The Last Ringbearer (33 page)

CHAPTER 42

Umbar, 12 Seashore Street

June 5, 3019

M 
ongoose walked unhurriedly down the embassy’s corridors. The worse and more dangerous a situation is, the more deliberate, unhurried, and polite must the commander be (at least in public); to judge by the serene smile firmly plastered to Mongoose’s face, the situation was the worst it could possibly be.

He found the station chief, Captain Marandil, in his office.

“Hail, Captain! I’m Lieutenant Mongoose, here’s my badge. I am carrying out a top-secret assignment here in Umbar. Regretfully, I’m having some problems …”

Marandil did not even stop gazing at his nails; it was obvious that some invisible shred of skin on his left pinkie was of much more interest to him than some visitor’s problems. Just then the door banged open, and a burly young man almost seven feet tall pushed the lieutenant aside most unceremoniously:

“Time to start, boss! The girl’s first class!”

“You guys must’ve gotten yours dipped already,” the captain grumbled querulously, but familiarly.

“No way, sir! The boss gets first dibs, we regular folks follow … but the lady’s already undressed and waiting impatiently.”

“Let’s go, then, before she gets a chill!”

The big man guffawed; the captain started getting out from behind the table, but caught Mongoose’s look. Something in that look suddenly made him feel that he had to explain: “She’s from last night’s catch, a Mordorian spy! The bitch’ll wind up in the canal anyway …”

Mongoose was already dispassionately studying the kitschy ornaments on the ceiling (rather tasteless stuff, really); he was genuinely concerned that the overwhelming fury he felt was about to spill out through his eyes. Sure, spying is a cruel business; sure, a third-degree interrogation is, well, an interrogation in the third degree; sure, the ‘girl’ should have understood the risks before she got into these games, that’s all fair and by the book … What was absolutely not by the book was how these two colleagues of his behaved – like they were not in His Majesty’s service, but rather … Actually, to hell with them all – so far, at least, straightening out the resident spies is not within Task Force Féanor’s ambit. The lieutenant addressed Marandil again, this time in such a gently persuasive tone that any competent person would have immediately guessed how serious he was:

“My apologies, Captain, but my business brooks no delay, believe me. I’m sure that your subordinates can handle that job adequately without you.” He nodded at the big guy.

The big guy positively bent over with laughter, and then drawled, clearly encouraged by his boss’ sneer: “Forget it, Lieutenant! You know how they say: three out of four problems solve themselves, and the fourth is unsolvable. Better come with us to the basement – the cutie’ll service you first, you being a guest and all. She’ll lick you or you can lick her …”

Marandil surreptitiously enjoyed this put-down of the visitor from the capital. Of course, he’ll have to assist, but first let the man understand that here, in Umbar, he’s a nobody and his name is nothing.

“How are you standing in front of a superior officer?” Mongoose inquired in a flat voice, looking Marandil’s henchman up and down, lingering on the tips of his boots a bit.

“What’s wrong with how I’m standing? I’m not falling over, right?”

“That’s an idea,” the lieutenant said thoughtfully and moved forward in a light dancelike move. He was a foot shorter and half as wide as his opponent, so the big man struck carefully to avoid accidentally killing him with his melon of a fist. He struck and froze in amazement: Mongoose did not even dodge the blow or fall back – he simply disappeared into thin air. The man stood gaping until someone tapped his shoulder from behind – and he actually turned around, the fool …

Mongoose stepped over the prostrated body – fastidiously, as if it was a pile of manure – stopped in front of Marandil, who involuntarily retreated behind the table, panic clearly visible in his eyes, and remarked drily:

“Your subordinates can barely keep their feet. Are you starving them or something?”

“Hey, you’re cool, Lieutenant!” the other managed to say with a forced smile. “Don’t be offended; I just wanted to see you in action …”

“I figured as much. Have you seen enough?”

“Are you maybe one of those, what’s their name –
nin’yokve
?”

“That’s a different technique, albeit based on the same principle. Back to business. Regarding fun in the basement – I’m afraid you’ll have to wait, perhaps even abstain, if you excuse a flat joke. Order your people to start without you. Oh, and let them remove this impudent youth.”

