Two-Way Cut

chapter 10

Van Wyk chose a big Yamaha for the hunt, the bike giving him speed and flexibility. He wore leathers and carried a small pack with a tent and sleeping-mat, and the clients first message had taken him to the town of Prospect, way out in the west of the state. When van Wyk was finished there he coasted to a stop on the forecourt of a service station, propped the bike on its stand and went in and called his message service again, idly watching a couple of young guys who were eyeing the Yamaha. The road west stretched empty across a red dirt plain. Good, there was a message: Call your client. Van Wyk dialed the guys fixed phone, not his mobile and said, What have you got for me?

Ive just had word, the client said, and went on to tell van Wyk that the target had been located—except he almost said the targets name before he could stop himself. Sometimes van Wyk wanted to sit his clients down and slap them about the face and demand to know how serious they were. Emotions don’t come into it when the decisions been made, he wanted to say. Names are personal things, they denote feelings. My job is impersonal. I hit targets.

Plus, the wrong people might be listening in.

When and where?

Ten minutes ago, a Coles Supermarket carpark in Leighton Wells.

Is she still there?

No. Shes with another woman, they’re driving a white 1970s Holden panel van, heading west along the Borung Highway.

Did your man make contact?

Not exactly.

What do you mean, not exactly?

Theres another player involved.

Don’t stuff around. Spit it out.

Two other players, to be exact. They tried to jump the target and her friend in the carpark but they got away.

Your man saw it?

Yes.

Who are they?

Don’t know. They headed after the panel van in a black Range Rover. My guy ran the plates: they belong to a Volvo station wagon.

Are you sure they’re not after the other woman? Do we know anything about her?

Nothing.

Wheres your man now?

Somewhere behind them.

Keep me informed, van Wyk said, breaking the connection.

He bought muesli bars for the hunt. Outside he agreed with the young guys that yeah, it was a cool bike.