Requiem for an Assassin

decisions at BP. All pipes have some rust, just not enough to matter. But who could contradict the company? It was the perfect excuse. I think Hilger wanted to see the global impact of an interruption. And I think he found it unsatisfactory. He wants something bigger—not just a pipeline, a whole refinery complex. Like the one at Rotterdam.”
    I sighed. “Why can’t you deal with him through channels?”
    He laughed. “I’ve got a friend in the Inspector General’s Office. I talked to him about Hilger once. He told me the man is untouchable. No one even wants to mention his name. The word is, he’s got leverage on a lot of people, and powerful friends, too. No one’s willing to go after him at the top, and if you try from down below you’ll run into obstructions, or worse. Do you get it now? The system’s broken.”
    We were quiet for a moment. I said, “What are you asking me?”
    “Boezeman lives in Amsterdam. Go there. Brace him. Find out what Hilger’s been up to and help me stop it.”
    “Don’t you have real secret agents who are paid to do this kind of thing?”
    “Yeah, we have lots of them. All I have to do is fill out the necessary paperwork explaining where my intel comes from—that means you, by the way. Except…oh, shit…no one knows about you. Since the first time you helped me with my treasonous boss in Tokyo, I haven’t reported our contacts, which is a felony, by the way. I’ve shredded files on you—oops, another felony. But I’m sure the bureaucrats who run the CIA and are beholden to Hilger will be happy to overlook all that and do whatever I ask of them in Amsterdam or anywhere else as long as I say please.”
    He was quiet for a moment, breathing hard.
    “Look,” I said. “It’s not that I don’t want to help. But we had a deal. You help me with Dox, I take out Hilger.”
    “You’re breaking the deal. You’re letting Hilger walk away. I’m saying okay, just help me in Amsterdam, instead.”
    I shook my head. “No.”
    “You killed two people. Both with families. Don’t you even want to try to prevent whatever all that was intended to foster?”
    I wasn’t even aware of crossing the room. It was like I was gone for a second, and when I came back, I had him against the wall, my hand gripping his shirt, my forearm jammed against his throat.
    “I did that for my friend,” I snarled. “Not to help Hilger, or anyone else. For my friend. Because I didn’t have a choice.”
    “Does that mean you don’t care?” he rasped, his mouth a grimace.
    I held him there a second longer, then let him go. He coughed and massaged his throat, but he didn’t take his accusing eyes off me.
    “Tell me something,” I said. “The difference between you and Hilger.”
    He cleared his throat and swallowed. “The ends, Rain. It’s all about the ends.”
    I looked at him. “I bet he’d say the same thing.”
    “He’d be right.”
    We stood there for a moment in silence. Finally, I said, “I’ll think about it.”
    “That’s all I’m asking.”
    “You sound like Tatsu. And you’re manipulating me the way he did, too, you bastard.”
    He smiled. “Thank you.”
    “Yeah, he would have said that, too.”
    I borrowed his shower, changed into fresh clothes, and got ready to head out. “I’ve got some things to do,” I said. “I’ll leave my bag here, if that’s okay. Why don’t you load the gear into your van and reconnoiter the yacht club. Don’t get too close. You don’t need to know the interior layout. That’s my job. You do need to know the streets, ingress, egress, everything.”
    He started to say something, but I cut him off. “Sorry,” I said. “I know you know that. I’ll meet you back here in two hours.”
    He smiled and held out his hand. I shook it. He started to say something again, and again I cut him off.
    “Don’t tell me to do the right thing,” I said. “I already told you I’d think about it. Don’t sell past the close.”
    He looked at me. “What, are you psychic now?”
    I frowned. “What, then?”
    “I was just going to say good luck. Is that okay?”
    I told him it was. We were going to need it. And so was Dox.

28
    I DID A ROUTE from the hotel to make sure I was still clean. Then I stopped at Orchard Towers, a nondescript office complex in the city’s shopping district. No one would know from the utter diurnal blandness of the place that every night it was overrun by a raucous throng of calculating prostitutes and eager