The Eye of Shiva

CHAPTER 46

Nick called the number Harker had given him. Selena and Lamont waited with him. Nick had the phone on speaker.

"Yeah."

The voice on the phone sounded like gravel.

Nick said, "The water in the river isn't very good to drink."

"No shit," the voice said. "They told you to use that old chestnut?"

Nick felt like an idiot. "You want to give me the response before I hang up?"

"Yeah, okay. It's because the women wash their clothes in it."

"Where can we meet?" Nick asked.

"There's a place right on the river downtown called the China House. Lousy food, but they've got cold beer and we can watch the boats go by. You know where it is?"

"No."

Nick listened to the directions.

"Two hours."

"How do I know who you are?"

"I'll be the guy in the cowboy hat."

The line went dead.

"He hung up," Nick said.

"Cold beer," Lamont said. "Guy sounded like he'd already had a few."

Two hours later, they were sitting on a scarred wooden deck overhanging the Jhelum river at the China House. The water flowed past twenty feet below, broad and cloudy and brown. Bits of debris and garbage floated by on the surface. A light breeze brought a faint smell of sewage from the water. It had stopped raining. A faded red awning over the deck sheltered them from the glare of the sun.

The river was busy with river taxis and boats that looked too fragile to handle the passengers they carried. The boats were long and pointed at each end, narrow, with broad sun canopies that made them look top heavy. The gunwales were inches above the surface of the water. I wouldn't want to be in one of those if a strong wind came up, Selena thought.

The waiter brought three large bottles of Kingfisher beer. Lamont poured some into a glass and tasted it.

"Not bad," he said. "Strong. Like a Bud on steroids."

"Here comes the cowboy," Selena said. "Bet he calls himself that."

"Kind of old," Lamont said.

Langley's asset was somewhere in his late sixties. He was about five ten, with a lean, gnarled look. He needed a shave. His hat was a brown Stetson, stained with sweat. He wore a khaki colored shirt, dark pants and heavy brown work boots. He moved with confidence, but Nick saw him tilt a little as he approached.

The man sat down across from Nick and reached across with his hand.

"Jeb Akron. Most people call me Cowboy."

Selena looked at Nick. See?

Akron's grip was strong. His hand was rough in Nick's grip.

"I'm Nick. This is Selena and Lamont."

A waiter appeared unbidden with a bottle of Kingfisher covered with drops of condensation. He set it down in front of Akron.

"Nice to see you, Mister Cowboy," the waiter said.

"You, too, Choy. Thanks."

"Your favorite spot?" Nick said.

"I come here a lot."

Akron took a long swallow from the bottle. Selena looked at Nick and raised an eyebrow.

"I think this is a mistake," Nick said.

"You ought to think again," Akron said. "You want help from the big dog in Virginia, I'm it. Don't let this fool you." He picked up the bottle and gestured vaguely with it. "It's what they expect to see."

"Who?" Nick saw that Akron's eyes were clear and focused. They weren't the eyes of a man who'd had too much to drink.

"You think three foreigners visiting Srinagar when a war's about to start aren't an item of interest to the security forces here?" Akron said. "Two of them are watching us from the other end of the deck. Their buddies are probably going through your rooms right now. Not to mention that little incident at your hotel."

"You know about that?"

He took out an old style steel Zippo cigarette lighter and lit an unfiltered cigarette. He set the lighter upright on the table. It bore the globe and anchor of the Marine Corps.

"We are Langley. We know all," Akron said. "Don't worry, they can't hear what we're saying. That's more than a lighter."

"You were a Marine?"

"Yup. Still am."

"Vietnam?"

"That's right. I was a WO. I flew choppers. Two tours."

Nick's estimation of Akron went up. The casualty rate for helicopter pilots in Vietnam was staggering. Akron had to know what he was doing and he had to be damned lucky.

"What were you told about us?" Nick asked.

"You might need a lift somewhere. Maybe over the border."

"It could get hairy," Nick said.

"Your point?"

"We don't know where we're going yet, but we will. Once we do, how do you plan to get us there?"

"I've got a Huey," Akron said.

"What's a Huey?" Selena asked.

Akron looked at her, then at Nick. "Why is she here?" he said.

Nick put his hand on Selena's arm before she could say anything.

"Sometimes you need to get past what you think you see," Nick said to Akron. "Like what I'm trying to do with you right now. Trust me, you want her on your side. What she doesn't know about helicopters isn't a problem. If it is, we're done here."

Lamont said, "A Huey is a chopper, Selena. They used them for everything in Vietnam. Suits an old guy like him." He looked at Akron. It wasn't a friendly look.

Akron looked at the three of them.

"Okay," he said. "Sorry. No offense meant."

"Selena?" Nick said.

She was annoyed. Akron came across as one of those macho males who figured women were no use except in the kitchen or in bed. Still playing warrior when he should be playing golf somewhere. Or whatever old warriors did.

"He meant it, but it doesn't matter," she said. "As long as he can do his job."