Troubleshooter

Chapter 23 - Afterkill

Wednesday, December 2nd

THE ASIAN Man came back to his apartment in the early morning. It had been a long day and a long night. He took off his coat and jacket, unknotted his tie, and splashed water into his face to feel a little fresher. He glanced into the mirror; there were no telltale signs of his all-nighter. He decided not to go to bed after all; two hours of sleep were as good as nothing and he was used to much worse missions. Considering the fact that he had just killed another man, he probably would have gotten no sleep anyway. His pulse was still ticking away like mad.

When in doubt, prepare tea. While he watched the leaves of the green tea infuse color to the hot water, he considered the events of the night. Had it been a lucky break or a lucky avoidance of disaster? The dead Mr. Schwartz had found incriminating material in the house of Mr. Kendall, so the investigation into Strom Defense would have gotten some leads from that. Stupid Kendall to have hidden the stuff in his house. Amateur hour. Even worse was the fact that the Asian Man himself hadn't found the material after killing Kendall the previous Friday.

So, the discovery that Mr. Kendall had been on the take and had planned a quick exit, had been contained. Knowledge had died with Kendall and Schwartz. Hopefully. So much on the good side.

On the not-so-good side, the strategies of Mr. Schwartz hadn't exactly been auditor-like. His approach and action had been that of an experienced professional and it had taken all the Asian Man's shooting skills to stop Mr. Schwartz.

The Asian Man started drinking his tea, sitting on his window ledge, watching the early morning traffic picking up. The Asian Man had the feeling that he had stepped on a rattlesnake in the body of a fifty-year-old man.

Schwartz was a mystery. He had had nothing on him. And that meant: nothing. No identifying papers, no keys, no phone, no wallet. The incriminating material that Schwartz had retrieved from Mr. Kendall's home had still been on the dining table. The clothes were off-the-rack stuff from Marks&Spencer and H&M; the shoes were mid-price models from one of the big chains. Worked like a pro, reacted like a pro, dressed like a pro. Must be a pro.

Had he just killed a British agent? A policeman? Or an interested third party?

Well, all speculation. He would see how things developed. His plan was still in motion with Thursday being Day Zero. Even if the danger level had picked up, the plan was still intact.

He decided to read the Wednesday morning news and then prepare for work. Might as well show up early at the office —it was appreciated by his boss.