your work will be harmed by the scandal, regardless of your decision. But if you choose to force my hand, your family will be shamed by your death at the hands of another; and then again, by the murder of your son.'

'My son?' Hiroyuki felt his soul wrenched from his body. 'What kind of man are you that would threaten a four-year-old child?'

'It is you I am threatening, Kaga-san,' the man said softly, lifting Hiroyuki's katana from its stand. He bowed respectfully over it then offered the ancient sword, with both hands, to the only man who should ever draw it. 'And, as I say, I give you a choice: a warrior's death or an ignoble end.'

Hiroyuki Kaga reached for the heirloom that had given faithful service to three Tokugawa shoguns, and proclaimed, 'But I could kill you first.'

Dargo flexed both wrists to unsheathe his blades. 'You could try Kaga-san. But even if you were to defeat me, I am not alone in this. Others would follow, and they would not care as much for your honour as I do.'