The Jumpy Jack in the Box
Chapter 40
Kris Amar popped out of the cardboard box right on schedule at the rear entrance to the hotel. He was dressed to the nines, wearing a dark gray Georgio Armani suit and a white shirt opened at the collar. Overall, he looked like a reincarnated Dracula with a buzz haircut. He was dressed to kill and that was the whole point. It was his signature, Thug suit while working in India. No longer would he play the role of a meek monk pretending to beg for food. He was now the strong, albeit well-dressed, mujahedeen warrior he believed himself to be. Allah Akbar, he thought, everything would soon be resolved to his and his God’s satisfaction.
He registered at the Shangri-la’s front counter using the phony name from his phony Lao passport. He appeared to the clerk as a prosperous, Indian businessman and nothing more. However, when the desk clerk caught a strong whiff of the guest’s cologne, he almost gagged. He suspected the man hadn’t showered in awhile and was using it to cover up body odor. He found it to be extremely offensive to his delicate Thai nose and sensibility. Why were foreigners so uncleanly and uncouth in their toilet or choice of toiletries, he wondered? Yuck, he thought, but didn’t say a word, all-in-all, a very proper, respectful Thai way of doing things. The clerk never believed in the adage about clothes making the man. Only good personal grooming and attention to one’s hygiene were important in his fastidious opinion.
Kris believed hiring the two shady characters to impersonate monks was a clever idea on his part. The ruse had distracted the attention of the guards and moved them away from the bridge long enough for the old man to pass through the checkpoint without a second glance.
The hidden boat would be his means of escape back to Laos where he would be once again untouchable. He laughed at his own ironic joke because that had been his caste and lot in life in India.
He’d slipped a 500 Baht note to the clerk, asking for Dick Avery’s room number. The money was graciously accepted and the information promptly provided. It would be a simple matter to locate Avery. Wu had told him that virtually all his time was divided between the hotel and the mortuary, a short stroll across town.
He planned to take the bastard down, perhaps Albert too. He yet hadn’t made up his mind about Wu’s future or if he had one. He reminded himself to be careful so as not to get any of the bloodletting on his beautiful suit. It was now simply waiting for the right time and place. Amar could be a patient man when circumstances and death required.
He’d lay low for awhile and bide his time, covertly watching his prey go about his business. Albert would e-mail him when everything was a go. It was all down to a matter of exact timing now. Then he’d strike with a merciless vengeance and smite the godless infidel!
He believed the final battle between good and evil, Christianity versus Islam, would soon be played out on the plains of Megiddo and Kris Amar couldn’t wait for the predestined, foretold outcome. Armageddon would secure Mohammed’s teachings and Allah’s glorious supremacy over lesser gods forever.