Page 19 of Into the Gray Zone (Pike Logan #19)

The train came to rest a short distance from the base of the stairs, and Mr.Chin exited behind his chatty friend. He walked

to the broad staircase, seeing both sides flanked by restaurants not yet open for lunch. Looming in front of him was a seemingly

endless string of granite stones rising steeply up the side of a small mountain. He paused to get his bearings, noticing the

man from the rail car doing the same. Mr.Chin glanced at him, then began climbing the stairs. The man followed, a few feet

behind. Mr.Chin stopped at a shop selling trinkets and souvenirs, and the man stopped as well.

This isn’t going to work.

Mr.Chin engaged the stall owner in conversation, hoping the train companion would continue on. They haggled over the price

of a stone facade depicting the famous carvings up top. The train man simply took a seat on the stairs, waiting.

Mr.Chin began to believe he worked for Peanut, but it presented a quandary. If he didn’t, Mr.Chin most certainly couldn’t

lead him to the meeting site. If he was just a local attempting a clumsy robbery of an unsuspecting tourist, then Mr.Chin

would have to deal with him.

He continued up the steps, and the man finally came abreast saying, “Is this your first time here?”

Mr.Chin said, “Yes, it is. And you?”

“No, no. I come here all the time. I like to practice my English with people like you.”

Mr.Chin nodded, and they walked together, the man continuing with small chitchat until they finally reached the top. Mr.Chin

was at a loss as to how to lose the guy. He couldn’t outright demand he leave without drawing attention to himself, and he

now wished he’d taken the local tour guide up on his offer, only to tell him to screw off at the top after one tour of a cave.

He paid the entrance fee and the man did the same, following him into the historical site, strangely just tagging about two

feet away, saying nothing. It was odd, to say the least.

There were five different caves in the complex, but only one was worth the trip—the main cave. It was first on the path, and

the reason that everyone came to visit, being large enough to traverse inside, with pools and sculptures in bas relief throughout.

His meeting site was at cave five, which was little more than just a jagged hole in the rock, with little to see.

Mr.Chin decided to walk straight to it, leaving his straphanger to the tourists at cave one, hoping he’d find someone else

to talk with. Mr.Chin walked briskly down the path, passing caves two through four, then stopped to assess his surroundings.

He’d been so involved with the local, he hadn’t thought about his own safety.

The path dropped down a flight of stairs with a toilet facility on the left, a cliff beyond it. He saw two security guards

wandering about, but no other tourists. Clearly, this area wasn’t worth the extra effort to see. He waited a bit more, settling

into the rhythms of the area, and felt a touch on his elbow.

Startled, he turned and saw the local from the train. He said, “You didn’t want to see the main cave?”

Now aggravated, Mr.Chin said, “Leave me alone. I want to enjoy this by myself.”

The man’s face curled into a smile, like he’d proven something to himself. He said, “You are by yourself.”

For the first time, Mr.Chin saw a little bit of a predator. A small slice of who the man was. And he knew the local wasn’t

practicing his English. Now Mr.Chin had a choice: eliminate this man and go to the meeting, or lead him to the site. If he

was with Peanut, he couldn’t very well kill him. But if he wasn’t, he most certainly needed to be eliminated.

Mr.Chin eyed the public bathroom and said, “If you insist on walking with me, at least let me go to the restroom by myself.”

He walked down the steps and tipped the cleaning man outside some rupees, saying, “Paper?”

The man unrolled some toilet paper and handed it to him. He went inside, but instead of going to a stall, he went to the corner,

waiting. If the interloper was with Peanut, he’d wait outside, as there was nothing to be gleaned by following him in. If

he intended something else, then Mr.Chin would be waiting.

He reached down and pulled a small dagger out of his boot, controlling his breathing. Thinking of the last time he’d done

this. Thinking about the mechanics of taking a life. Getting ready for the explosion of violence.

Nobody came in after him.

He exhaled and went to the toilet, now needing to urinate. And felt a shadow in the door. He turned, and the local was there,

saying, “I really am practicing my English, so, is it ‘Give me what you got’ or ‘Hand over your wallet’?”

Mr. Chin turned, glad he hadn’t opened his pants yet, now smiling. He had no qualms about killing, only about killing the wrong person. He said, “Did you send the man outside away? Because I’ll shout and he’ll hear.”

The local said, “Of course I did. It cost me some money to do so, but you’ll pay that back with the camera you’re carrying

alone.”

Mr.Chin said, “Thank you for making this easy. I appreciate it. Do you understand that English?”

The man looked confused, and Mr.Chin struck, his arm working like a jackhammer with his blade, stabbing the man in the chest

over and over, as if he was chopping an ice block.

The man let out a single scream and then fell to the floor, Mr.Chin over him, continuing to stab holes in his body, letting

out the air in his lungs like a deflating balloon.

The man quit moving, and Mr.Chin wiped the blade on his body, then dragged the carcass into a stall, closing the door. He

went to the sink and washed his hands, cleaning off the blood. He stopped and checked his pulse, timing it with his watch.