Mongoose turned down both wine and coffee and got straight to business: “Yesterday your people tried apprehending Baron Tangorn at the Seahorse Tavern. What does this mean? Have you perhaps forgotten that Ithilien is a vassal of the Crown of Gondor?”

“We had no idea it was Tangorn! He gave Mordorian recognition signals, so my boys thought he was their courier.”

“Aha!” Mongoose closed his eyes for a second. “This changes things. So he is undoubtedly tied to Mordor. Well, he’s useless to them now, too.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll get him before nightfall. It’s not just us looking, we’ve activated the Umbar police. They’ve already found one of his lairs, he’d left it literally half an hour before they showed up …”

“That’s why I’m here. You must immediately stop looking for Tangorn. Tell the police that this was an accident, a miscommunication between two friendly secret services … especially since this does resemble reality.”

“I don’t understand how you …”

“You don’t have to understand anything, Captain. Are you familiar with the letter
?” Marandil took one look at the square of silk in the lieutenant’s hand and visibly blanched. “The baron is my responsibility, and he must not concern you. Call your people off, but most importantly – I repeat – stop the police immediately! Should Tangorn fall into their hands rather than mine, it’ll be a catastrophe that will cost us both our heads.”

“But, Lieutenant, sir … He killed four of my people!”

Mongoose shrugged. “He did the right thing. Fools that get into conversations with their targets ought to be killed on the spot. Now: you stop looking for Tangorn and simply wait. It’s not unlikely that he’ll show up soon one way or another …”

“Show up? Is he nuts?”

“Not at all. However, he’s apparently in a tight bind, and as far as I understand him, he’s inclined to bet the farm in such situations. Should you learn anything about him, let me know right away: have a Dol Amroth pennant hoisted under the Gondorian flag on the embassy flagpole, and soon someone will pay you a visit. Thereafter you’ll forget ever hearing the name Tangorn. Understood?”

“Yes, sir! Listen, Lieutenant, we’ve learned that he used to have a broad here …”

“Seven Jasper Street?”

“Ye-e-es …” Marandil drawled in disappointment. “So you know already?”

“Certainly. It looks like he’d spent the night before last there. So?”

“So shouldn’t we shake something out of her?”

Mongoose grimaced tiredly. “What do you expect to shake out of her? What positions they’ve used and how many orgasms she’s had? What else can she tell? Tangorn is not enough of an idiot to talk business with his lover.”

“Still, maybe …”

“Captain, I repeat: forget everything that has anything to do with Tangorn – these are my problems now, not yours. Should you meet him in the street, just cross to the other side and then have the Dol Amroth pennant hoisted, all right? By the way, concerning your problems: I understand that you’re now harvesting the old Mordorian network. Forgive the impertinent question, but – what for?”

“What do you mean – what for?”

“Is it any kind of a nuisance to you, pray tell? In any event, why have you started grabbing the agents instead of putting a watch on them to figure out their connections?”

“We were in a hurry, just in case the DSD is double-dealing …”

“DSD?! Was it they who gave you the Mordorian network?”

“Well, yes. A goodwill gesture …”

“Captain! That’s a fairy tale for retarded children! Try thinking this over one more time – why would they make you such a princely gift? What do they want in exchange? Well, whatever, those are your problems, like I said; do what you think best. Goodbye!”

Mongoose headed for the door, but half-way there looked around suddenly: “Oh, and one more thing, Captain. In anticipation of your professional enthusiasm …” He hesitated, as if choosing the right words, then put his misgivings aside: “Anyway: if any of your men comes any closer than three arrow-flights to Jasper Street, I’ll feed you a salad of your own balls. Understand?”

Their eyes met for only a moment, but it was enough for Marandil to comprehend clearly: this one will follow through.

