How to Betray Your Country by James Wolff (spicy books to read .TXT) 📕

but already he is ducking his head like a boxer to protect his neck and the plastic point misses by a centimetre and blunts itself against his temple. With one hand at his neck the vizier makes a slow short precise turn and plants his shoulder where August’s chest and stomach meet. He presses him backwards against the wall. In an instant the air is driven from August’s lungs. He has never felt force like it. He grabs at the vizier’s hair and tries to turn his head while with the broken blade he stabs desperately into his exposed face. He can’t breathe. He hears a cracking sound that might be his ribs or something in the wall behind him. The vizier makes a small, precise adjustment and presses harder. August is close to blacking out. The plaster slowly crumbles at his back and falls in soft sugary clouds onto the puddled blood around their feet. Still he pushes.

When he regains consciousness he is slumped on the floor. The vizier stands above him, his chest heaving, the skin around his right eye punctured with tiny holes.

From inside the fridge August listens to him breaking apart the room with his bare hands.

• • • •

Shaving cut, was it? That’ll teach you to get rid of your beard.

Have you got the money?

Calm down, we’ve got it. How’s our boy? Let’s get him out, shall we.

First the money, says the vizier.

Just need to check you haven’t chopped him up into little bits. I wouldn’t put it past you… You got the key for this?

Let me do it.

The door swings open. The man who stands there is in his late twenties, slender, of mixed race. He is dressed in black trousers and a black hooded tracksuit top.

Fucking hell, he says. He scratches a straggly beard.

He is alive, says the vizier. You will not have any problems with him.

I’ve always been a big fan of your work. Hello, mate. Tour bus is here, going to take you on a little ride, visit a few sites. Is he still drunk? Not a bad idea that, keeps him quiet.

The money.

It’s all there. Abu Mustafa wanted to halve it because … well, because he thinks you’re a cunt, basically, but I talked him round. Told him you’re looking pretty desperate. What you doing? You actually counting it? I don’t know whether we should be offended, Ahmed.

He turns to another man, who fills the entire doorway with his bulk. He hasn’t said anything.

Come on, we’ve got to go —

Be quiet.

Doesn’t this seem odd to you?

They look at August. Even the vizier looks up from the money.

Whoa, he can speak! Thought you might have chopped his tongue off. You all right, mate, how’s your hangover? You just sit tight, we’ll have you on your way in no time. They serve cold beer on the bus so you’ll be right as rain.

Can I…

You’re a free man. You can do what you like.

August tries to climb out of the fridge but stumbles and falls to the floor. He pulls himself into a sitting position and clears his throat.

Doesn’t it seem weird that just a few hours ago they didn’t want me and now they can’t wait to get going?

It’s called negotiating tactics, mate. Blowing hot and cold.

And how did they work out for you, August says, those tactics, what with that discount you’ve just negotiated?

What’s that? How about you just —

He swings a vague kick in the direction of August. The vizier looks up again.

If you hurt him it is your responsibility. Be quiet and let me finish counting this. Then you can do what you want.

Yeah, be quiet like the boss says.

Shut up, man.

I’m just saying, as a neutral observer, it’s clear who’s in charge in this situation. And it’s definitely not —

Yeah, whatever, let the old man count his money.

Seriously though, August says, am I the only one who thinks this is odd? You basically said a couple of hours ago that you’d give them a discount and now they can’t wait to pay you the full amount.

The man’s got a bag of cash, what does he care?

He’d care if he knew you’re trying to cheat him.

What? How are we trying to cheat him? We’ve just paid him his money. Every last penny.

You should be paying him ten times that much.

What are you talking about? Ten times for some string-bean kafir drunk cunt? This is how much he asked for, this is how much he’s getting. What is this, The Apprentice, you’re having a go at my negotiating skills? Shut up, man. Are you done counting that fucking money, bro? We need to go.

The man filling the doorway shifts his feet and looks at his watch.

The vizier is halfway through his count. There’s no sign that he’s listening. August allows the silence to settle and then tries to laugh. The pain in his ribs makes him gasp.

What’s so funny?

How you’re getting worked up. If only you could see your face. You’re worried that he’s going to realize what’s happening and call you out. You’re worried that you’re going to have to crawl back to Abu Mustafa with your tail between your legs and explain how you messed up a simple task.

What are you even talking about?

The vizier pauses.

Why do you think you are worth ten times this amount?

Bro, don’t even waste your breath on him, just count your money. We need to get out of here like now.

Why do you think you are worth ten times this amount?

Do you remember last time they were here? They took a picture of me and sent it back. It’s obvious. Someone recognized me.

The man in the tracksuit laughs.

Someone recognized you? What, you think you’re David Beckham or something?

Someone I’ve met before recognized me, says August. One of the brothers. I worked for British intelligence for a long time so it could have been any one of them. The number of people I stopped at the airport or bumped on the street… The point