He was getting old, and was interested in how it affected him. Ninety-eight beats per minute.

Not as good as he had been in the past. But still not shabby.

The fact that he’d just killed a man never entered his mind. Only the mission mattered.

He exited the toilet, looking for the cleaning attendant he’d talked to outside. He didn’t see him. He spotted one of the

local security guards and said, “Where’s the final cave?”

The man smiled and pointed to a path leading around a bend. He took it, walking in a measured pace. He rounded the corner

and saw cave number five, two men on a bench outside of it. One of them had a head that looked like it had been squeezed at

eye level, with the top popping out like an hourglass.

So that’s why they call you Peanut.

He went straight to the bench, not wanting to remain any longer than necessary. The man with the misshapen head stood up and Chin said, “Mr. Peanut? I’m Mr. Chin.”

Peanut said, “What was the stop at the toilet, and who was the man with you? Where is he?”

So he was watching.

“He was a crook. I tried to get rid of him, but he was persistent. I had to eliminate him.”

Peanut nodded, not even reacting to the words. He turned to the man to his left and said, “Check it out.”

The man left, and Peanut said, “If he’s not in the toilet, you won’t leave here alive. Do you understand that?”

“Of course. I understand.”

They waited, and the man returned, saying, “He’s dead. We need to leave.”

Peanut said, “We’re good for a little bit.” He turned to Mr.Chin and said, “So, what is this about? I give you some men and

that’s not enough?”

Chin knew this was a break point. He had to handle it delicately. He said, “Your men were exactly what I needed, and I appreciate

it, but they weren’t enough. It’s why I asked to meet you in person.”

“What do you mean, not enough?”

“They didn’t execute the mission as envisioned.”

Peanut stared at him for a moment, then said, “What does that mean? I give you men because you pay well, but I don’t control

how they’ll be used. What did they do wrong? Was it them, or was it you and your plan?”

Mr.Chin nodded and said, “It’s exactly the second thing. They executed well, but my plan ran into something unforeseen, and

I need to prevent it from happening again. I need more men.”

“More? Those two weren’t enough?”

Mr.Chin paused, then said, “Those two are dead.”

Mr.Chin saw Peanut’s eyes squint. He said, “What? Dead how?”

Mr.Chin held up his hands and said, “We ran into some Americans. I didn’t know they were there, and I honestly don’t know

if they were there on purpose, but they caused the death of your men. And I need to stop them from interfering in my mission.

It’s still in play.”

“Why should I give a shit about your mission?”

“Other than the pay, you mean?”

Peanut moved closer, towering over Mr.Chin. He said, “Don’t toy with me. Those were two of my best men, and you got them

killed. I’m not one to throw good money after bad. Or good men.”

Mr.Chin said, “I know, I understand, but the Americans are a concern. The local police have the bodies of your men, and the

United States FBI might become interested. I regret it immensely, but their death might bring you more pain. That’s all I’m

saying.”

“Pain how?”

“Well, my mission was thwarted, but I don’t believe they know what my mission was. All they have are the bodies. They were

the only two who died.”

“So you didn’t get that fuck Thakkar, and instead just brought heat on my organization? I ought to throw you to the wolves. Nobody here likes the Chinese. Not me, not the Americans, not the RAW.”

Mr.Chin said, “But you like my money and my influence. You want to continue supporting your Muslim friends under the protection

of Pakistan? You want to keep your business going here, in India and the UAE? I’ll allow that by having my country turn a

blind eye, but if you threaten me again, I’ll make sure you’re crushed.”

Mr. Chin took a step toward him, and even through the discrepancy in size, Mr. Chin’s venom leaked out. He stared Peanut in the eye and said, “You still function because we haven’t joined in the effort to stop you, but trust me, if we did, you would cease to exist. UAE is our friend now, and Pakistan has always played a double game. They care more about China than they do about your little business.”

Mr. Chin backed off and said, “Don’t ever threaten me again.”

Peanut took a breath and then said, “What do you want?”

Mr. Chin said, “I don’t need you to do anything for the mission. I have that. All I need is for you to interdict this group.”

He swung his backpack around and pulled out a file folder, opening it to a Grolier Recovery Services cover page. He said,

“I’m not even sure if these guys are against me, but I need them interfered with.”

Peanut took the folder, saying, “Interfered with, or eliminated?”

“At this point, just interfered with. Give them enough trouble to be stuck with a police investigation. Mugging, robbery,

whatever. Just trip them up. They might simply be tourists, so I don’t want them harmed enough to draw an investigation by

the United States.”

Peanut flipped through the file, saying, “And if they aren’t tourists? How will you know?”

“If they follow my men, if they track Thakkar, then I’ll know.”

“Track to where?”

“Delhi. Thakkar is going to New Delhi, and then headed to Agra for a visit to the Taj Mahal. He’s basically rented half of

the Taj for himself, under the rubric of ‘security concerns.’ If they go to Delhi, I’ll know. But you’ll prevent that, because

I want them out of the hunt before they even have a chance to follow.”