Clumsily staggering upright, he then slid along the wall until he reached a corner of his makeshift cell.
He could feel a faint breeze there, which surely meant an open window. He next slid along the second wall, until he encountered the edge of the windowsill with his fingertips. Cool air ruffled his hair and made him wonder how high up above the ground he was.
Saul continued on his way, shuffling past the window and skirting around the next corner, until he felt a door handle brush against his fingers. He twisted himself around, bending his knees slightly until he could get a grip on it. The handle clicked slightly as he tugged at it, but the door was firmly locked. As he’d expected, really, but there was no reason not to try.
The door suddenly slammed open so that Saul lost his balance, toppling forward to hit the floor hard. He twisted around until he was lying on his back, then felt the air explode out of his lungs as someone drove 0">
Saul woke to blinding light as the bag was ripped from over his head. He sneezed and blinked, before gazing around at four bare plaster walls. To his right, he saw an open door and a half-open window beyond a floor of bare concrete. Plastic crates were stacked in a corner, each stamped with the name of a biotech pharm, probably agricultural supplies or seed stock.
Narendra stood by the window, the cloth bag still clutched in one hand. To one side of him stood a barrel-chested man with a shaven head, gripping a shotgun in both hands. His gaze was dark and entirely lacking in mercy.
‘I guessed it was you,’ Saul rasped at Narendra. ‘My contacts. What did you do with them?’
‘They’re somewhere safe.’ Narendra scratched at his goatee before stepping forward to kneel at Saul’s side. ‘I’m going to untie you now,’ he explained, ‘but please don’t try anything foolish. Eren here would be delighted to have an excuse to kill you.’
Saul felt his wrists fall loose, and he slowly moved his hands around in front of him. All the while, the barrel-chested man, Eren, watched him with the keen interest of a bird of prey dropping towards a field mouse. Predictably, his wrists were bruised and purple, and on flexing his shoulders, he heard their joints creak in protest.
A third man entered, carrying a tray laden with coffee and what smelled like kofte ekmek, rich with spices and onions and wrapped in brightly coloured paper. The man handed the tray to Narendra, then departed without a word. Saul heard his own stomach rumble.
‘You can get put away for a long time for kidnapping an ASI agent,’ said Saul, trying to ignore the pervasive aroma of the food. ‘Just how long have you been keeping me here?’
Narendra assumed a slightly apologetic expression, as if this were nothing more than a terrible misunderstanding. ‘Two days,’ he explained, placing the tray on the floor next to Saul. ‘Eat first, then we can talk.’
Saul laughed weakly. ‘What, now you’re trying to soften me up before you get to work on me with a pair of pliers? I don’t have anything to say to you, or to anyone else.’
‘All we want to know is why you’re here.’ Narendra’s gaze flicked towards Eren, then back again. ‘I’m sorry about your treatment. If it’s any help, it wasn’t my decision.’
‘I haven’t done anything that warrants kidnapping me off the street, believe me,’ Saul insisted angrily.
Eren barked some comment at Narendra, then headed over to the door. Narendra followed him abruptly, then paused with one hand on the handle. ‘As a gesture of goodwill, we won’t put the cuffs back on for the moment,’ he said. ‘But please think hard eat whatever you may want to tell me when I return, or else things may turn out very bad for both of us.’
‘It would help if I had the slightest idea what the hell you want from me,’ Saul yelled after him.
Narendra quickly locked the door behind him, leaving Saul finally alone with the food. He ate ravenously, his eyes watering from the rich spices flavouring the meatballs.
Once he had finished, Saul made his way over to the window and discovered that he was perhaps thirty storeys above ground level. So far as he could tell, he was confined in one of several residential towers strung along the sloping side of the valley. He could see construction teams, like tiny, multicoloured ants, clambering around the tower that was its nearest neighbour. It stood perhaps a kilometre away, its upper floors presently a tangle of girders. He even thought about shouting for help, but the chances of anyone hearing him were extraordinarily slim.
He stepped back to the door and pressed his ear against it, listening hard. After a moment he was rewarded by the sound of a throat clearing.
Saul passed most of the rest of the morning watching cargo drones drift above the city canopy, obviously on their way to and from other settlements. Without his contacts, he felt desperately isolated, as if he was stranded naked in a jungle with no idea how to get home.
Narendra returned in the early afternoon, again accompanied by Eren. He placed a wooden chair in the centre of the room, while Eren gestured with the barrel of his shotgun, and barked several unintelligible commands indicating that Saul should kneel. Once he had complied, Narendra stepped quickly behind him, binding his wrists once more.
Narendra took a seat on the chair, facing Saul, while Eren moved to stand directly behind him.
Narendra rubbed his palms against his thighs. ‘I must ask you again,’ his eyes fitted up towards Eren, with more than a touch of nervousness, ‘why you came here.’
‘None of your damn business,’ replied Saul.
Narendra merely nodded, and took out a small pouch. He began to roll himself a cigarette, carefully balancing the paper on one knee as he added a pinch of tobacco. ‘I did say earlier that it would be better for both of us,’ he remarked, without looking up from his task, ‘if you answered.’
There was a faint tremor in Narendra’s voice, and Saul noticed the broker’s hands were shaking very gently. It wasn’t difficult to guess that he was deadly afraid of Eren. He’s out of his depth, Saul realized.
‘Does Eren here know just what you do for a living?’ Saul asked suddenly. He could hear the slow in-and-out of Eren’s breath, and could picture the shotgun muzzle hovering just centimetres from the back of his skull.
‘Yes,’ Narendra replied, still focused on his work. ‘He is very much aware of it. We are . . . siness associates, you might say.’
Saul nodded, as if in understanding. ‘So all that information you gave me about Shih Hsiu-Chuan, last time I was here . . . that was all a set-up, am I right?’
Narendra’s eyes flicked up to meet his, then lowered. ‘Yes. When did you realize?’
Saul shrugged. ‘Lee Hsingyun turning up when he did was just too convenient, and he obviously knew a lot more about us than we did about him. Outside of the ASI, you’re the only one who knows we had an interest in Hsiu-Chuan.’
‘You’re not the only person I trade with, Saul. It goes both ways.’
‘Yes,’ Saul nodded, ‘but in return for the information you give us, we allow you to continue trading, just as long as you don’t cross us. In all the years we dealt with you, this is the first time you’ve done that, so why now? What’s at stake that suddenly everything’s different?’
‘You sound,’ said Narendra, ‘like you already have an idea why.’
‘I always realized all that stuff you liked to spout about staying “neutral” was just bullshit, but I could never figure out just where your true loyalties lay. Now I think I do. Your friend Eren’s with one of the separatist groups, right?’
Narendra said nothing, lit his cigarette and took a draw, the smoke drifting up pungently.
‘Not Fan Pan Zhe,’ Saul continued, ‘so I figure it’s Al Hurr. They’re pretty much running Sophia these days.’