False Horizon. Alex Archer

The man paused. “And you say Tsing has the uppermost floor to himself?”

      “It is my understanding that he lives there, yes.”

      “You’ve been inside?”

      “Never.”

      “I need to know what is going on. Is it possible for you to get inside?”

      Tuk frowned. This was going a bit further than he normally went. Surveillance was one thing. Actual infiltration was something else entirely. And it meant danger. Especially since Tsing, Burton and Kurtz all knew who he was. If they spotted him…

      “I realize this is asking more than you are normally tasked with,” the man said. “But I will make sure you are properly compensated for your efforts. If you can get inside and make sure that Annja Creed is safe, I will pay you an additional fifty percent of your fee.”

      Tuk’s heart raced. With that much money he could easily leave this life behind and retire out in the countryside. It was too good not to take the chance. And if he happened to get a shot at Burton or Kurtz, perhaps he could exact a small measure of revenge on them.

      As if reading his mind, however, the man continued to speak. “Make sure no one sees you. It is absolutely vital that Annja Creed not know you are watching her. She is incredibly intelligent. Any hint of your involvement will inevitably cause her to start reasoning out my existence in this matter. And at this moment, I cannot afford for her to know I am here. Do you understand?”

      “Perfectly.”

      At that moment, Tuk heard a sudden scream and then a body crashed down across the street into a stand of trees. There was a sickening sound of impact and then nothing more. A few spectators started forward and then Tuk heard someone yell for an ambulance.

      “What was that?” the voice on the phone said.

      Tuk frowned. “If I know the man, and I do, it would appear that Tsing just had someone thrown off the roof of the hotel.”

      “A woman?”

      Tuk shook his head. “No. It was a man.”

      “The same man who accompanied Annja Creed into the hotel.”

      Tuk bit his lip. “I don’t know. It could have been, I suppose, but in the darkness I cannot tell.”

      “She could be in danger,” the man said. “It’s vital you determine whether she is or not. If you think her life is in jeopardy, you must call me back as soon as possible.”

      “I understand.”

      The line disconnected and Tuk slid across the street. Already in the distance, he could hear the approaching sirens.

      As he came abreast of the circular drive leading up to the hotel entrance, he paused and then moved to where the body lay. In the midst of the curious onlookers, he drew no attention to himself.

      Crumpled in a bloody mangled heap was the body of the man who had just fallen. Tuk looked him over and saw that the pants were not the same color as those worn by the man who had accompanied Annja Creed.

      That was good news.

      He turned back to the lobby. A steady stream of onlookers was rushing out to see what had caused so much commotion. Entering the lobby now would make him stand out. He waited a few minutes until he saw a bellhop dragging a luggage cart behind him.

      That was his chance.

      Tuk sidled up next to the cart and walked smoothly into the lobby as if he belonged there. He had often found that confidence helped with his virtual invisibility. The cart also helped hide him behind the garment bags.

      Tsing occupied the penthouse and gaining access to that area required a special key in the elevator. Tuk had no such key. That meant he would be forced to take the stairs.

      He entered the elevator and pressed the topmost-floor button, holding it down to cause the elevator to run express to his destination. He regarded himself in the mirrored doors and smiled. All that money! It would be his if he could just live long enough to see this assignment finished.

      As the numbers flashed by, Tuk thought about the relative peace he would soon enjoy. Long walks would be the greatest exertion he would face, but otherwise, he would leave behind all the congestion and urban decay. And he would be immensely grateful for it.

      At last, the top floor came up and the elevator dinged softly before the doors opened. Tuk looked out to either side, but saw no one else in the hallway. He stepped out and let the doors close behind him.

      Down the hall he saw the exit sign for the stairwell and headed for it. He hoped that it would also go up to the penthouse and roof. Surely Tsing’s men had used it to throw their unlucky prisoner over the top. Tuk would use it to gain access to the penthouse floor.

      He pushed open the door carefully, and listened. As he had hoped, the stairs ran up as well as down. He stepped into the cool stairwell and quietly strode up the steps.

      Two flights farther up, he saw an unmarked door and stopped. This was the penthouse level.

      A small amount of space showed under the door and Tuk got down on his knees and bent his face until he could see under the crack. He paused and let his eyesight adjust to the darkness on the other side.

      As far as he could tell, there was no one in the penthouse hallway.

      Tuk raised himself and turned the doorknob slowly.

      The door opened and Tuk slid through. He could smell the incense that Tsing always insisted be kept burning. Tuk’s nostrils flared in disgust. He hated everything about Tsing, and his preference for incense and anything vaguely mystical was in direct contrast to his barbaric ways.

      But one thing that Tsing insisted on helped Tuk and that was the low light. He faded into the shadows near a potted giant fern next to the massive oak doors and sidled up as close as he dared to the main entryway. This would make for a decent observation post.

      How long would he need to stay, though? The man on the phone had told him to make sure Annja Creed was safe. But how could he do that if he was out here? Tuk listened at the door in vain. The heavy wood barred any sound from passing through it. And unlike the stairwell door, there was no such space at the bottom of the entry doors to the penthouse.

      Tuk realized with a start that he would have to enter the penthouse itself.

      He examined the door in front of him. There would be people inside. At least five, he reasoned. Tsing, Burton, Kurtz, Annja Creed and the other man. There might even be more.

      Tuk took a breath and examined the lock. He could force his way in, he supposed, but that would simply alert everyone to his presence. And the man on the phone had been most insistent that he remain utterly invisible to Annja Creed.

      Tuk wasn’t sure how the woman would be able to piece together Tuk’s presence with the man on the phone, but he knew enough not to question such things. If the man on the phone demanded that Tuk remain invisible, then that was exactly what Tuk would have to do.

      But how?

      He heard a vague sound and realized almost too late that someone was approaching the door. He slid back behind the large fronds and then heard the telltale click of a lock being disengaged.

      The door swung open.

      Tuk held his breath.

      A solitary figure swept out toward the elevator bank. A woman dressed in a long mandarin-style dress with a slit running up its side revealed a brief flash of skin as she passed the giant fern.

      The elevator doors slid open and she stepped inside. In the light of the elevator, Tuk could see the sharp lines of her Han ancestry. She had the look of lethal beauty about her.

      The doors closed and Tuk stepped out from behind the fern just as he heard the doors to the penthouse swing shut. A soft gasp of air told him they must have had a delay to their closing to keep them