Read Online Dead Roots (The Analyst) by Brian Geoffrey Wood - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Brian Geoffrey Wood
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texted Keda back and made his way out to the living room. He downed the last sip of his coffee and slipped into his new jacket, heading out into the hallway.
********
The lobby was nothing short of resplendent. Golden lighting made the ivory-colored marble floors shine, and lent the wooden walls an enchanted quality. This was a five star place, no doubt about it. It was another sea of black suits. He'd more or less expected to see a bunch of fashionably dressed tourists getting ready to hit the Tokyo nightlife, but these were high-rollers and professionals on executive trips. Ray-Bans and designer suits decorated the lobby like icing on a multi-layered cake.
Peering over the heads of the crowd looking for Keda, he finally spotted him by the large glass entranceway, flanked by the same driver from before. Another figure was standing with them, one Tom boggled when he recognized. The bearded face lit up, and the eyes brightened behind a pair of eyeglasses.
“Are you serious?”
“Fuckin' A, Tom.”
“Artie? When did you-- what?”
Artie bounded over to Tom, and put an affectionate arm around his shoulder. Tom's mouth was open, and he raised his hands in bewilderment. Keda was just standing there, smiling, as usual.
“What are you doing here?” Tom said. “You can't be here.”
“Took a flight six hours after yours. I'm on leave this week anyway, figured you could use the company.”
“Artie, you can't be here. You've never chaperoned before. This isn't a pleasure cruise, I'm here on business.”
Artie erupted into his trademark rolling laugh. Against the backdrop of the lobby, Tom thought it was like a hillbilly had broken into a New England country club. People turned to look at him with distaste, and then Tom realized Artie was a hillbilly, and the analogy wasn't far off.
“What- ever. We're going to tear this place apart.”
“I'm here on business, Artie.”
“Yeah, but I hear that this Harold guy likes to party. He's taking us out to dinner.”
“I'm telling Margaret about this,” Tom said. Artie followed him towards Keda and the driver. They stepped out onto the rain-soaked front steps of the hotel. Tom could make out the limousine by the streetlights and shop windows, and raised an arm to cover his head.
“After the exorcism, we will be joining Harold for dinner and some entertainment,” Keda added once they were in the car and could hear each other over the drum of the rain. “Initially I didn't know what to make of your friend here turning up, but it could be prudent to have your number one Operator meet with some of his contemporaries in this country, yes?”
Tom pulled the door shut with a slam.
“That's bullshit, Keda. You fell apart this morning. Why aren't we in separate cars?”
“Excuse me?”
The car hummed to life and pulled out of the hotel's driveway.
“This is the most unprofessional load of crap I've ever seen. Artie is an Operator, he doesn't have my training. If Aki starts trying to escape again, he's totally unprepared.”
“I'm not totally--” Artie started.
“Artie, shut up. Keda, we should be in separate vehicles. You're still hosting, and frankly, after this morning, I don't want to be in a vehicle with you. You should have organized a second ride.”
Keda was silent. Artie shifted uncomfortably. He pulled his hat down over his forehead and shrunk back in his seat, trying to stay out of the crossfire. The car pulled out onto the street. It had barely gone a block before Tom finally spoke up again.
“Stop the car.”
Keda's eyes widened.
“What?” Keda asked sheepishly.
“Tell the driver to stop the car.”
Keda was silent.
“ Do it. ”
Keda reached slowly and rapped on the glass separating them from the chauffeur. The glass came down. Keda said something in Japanese. The driver responded and Keda repeated himself. The car pulled over and slowed to a stop.
Tom pulled the handle on the door and stepped out into the rain.
“Tom, where
********
The lobby was nothing short of resplendent. Golden lighting made the ivory-colored marble floors shine, and lent the wooden walls an enchanted quality. This was a five star place, no doubt about it. It was another sea of black suits. He'd more or less expected to see a bunch of fashionably dressed tourists getting ready to hit the Tokyo nightlife, but these were high-rollers and professionals on executive trips. Ray-Bans and designer suits decorated the lobby like icing on a multi-layered cake.
Peering over the heads of the crowd looking for Keda, he finally spotted him by the large glass entranceway, flanked by the same driver from before. Another figure was standing with them, one Tom boggled when he recognized. The bearded face lit up, and the eyes brightened behind a pair of eyeglasses.
“Are you serious?”
“Fuckin' A, Tom.”
“Artie? When did you-- what?”
Artie bounded over to Tom, and put an affectionate arm around his shoulder. Tom's mouth was open, and he raised his hands in bewilderment. Keda was just standing there, smiling, as usual.
“What are you doing here?” Tom said. “You can't be here.”
“Took a flight six hours after yours. I'm on leave this week anyway, figured you could use the company.”
“Artie, you can't be here. You've never chaperoned before. This isn't a pleasure cruise, I'm here on business.”
Artie erupted into his trademark rolling laugh. Against the backdrop of the lobby, Tom thought it was like a hillbilly had broken into a New England country club. People turned to look at him with distaste, and then Tom realized Artie was a hillbilly, and the analogy wasn't far off.
“What- ever. We're going to tear this place apart.”
“I'm here on business, Artie.”
“Yeah, but I hear that this Harold guy likes to party. He's taking us out to dinner.”
“I'm telling Margaret about this,” Tom said. Artie followed him towards Keda and the driver. They stepped out onto the rain-soaked front steps of the hotel. Tom could make out the limousine by the streetlights and shop windows, and raised an arm to cover his head.
“After the exorcism, we will be joining Harold for dinner and some entertainment,” Keda added once they were in the car and could hear each other over the drum of the rain. “Initially I didn't know what to make of your friend here turning up, but it could be prudent to have your number one Operator meet with some of his contemporaries in this country, yes?”
Tom pulled the door shut with a slam.
“That's bullshit, Keda. You fell apart this morning. Why aren't we in separate cars?”
“Excuse me?”
The car hummed to life and pulled out of the hotel's driveway.
“This is the most unprofessional load of crap I've ever seen. Artie is an Operator, he doesn't have my training. If Aki starts trying to escape again, he's totally unprepared.”
“I'm not totally--” Artie started.
“Artie, shut up. Keda, we should be in separate vehicles. You're still hosting, and frankly, after this morning, I don't want to be in a vehicle with you. You should have organized a second ride.”
Keda was silent. Artie shifted uncomfortably. He pulled his hat down over his forehead and shrunk back in his seat, trying to stay out of the crossfire. The car pulled out onto the street. It had barely gone a block before Tom finally spoke up again.
“Stop the car.”
Keda's eyes widened.
“What?” Keda asked sheepishly.
“Tell the driver to stop the car.”
Keda was silent.
“ Do it. ”
Keda reached slowly and rapped on the glass separating them from the chauffeur. The glass came down. Keda said something in Japanese. The driver responded and Keda repeated himself. The car pulled over and slowed to a stop.
Tom pulled the handle on the door and stepped out into the rain.
“Tom, where
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