Contracts, Matt Rogers [phonics reading books TXT] 📗

violated. The owner wouldn’t have agreed to anything if it ran the risk of ruining his business. A shootout in the hallways of a popular tourist destination wouldn’t do anyone any favours in the long-term, so the job would have to be carried out quietly.

That, at least, gave them something.

King made it back to the dry room.

The satellite phone in his pocket shrieked.

And he found Slater half-conscious.

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He answered with one hand, and used the other to haul Slater to his feet.

He already knew it was Violetta.

‘Please tell me you have something,’ he said. ‘We’re quickly running out of options. I think our cover’s blown already.’

‘Are you in Gokyo?’

King took almost all of Slater’s weight and helped him limp across the dry room into the corridor, plunging them both into shadow. The whole time, he kept the phone pressed to his ear. Slater murmured something. King said, ‘Wait one,’ and leant over.

‘What?’ he said to Slater.

‘Not … doing well.’

‘No shit.’

‘Need rest. Not for long. Just got to … gather myself.’

‘You need a fucking hospital.’

He kept dragging Slater toward room 105.

Then he leant back into the receiver and said, ‘Yeah, we’re in Gokyo.’

‘Were you talking to Will just then?’

‘Yeah.’

‘He’s not doing well, then.’

‘I think his body’s having trouble circulating oxygen.’

‘Headaches? Nausea?’

King relayed the questions.

Slater shook his head. ‘No. Just … heavy.’

‘You need to get him to a lower altitude,’ Violetta said.

‘We can’t do that right now.’

‘Jason, you’re going to have to push on alone.’

‘Why?’

‘We have another video.’

‘Oh, Christ. Can you hold on?’

‘Yes.’

They reached a cheap door at the end of the hallway with “105” scratched into the wood. King shoved the key into the lock, twisted, and pushed it open. The whole time he fought the knot in his stomach.

Another video.

He wasn’t sure if he wanted to watch.

Slater mumbled, ‘What did she say?’

King didn’t respond. He helped him into the room and lowered him to one of the thin mattresses. It was freezing, practically the same temperature as outside. King peered out the window, his breath clouding in front of his face. He saw nothing but the outlines of distant buildings obscured by the snowstorm. He drew the blinds shut and helped Slater adjust his position in bed. Then he picked up the phone again.

‘How bad is it?’ he said.

‘Raya’s not in it.’

King paused. ‘Who is?’

‘Oscar Perry.’

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King took his time to respond.

Then finally he said, ‘Just let me watch it.’

‘I’ll send it through now.’

‘I’ll call you back.’

He hung up, sat down on the other single bed, and put his elbows on his knees.

Slater said, ‘Why the long face?’

‘There’s another video.’

A pause.

Slater said, ‘What did they do to her?’

‘Nothing. Violetta said Perry’s in it.’

‘Show me.’

‘It hasn’t come through yet, but—’

The phone beeped in his palm.

King opened the file and scrutinised the thumbnail. It showed Oscar Perry, all six-foot-two of him, all his muscle, all that curly blond hair. He still had the same superficial cuts and scratches dotted across his cheeks and jawline, but there was a certain vitality in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. He was sitting on a chair in a bare concrete room.

There was a piece of lined paper in his hands.

He was reading from it.

‘Hope the pair of you are tired,’ he said, his voice stilted as he vocalised the written message. ‘You’ve done well to make it to Gokyo. We thought you’d turn back, but you haven’t, so now we’re somewhat impressed. We agree to meet with you. Maybe you can be the negotiators for your government instead. But you know what that means. If something happens to Raya, you’re the ones responsible. That’s a lot of weight on your shoulders. That’s a heavy burden to carry.’

Oscar Perry took a deep breath before continuing.

‘We are already at a pre-established encampment a short hike down the other side of Gokyo Ri. Don’t worry — it’s well hidden. We made the climb today. Raya, to her credit, persevered well. The pair of you can meet us there tomorrow at nine a.m., and not a minute later. This is the only opportunity we will give you to resolve this peacefully. Hiking up to this elevation should sap every last bit of energy from you, especially after what you’ve managed to cover in three days. That’s exactly how we want you when we meet face-to-face. We are looking forward to it. Please bring your best negotiation tactics, and don’t even think about bringing backup. The benefit of our position is an unobstructed view of anyone coming up to the peak. You even think about using a helicopter, we’ll know. And we won’t be here when you arrive. We know this terrain better than you or anyone in your government.’

Perry gulped, wiped sweat off his brow, and hunched over a little more.

Clearly uncomfortable.

‘So,’ he continued. ‘Those are the conditions. Nine a.m. tomorrow. As you watch this video, we probably know where you are staying. But we will hold back. We will not attack you tonight. We want you tired, but not dead. Raya Parker is clearly worth a lot of money, and we’re not about to waste that opportunity. So you can sleep comfortably, knowing that we place value in your lives, and we will see you tomorrow. Do not try to figure out who is behind this. There’s no point. Good luck.’

Perry looked up, meeting the gaze of someone behind the camera, and nodded once.

All done.

There was a grunt of approval, and the feed cut out.

King played it back one more time, took in every word that left Perry’s mouth, and then when it came to its conclusion for the second time he said, ‘It’s him.’

Slater said, ‘We don’t know that.’

King gave him a look, as if to say, Really?

‘What?’

‘You think a Nepali porter wrote that? You think his English is that good?’

‘I don’t know,’ Slater admitted. ‘I have no fucking idea what’s going on. Care to enlighten me?’

‘I’m just as much in the dark as you. I don’t know why Perry’s doing it, or how he’s working