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.Steel cleaning rods and small white cotton cleaning patches were spread out neatly on the sports page of a Thai language newspaper.Beside the paper were his gun-cleaning kit and a can of gun conditioner oil.And five bullets.He would occasionally hold the revolver up to the ceiling’s old-fashioned circular fluorescent light and check the barrel or cylinder for any buildup of debris or sign of rust.Regardless of what he saw, he would replace the patch with a clean one, sparingly spotted with oil, and clean again.A friend of his who had been a monk for years had told him that what he was doing wasn’t really cleaning the gun, that for him it had become a meditative experience.The big man had liked the phrase and remembered it.The knock on the door was tentative and soft.The man continued to clean.His voice was rasping and gruff, he figured from the years when he still smoked.“Yeah.”After a pause, the knock came again.Only slightly louder.“Yeah!”The door opened slowly and a thin, young Thai man entered cautiously.He was in his early to mid-twenties and wore an expensive street jacket over a long-sleeved shirt and well pressed trousers.His leather shoes looked as if they’d been spit-shined.His complexion was several shades whiter than that of the big man.He attempted to affect a cocky exterior but his nervousness was obvious.He stared at the big man for several seconds and then closed the door and looked around the room.“You left the door unlocked?”“If you say so.”“What if it had been him?”For the first time the man in the chair glanced up to look at the boy.Then he continued cleaning his weapon.“Him?”“The guy we’ve been hired to hit.He’s a legend!”“Legends die, kid.Like anything else.”“But he might have come here early and—”“And what?” For a few seconds the man stopped cleaning and locked eyes with the boy.Then he resumed cleaning.“Don’t worry, kid, he’s known to be punctual.”The boy hesitated and then walked to the man and held out his hand.The man ignored it.“I’m Sombat Ti—”“Don’t tell me your name.Don’t ever tell me your name.How long you been in this business?”“Uh… Lo-long time…”“So how long you been here?”“A while.Wichai hire you?”“Yeah, Wichai.”“What’d he tell you?”“About what?”“About the hit!”“Just that the guy does what we do.And that he’s the best.”“What do we do?”The boy threw his shoulders back and began strutting as he spoke.“You know.Eliminate obstacles for people.Settle disputes.Solve problems.Permanently… Like when I did the Kaeochart hit.”“You did the Kaeochart hit?”“Yeah, I did the hit.You heard about it, huh?”“Kid, everybody in the business has heard about the Kaeochart hit.Right in the middle of Lumpini Park.I heard the shooter got off the motorcycle, brushed past the guy’s bodyguards, shot his target, walked casually back to his bike and took off.He was staring at them the whole time.Bodyguards were too scared to react.”“Yeah.Yeah, that’s the way it was.Cool and daring.” The boy stopped to preen himself a bit in the mirror and stared at the big man’s reflection.“But the guy we’re waiting for pissed Wichai off.”“That right?”“Yeah.I don’t know what.But if Wichai wants him dead, he must have fucked up big time.So Wichai wants it done and done right.That’s why he sent me.” The boy checked his watch.He suddenly spotted the clothes on the TV set.He held up the towel.“What’s with the clothes and towel? … Oh.That’s good.That’s really good.”“What’s good, kid?”“I can see from the way you’re cleaning your gun.You value cleanliness.So you brought clean clothes, just in case you get blood on what you’re wearing.”The big man stared at the boy and said nothing.“Or maybe it’s like a spiritual thing.You change clothes after a hit and throw away the old clothes.Shed the old skin.Start out fresh.Right?”The big man took another hit of Mekong.“If I were you, I’d clean my weapon.”The boy reached inside his jacket and, not without difficulty, pulled out a semi-automatic.“Don’t worry.Mine is always clean.” He popped out the clip and then slid it back in.“And ready.”“It better be.This guy is the best there is.Like you said, a legend.”The boy replaced his gun in his shoulder holster inside his jacket.“Yeah? So how come I didn’t recognize him in the picture Manny showed me?”“Kid, when you’re recognized in this business, you’re dead.And I doubt the legend ever allowed any recent photo to be taken.”The boy continued to walk about.“What a dump.Whose apartment is this, anyway?”“I couldn’t tell you, kid.It’s safe enough for the hit.That’s all we need to know.”“Well, I know he thinks he’s coming here for a meeting.Wichai told him it’s a meeting to plan a hit.” The boy slammed his fist into his palm.“Hah! But what he doesn’t know is he’s the target.We’re the hitters and he’s the hittee! This should be fun.”The big man gave him a look, saying nothing.The boy looked at his watch.“Shouldn’t he be here by now?”“He’ll be here.And shouldn’t you be sitting down somewhere by now?”The boy walked toward the man and stopped just a foot away.His hand reached out near the man’s gun.“Hey! Tha—”The big man quickly and expertly moved behind the boy, throwing one arm around his neck and holding a knife at his throat.“I… I was only going to say Ampol won at Lumpini again.It’s… it’s there.In your newspaper.I mean, motherfucker, he’s practically an old man and he’s still fighting.”The man looked toward the newspaper and understood his mistake.In his day Ampol had been one of the best Muay Thai fighters he had ever fought.It was Ampol’s incredibly fast mid-air elbow strike which had scarred his face and dropped him.One of the big man’s few defeats in the ring.He released the boy, replaced his knife in his belt and sat down.He reached into his gun kit and withdrew a silicone gun cloth.He began wiping down his revolver.“Sorry, kid.I thought… You know.”The boy stared at the big man.“That hurt! We’re on the same side, right?”“You been in this business a long time, right?”“Yeah, that’s right.”“Lots of hits, right?”“Yeah.That’s right.”“So how come you talk so much?”The boy stared at the man, his expression a cross between shame and anger, and sat down on the sofa.“.How come you still use a revolver? You only get five shots with what you got.”“Had a semi-automatic jam on me once.Almost got me killed.”“I got thirteen rounds.And one in the chamber.”“Doesn’t matter how many rounds you got if your weapon jams.You’re dead.You die because you’re semi jams, you’ll end up the wrong kind of legend.”“Don’t worry about me.I’m gonna be the right kind of legend.The biggest there ever was.I’m gonna be the best! A guy’s name is what counts, and people are gonna say my name with respect.”The boy pointed his finger toward the room’s only floor lamp and pretended to fire.“Bad-ass, huh?”“Damn right!”“And you’ll get top dollar?”“Fuckin’ A!”The boy took out a pack of cigarettes, placed one between his lips and struck a match.“This is a no-smoking area [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]