Snakehead

relying only on his sense of direction. He had stopped twice to ask for directions from a monk and from a stall holder closing up for the night. They spoke little English but were able to understand enough to point him in the right direction. Even so, it had been well after midnight by the time he had reached Chinatown. Ash had been pacing the room like a lion in a cage, sick with worry, and had grabbed hold of Alex when he finally arrived. He had listened to the story with disbelief.
    “I shouldn’t have let you go,” he said again.
    “You couldn’t have known.”
    “I’ve heard about these fights. The snakeheads use them all the time. Anyone who crosses them can end up in the ring. People get crippled…or killed.”
    “I was lucky.”
    “You were smart, Alex.” Ash looked at him approvingly, as if seeing him in a completely different light. “You say someone was there shooting. They attacked the building. Did you see who they were?”
    “I got a glimpse of someone. But I’m sorry, Ash. It was dark and it was all happening too quickly.”
    “Were they Thai or European?”
    “I didn’t see.”
    Alex was sitting on the bed, wrapped in a blanket. Ash had put his clothes out to dry—not that there was much chance of that. The night itself was damp, on the edge of a tropical storm. He had also brought Alex a bowl of chicken broth from the restaurant at the end of the alleyway. Alex needed it. He hadn’t eaten since late that afternoon. He was starving and exhausted.
    Ash examined him. “I remember the first time I met your father,” he said suddenly. The change of subject took Alex by surprise. “I’d been sent out on a routine operation…in Prague. I was just backup. He was in charge…for the first time, I think. He was only a couple of years older than me.” He took out a cigarette and rolled it between his fingers. “Anyway, everything that could go wrong did go wrong. A building blown to smithereens. Three ex-KGB agents dead in the street. The Czech police crawling all over us. And he was just like you are now.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “I mean you take after him,” Ash explained. “John always had the luck of the devil. He’d walk into trouble and somehow he’d get out of it in one piece. And then he’d sit there—the same as you—as if nothing had happened. Untouched by it.”
    “His luck ran out in the end,” Alex said.
    “Everyone’s luck runs out in the end,” Ash replied, and turned away, a haunted look in his eyes.
    They didn’t talk much more after that. Alex finished his soup and fell asleep almost immediately. The last thing he remembered was Ash, hunched over a cigarette, the red tip winking at him in the darkness as if sharing a secret.

    Despite everything, Alex woke early the next morning. There were a couple of fat cockroaches crawling up the wall right next to him, but by now he had gotten used to them. They didn’t bite or sting. They were just ugly. He ignored them and got out of bed. Ash had already been out, taking Alex’s wet clothes to a laundry to be spun dry. He got dressed quickly, and the two of them went out for a bowl of jok— the rice porridge that many of the stalls served for breakfast.
    They ate in silence, squatting on two wooden crates at the edge of the road with the traffic rumbling past. It had rained in the night, and there were huge puddles everywhere that somehow slowed the city down even more. Once again, Ash had slept badly and there were dark rings under his eyes. His wound was hurting him. He did his best not to show it, but Alex noticed him wince as he sat down, and he looked more ragged and drawn out than ever.
    “I’m going to have to cross the river,” he said at last.
    “The Chada Trading Agency?” Alex shrugged. “You won’t find very much of it left.”
    “I was thinking the same thing about our assignment.” Ash threw down his spoon. “I’m not blaming you for what happened last night,” he said. “But it may well be that our friends in the snakehead have no further interest in smuggling us into Australia. One of their main lieutenants is probably dead. And it has to be said, you took out a large chunk of their operation.”
    “I didn’t set fire to the arena!” Alex protested.
    “No. But you pulled it into the river.”
    “That put the fire out.”
    Ash half smiled. “Fair point. But I need to find out how things stand.”
    “Can I come?”
    “Absolutely not, Alex. I think that’s a bad idea. You