A rather short briefing

Chapter 7 of the thriller "The Imperative U-turn".

The Imperative U-turn

Chapter 7

The cab stopped in front of hotel Hamilton’s entrance, but Ilayev kept sitting on the comfortable rear seat.

‘Are there any instructions concerning my stay at this hotel?’ Ilayev asked his compatriot in their mother tongue.

‘You’re to stay at your hotel. there’s a good restaurant, a night club and you’re expected to wait patiently for your instructions. that’s all.’ the cab driver answered him in their mother tongue. That was all he could extract from his compatrion, he paid him and got off; while the driver left his seat, got off and unloaded Ilayev’s suitcase and after putting it on the pavement, he mumbled ‘thank you sir’ returned to the cab swithced on its engine and left.

No one came out to carry his suitcase, snd so after a few seconds of hesitation Ilayev carried his suitcase with his right hand and entered the hotel. To his utter surprise he didn’t have to check in or deposit his American passport; he received his room card, and went over to the elevators.

He let his suitcase drop down upon the floor, left his handbag on one of the two armchairs and went down to the restaurant to have lunch.

His first week at the Hamilton hotel passed without any drastic events, he went down to the restaurant three times a day; watched TV drinking vodka, and visited the hotel’s modest night club every night; although he missed terribly his Lusha, he kept away from females and males alike at the hotel’s restaurant and particularl at the hotel’s night club.

At about eight forty five on Saturday morning his operator the embassy’s press attache’ called him.

‘Listen Jake I expect to reach the hotel’s enrance in five minutes time, and I’ll pick you up there and then.’

Ilayev went straight down and as soon as he popped out of the hotel’s entrance a black limousine reached rather fast to the hotel’s entance, and stopped before him; its rear door opened up invitingly, and Ilayev went straight in and shut its rear door after he sat down on its rear bench beside his temporarily operator.

‘So how are you Jake?’ Ivan the press attache’ turned to Ilayev in that arrogant manner of his.

‘I’m fine thanks, but let’s get down to business if you don’t mind.’ The conceited press attache’ was getting on his nerves.

‘Okay,’ the aggrieved press attache’ mumbled coughing a few seconds, and then he added: ‘You’ll check out tomorrow at noontime and move to a rented room...’

‘So that’s it then, and tomorrow is the D day.’ Ilayev added rather indifferently. He was already tired of that hide and seek treatment, he missed his Lushya, and wished to be done with whatever his mission is.

‘That’s right, you’ll have to send a certain person to hell at the right moment… When you’ll be ordered to with a sms, here’s the phone in which you’ll get your order.’ His temporary operator added pompously, as he handed the mobile to Ilayev.

‘You’re not supposed to use that mobile, you’ll just wipe off the sms and leave that mobile behind you before you’ll leave the place.’

‘What are my means, and whom do I’ve to bump off?’ Ilayev wondered perplexed by the lack of proficiency of his operator.

‘Soon after you’ll enter the rented apartment you’ll be instructed by a series of sms notifications.’