The Khan by Saima Mir (read e books online free TXT) 📕
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- Author: Saima Mir
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‘Edward, I don’t need to prove my credentials to you, because I know and you know that you’ve already done your due diligence on me and my company. Don’t ask me how I know, just trust that I do and think for a moment what that says about me and the information I have on you.’ She pulled a blue file from her bag and placed it on the table. ‘Idris showed you what we know about your employees. I hoped I wouldn’t need to show you this.’ She slid the folder across the table towards Edward. ‘Now, you can choose to do business with us or you can go elsewhere, but don’t underestimate me because I’m not a white man.’
Edward’s mask dropped. His face was now cold and devoid of all emotion. Stripped of his power he seemed to disappear a little, and Jia couldn’t help but enjoy the moment. He slid the blue folder back towards her.
‘We need something in seven days,’ he said. ‘We have an important client coming into town and need to show him a good time. I was looking for something a little different, if you get my meaning?’
Jia nodded and leaned over, putting her hand on his arm and smiling. He didn’t know whether it was fear or relief that washed over him, but he felt compelled to comply.
‘So, let me see if I understand correctly: after the first delivery, we can buy online through the website by placing an order for…I don’t know, stationery or something, and depending on what I pick you’ll know what my order is?’
‘Yes. The code is pretty simple. You’ll pick it up in no time,’ said Idris.
‘Forgive me, but this all sounds crazy. You’re openly selling this stuff online? You’re either brave or stupid.’
‘Bravery has nothing to do with it,’ said Jia. ‘I trust our system. Our IT experts make sure all transactions are obscure. If the authorities wanted to track down our users, they would have nowhere to look. The only money good here is crypto-currency. It’s the online equivalent of a brown bag of cash.’
‘And how will you explain all your crypto-currency?’ said Edward.
‘Our income comes purely from Bitcoin mining,’ said Jia.
‘So what about delivery?’ said Edward. ‘How does that work?’
‘There are a number of ways,’ Idris replied. ‘One way is through the breakfast or lunch order system. Every morning you get your PA to place an order at this number.’ He handed Edward a business card. ‘These are the contact details for your friendly neighbourhood narcotics shop. They also do a mean mozzarella panini and the best all-day halal breakfast in town.’
Edward laughed. ‘That’s what I like about you pick’n’mix Muslims: priorities, you’ve got them straight. Your business may be strictly haram but your food can’t ever be!’
‘We will have told them to expect your call,’ Idris continued. ‘Place your order and at 10.00A.M. and 1.00P.M. sharp the delivery boy will drop it off. Along with your sandwich. The only thing you have to do is wait, and make sure he delivers the breakfast box directly to your office. Lunch deal works well if you’re looking for a hit a day.’
Edward nodded. ‘What if I need deliveries throughout the day? For various people, you understand,’ he said.
‘Then I suggest you go with the Caretaker package. You put one of our guys on your office payroll as a janitor. We handle all the details, vetting, references, employment history, and make sure he has a clean record. He maintains the building, keeps the boys topped up through the day and cleans up – it all works beautifully. Of course, this works for your day-to-day needs. Any parties you want us to cater for, they’ll need our events management services.’
They were unsure what convinced Edward in the end. Maybe it was their sales pitch, maybe he liked their product, or maybe he was afraid of what they had on him. Whatever it was, they knew that this big fish was enough to bring in the ocean.
CHAPTER 37
It was the smell of urine soaking through his father’s trousers that the shopkeeper’s son would never forget. That and the screams coming from within the shop as it burned to the ground.
The knife had been pressed into the sinews of the old man’s neck, his eyes wide: he’d looked like a little child, afraid and helpless. His son had moved towards him, instinctively, but one look from Nowak stopped him dead in his tracks. He stepped back, impotent, angry and afraid in equal measure. They had refused to pay the protection money. Their allegiance had always been with the Khan, but he was dead, and now Nowak and his men were demanding blood.
‘Malala Food Store,’ said Nowak, reading the sign above the cigarette display stand. ‘After the Nobel laureate girl?’ Silence. The shopkeeper’s son only had eyes for his father, and the urine that had pooled by his leg. He felt sick to his stomach. This was his fault. He should have asked Idris for help. He should have called earlier.
‘If you’d paid my men your father would not be embarrassed in this way. But now we have to make an example of you.’ Nowak grinned, brandishing the knife
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