Chapters (58)
- Cover
- Also by Oliver Harris
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- FORTY-TWO
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-FOUR
- FORTY-FIVE
- FORTY-SIX
- FORTY-SEVEN
- FORTY-EIGHT
- FORTY-NINE
- FIFTY
- FIFTY-ONE
- FIFTY-TWO
- FIFTY-THREE
- FIFTY-FOUR
- FIFTY-FIVE
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
‘Go for it.’
He gave me an address in the Triumph of Astana.
FIFTY
Apartment 601. No name. I was told to buzz, say I had a delivery, get the lift straight up.
Satayev ended the call, and I was left staring across the gym equipment. I was being swept along by something. This was my last chance to escape, I thought, but I knew I was kidding myself. That moment had long passed. I wanted to know what story I was in.
Walker had arranged a driver. He put a tracker on the case, the size of a memory card. Morbid curiosity kept me moving.
The dawn was dreamlike and fragile. People huddled at the bus stop in the grey sunrise, looking at phones. There was heavy activity around the government district, tactical vehicles containing special forces driving in. A city in shock. Viewing it through tinted glass didn’t help shake the sense of travelling through a dream. Towards a dream.
I kept the case on my lap as GL5 drove me there, but that made me self-conscious so I put it on the seat beside me as if it was just another load of paperwork. I had an earpiece that connected to GL5 high command, a discreet microphone on my jacket. The vehicle would be tracked on satellite. None of this helps you feel secure. As a rule I don’t handcuff briefcases to my wrist: it’s blatant, and arms get severed for a lot less than 1.5 million dollars. Still, you never get used to carrying that amount around.
We turned north. The Triumph appeared. I felt a heavy, sleep-deprived wave of dread. Something was making sense in a way I could only associate with impending death.
‘I want to walk in on foot,’ I said, trying to keep some kind of control on the situation.
He shook his head. ‘That is not possible.’
We entered the building’s shadow. Barriers for the underground car park sank into the ground and we sped down the ramp towards a lot of high-end vehicles under neon.
There was a lift in the underground car park, with its own armed guard.
‘I think I’ll be okay from here.’
‘We’ll stay by the car.’
The lift took me up to the ground-floor reception where I had to cross the lobby to another set of lifts. These lift doors opened to reveal a gleaming interior of polished brass and mirrored walls. I stepped inside, reflected to infinity – me and 1.5 million dollars rising through the building, asking myself why I was still alive.
The doors opened on a long corridor, five doors in each direction. Number 601 was the furthest to the left. The beige carpet absorbed all sound.