Mongoose’s foresight came true the very next day. An Inspector Vaddari, one of Umbar Police’s operatives, desired an urgent meeting with Marandil downtown. The inspector was not one of the policemen who worked for the Gondorian embassy directly, but was quite aware of all these games: he was an old and experienced detective who knew the seamy underside of life like few others. He should have made commissar long ago both by seniority and by merit, but had not – and therefore took bribes with no qualms. It should be mentioned that corruption was a hallowed tradition of the Umbar Police (both colleagues and honest citizens treated a policeman or a customs officer who would not be bribed with cautious suspicion: “Better not turn your back on this guy”), but unlike some of his colleagues Vaddari always delivered the services purchased and never blamed circumstances beyond his control.

“Mister Secretary, your people were looking for a certain Tangorn when suddenly the search was called off yesterday. Are you still interested in this man?”

Marandil leaned forward cautiously: “Well … I suppose I am.”

“I’m prepared to tell you exactly where he’s going to be tonight, if we agree on the price.”

“May I ask where the information comes from?”

“You may. He sent me a letter with a meeting proposal.”

“So why did you decide to sell out a potential client?”

“I haven’t even considered that. It’s just that he hasn’t listed secrecy as one of the conditions of the meeting, so I’m strictly following the letter of the agreement. If this Tangorn doesn’t foresee such a possibility, then I don’t want to deal with such a fool.”

“Hmm … So how much do you want?”

“Three dungans.”

“What?! Are you freaking nuts, man? Like, totally disconnected from reality?”

“My job is to offer …”

“You should know that I really don’t give a crap about this whole business!”

“Who’re you kidding, buddy? I’m an operative, not a mark! First you turn the city upside down for a day and a half looking for this dude, and then – so sorry, there’s been a mix-up! An idiot would know that some other outfit is looking for him now, and the police’s been sidelined. So I’ll have to figure out myself who these other folks are, while time’s a-wasting!”

“All right – two!”

“I said three and I meant three; I ain’t a peanut seller. Quit haggling already, it’s not like you’re paying with your own money!”

“All right, whatever. Two now and the third when we take him on your info.”

“’Whatever’ is right – I tell you when and where, the rest is your problem. All three right now.”

“What if you’re cheating me?”

“Listen, we’re adults in business, no? I’m not some wino offering you a pirate treasure map for a bottle, am I?”

Having pocketed the coins, Vaddari laid out the set-up:

“Know Castamir Square?”

“The one with a lake in the middle and three canals opening into it?”

“The same. The lake is round, a hundred fifty yards across; the canals open into it a hundred twenty degrees apart – counting from the rostral columns, at twelve, four, and eight o’clock. The embankment isn’t unbroken – there are stairways down to the waterline, two between each pair of canals, that makes six. Seven in the evening I must be at the stairs to the right of the eight o’clock canal, dressed in a scarlet cape and a hat with black plumage. A water taxi will arrive by one of the canals; the gondolier will let me board after seeing those signs and will then follow my directions. I’m supposed to cruise from stair to stair, not one after the other, but rather crossing the lake: seven o’clock, eleven, three, and so on. Get it?”

“Yes, quite.”

“There’s almost no traffic on the lake at that time of day; if any other gondolas show up, I’m supposed to park and wait until they leave. Tangorn will come down one of the stairs once he’s sure that there’s no danger, and board my gondola. He will be in make-up and disguise and I will know him when he takes out a purple kerchief and waves it twice. That’s it. Good luck, Secretary, and good evening.”

Vaddari got up and headed out of the coffeehouse where they have met, thinking in passing that he’d bet his life on Tangorn making fools of these guys.

The captain returned to the embassy and filled out a field agent expense report first thing: 4 (four) dungans. He was tempted to put in five, but restrained himself: greed kills, while a birdie pecks a little here and there and is satisfied. So, should he raise the Dol Amroth pennant and hand Tangorn to that cutthroat from the capital on a silver platter? Like hell, he suddenly decided. Such opportunities come up but once in a lifetime; I’ll capture him myself, and the winner is always right. He remembered Mongoose’s eyes and shivered: maybe he should play it safe? Then he calmed himself: no, this is a sure thing. I have the time and place of the meeting, I have thirty-two operatives and five hours to prepare – the Sun-faced Demiurge of the Aritanians supposedly managed to create the entire Arda in five hours, complete with fish in the water, birds in the air, beasts on the ground, dragons in the earthfire, and man with all his disgusting habits …