Read Online Countdown in Cairo by Noel Hynd - Free Book Online
Authors: Noel Hynd
Tags: Fiction, thriller, Suspense, Americans, American Mystery & Suspense Fiction, Suspense fiction, Mystery, Conspiracies, Egypt, Fiction - Espionage, Crime thriller, Americans - Egypt, United States - Officials and Employees, Cairo (Egypt)
Ads: Link
marble floors. Even the elevator that brought Alex to Joseph Collins’s floor bespoke old money. The elevator man wore white gloves. Alex wasn’t sure whether she had walked into a time warp or a bank vault.
By 3:00 Alex was comfortably seated in a leather chair before Collins’s desk. Though showing slow signs of aging, Collins still had his easy grace and charm. At seventy-six, he was a man at peace with himself and the world. He sat behind his desk in a tie and suit and spoke fondly of his son, Christopher, who was now involved in missionary work in Argentina.
“The news from Venezuela is not all bad,” he said at length. “The land where the village of Barranco Lajoya stood is unpopulated now. All of the survivors moved to a different settlement. It’s down the mountain a little way and near the valley. I’ve seen pictures. I’m told it’s a beautiful area.”
“What are the plans for permanent resettlement?” she asked.
“I’m not sure there will be a resettlement,” he said. “The people of the village, I think there are about four hundred of them, have adapted somewhat to their new location. I’ve financed new housing for them. It’s nothing elaborate, but it’s functional. Oddly enough, the government offered no resistance when we put new buildings there, even though that dreadful demagogue Chavez is still in power. I know, I know, they criticize us as Yankee imperialists in one breath and accept our charity with the next. But the army can better keep an eye on the people of Barranco Lajoya in their new location.”
“The settlement has the same name?” she asked.
“Well, the people are the spirit of the village, so why not?” he asked. He paused. “I’m thinking, assuming you can get free of your other work, maybe you could make a trip down there in the early spring. Or even February before it gets too hot.”
“I might be able to do that,” she said. “All else being equal.”
“God willing,” he said.
She agreed.
“I should mention,” she said, “one reason I’m in New York is to interview for a job here.”
“You’re leaving Treasury?” he asked with surprise.
“No, not at all,” Alex said. “FinCEN is initiating a new operation that will work out of New York. They offered me a potential promotion that would include a transfer here. I interview tomorrow.”
“I’m sure they’ll invite you to work with them here,” he said.
“And I’m sure they have fifty qualified candidates for every job that might be open,” Alex answered.
Collins snorted slightly. “Of course. You and the forty-nine runners up.”
“You’re too kind,” she said.
“Perhaps,” he said, “and now I’ll be too kind again. My son asked me to continue to administer his apartment while he’s out of the country,” he said. “Chris will be gone for another four months, barring unseen circumstances. So if you’d be comfortable there in his apartment on 21 st Street or need a place on short notice, the key is yours. Just say the word, even if it’s on an hour’s notice. Lady Dora will let you in and give you the key. Hotels are so darned impersonal, aren’t they? I believe you were comfortable down on 21 st Street.”
“Very much so and thank you,” Alex said. “And I was right, you are much too kind.”
ELEVEN
That evening Alex seated herself in Peacock Alley in the WaldorfAstoria. She selected a table for two that gave her a good view of the elegant lobby in front of her as well as the plush bar and restaurant that was to her back.
She glanced to the entrance, looking for Federov. Behind her, the bar was busy with wealthy New Yorkers and tourists, largely foreign, meeting for a drink after business, as a prelude to the theater or dinner. A waiter called on her immediately, but she declined to order until the arrival of the gentleman—she used the term loosely—who was to join her. The waiter smiled, disappeared, and returned with a small dish of nuts and pretzels.
By 3:00 Alex was comfortably seated in a leather chair before Collins’s desk. Though showing slow signs of aging, Collins still had his easy grace and charm. At seventy-six, he was a man at peace with himself and the world. He sat behind his desk in a tie and suit and spoke fondly of his son, Christopher, who was now involved in missionary work in Argentina.
“The news from Venezuela is not all bad,” he said at length. “The land where the village of Barranco Lajoya stood is unpopulated now. All of the survivors moved to a different settlement. It’s down the mountain a little way and near the valley. I’ve seen pictures. I’m told it’s a beautiful area.”
“What are the plans for permanent resettlement?” she asked.
“I’m not sure there will be a resettlement,” he said. “The people of the village, I think there are about four hundred of them, have adapted somewhat to their new location. I’ve financed new housing for them. It’s nothing elaborate, but it’s functional. Oddly enough, the government offered no resistance when we put new buildings there, even though that dreadful demagogue Chavez is still in power. I know, I know, they criticize us as Yankee imperialists in one breath and accept our charity with the next. But the army can better keep an eye on the people of Barranco Lajoya in their new location.”
“The settlement has the same name?” she asked.
“Well, the people are the spirit of the village, so why not?” he asked. He paused. “I’m thinking, assuming you can get free of your other work, maybe you could make a trip down there in the early spring. Or even February before it gets too hot.”
“I might be able to do that,” she said. “All else being equal.”
“God willing,” he said.
She agreed.
“I should mention,” she said, “one reason I’m in New York is to interview for a job here.”
“You’re leaving Treasury?” he asked with surprise.
“No, not at all,” Alex said. “FinCEN is initiating a new operation that will work out of New York. They offered me a potential promotion that would include a transfer here. I interview tomorrow.”
“I’m sure they’ll invite you to work with them here,” he said.
“And I’m sure they have fifty qualified candidates for every job that might be open,” Alex answered.
Collins snorted slightly. “Of course. You and the forty-nine runners up.”
“You’re too kind,” she said.
“Perhaps,” he said, “and now I’ll be too kind again. My son asked me to continue to administer his apartment while he’s out of the country,” he said. “Chris will be gone for another four months, barring unseen circumstances. So if you’d be comfortable there in his apartment on 21 st Street or need a place on short notice, the key is yours. Just say the word, even if it’s on an hour’s notice. Lady Dora will let you in and give you the key. Hotels are so darned impersonal, aren’t they? I believe you were comfortable down on 21 st Street.”
“Very much so and thank you,” Alex said. “And I was right, you are much too kind.”
ELEVEN
That evening Alex seated herself in Peacock Alley in the WaldorfAstoria. She selected a table for two that gave her a good view of the elegant lobby in front of her as well as the plush bar and restaurant that was to her back.
She glanced to the entrance, looking for Federov. Behind her, the bar was busy with wealthy New Yorkers and tourists, largely foreign, meeting for a drink after business, as a prelude to the theater or dinner. A waiter called on her immediately, but she declined to order until the arrival of the gentleman—she used the term loosely—who was to join her. The waiter smiled, disappeared, and returned with a small dish of nuts and pretzels.
Similar Books
