Being Inspired, maybe - 105
A picture paints ... well, as many words as you like. For instance:
And, then, the words:
And, then, the words:
Nancy also had a ticket,
but had complicated her situation with Corrigan, so it would be interesting to
see if she could extricate herself without looking like she was going to follow
me to the ferry terminal.
But it was not a deal
breaker if she couldn't get away.
As I came out the front
entrance, a short way down the road was a flurry of flashing lights and a bevy
of policemen, and in amongst them was the man without glasses, gesturing and
protesting his innocents. One of the two
Chinese that had been in the lobby watching him was there, on the side,
observing.
Good. Keith the man without glasses or the Chinese
would be following me. That didn't rule
out someone else I hadn't seen, so I still needed to be careful.
At least I hadn't tried
to conceal where I was going, letting the concierge know, and telling him that
if anyone was looking for me that's where I'd be for the next few hours.
I figure he had to be the first person anyone would go to, after the front desk whom I'd also told if they, whoever
they were, wanted me.
The taxi driver drove
past the group and I could see the man without glasses was fighting a losing
battle. The only good thing about it, he
was providing a very noticeable distraction for me.
When I arrived at the
terminal it was pandemonium.
Organized perhaps but
barely. Buses were arriving every few
minutes dropping off another 50 or so tourists, adding to the throng of about a
thousand all either lining up or waiting on groups for the guide to tell them w
there to go.
The disembarkation area
was about a mile long with terminal buildings for what must be quite a few
boats going out that night.
I went into the first
building I could see and found an office and with the few Chinese words I had, I found myself directed to another office further along.
There my ticket was
taken, a stub ripped off by what seemed to be a harassed officer, then pointed
to the door which exited onto the wharf. I was told the picture of the boat
was the one I was looking for.
Found.
It was behind the office,
so I went up the gangway and onto the boat.
For a cruise vessel, it
was if anything over the top. Marble
staircase, marble floors, and the decor of a palace rather than a cruise vessel.
I went up the staircase
to the middle level, just reaching the floor as a crowd of tourists streamed up
behind me, some almost running. Perhaps
there were vantage points on each of the decks that I didn't know about, but it
seemed they considered the top deck the place to be for best views and those
all-important photographs.
I joined the throng, it
was hard not to be caught up in the surging mass, to the rear of the ship and
a small section of open space, where the throng was reduced to squeezing through
a narrow doorway and I found myself being jostled briefly until I reached the
railing.
Still, the crowds came,
and I realized this was the main way to get to the upper deck. I was surprised the ferry didn't have a staff
member in place to make the process more orderly.
15 minutes later the
vessel cast off, everyone had found somewhere to stand or sit, and the flow of
people going up had been reduced to a trickle more coming back down than going
up.
I took a quick look
myself, and the top deck was filled to capacity with every vantage point taken.
Downstairs again, I
crossed the deck to the VIP room and showed the crew member my ticket, after
which she opened the door and ushered me in.
A lot fewer people in
there, perhaps due to the price of gaining entrance. I ordered a drink then found a seat next to
the window.
By this time, we were
underway, moving out into the middle of the river, heading towards the
Bund. I could see the buildings on the nearest riverbank lit up, colorful enough to keep those around me and
doubtless everywhere else on the boat taking endless photographs.
They didn't notice, and I
had almost not, the arrival of the same two policemen that had been at the
hotel watching the man now without his glasses.
I did a quick scan of the room, trying not to look like I was doing a quick scan of the room, and couldn't see him.
Nor had I seen him
earlier before and during boarding. That
didn't mean he wasn't on board somewhere.
The two policemen seemed
satisfied he was not in the room and went back out again. They had not given me a second look, or
perhaps they were that good. It didn't
matter, they were gone.
When I sat down, there
was another short rotund Chinese man sitting in the seat beside me. I had no idea if this was the man I was sent
to meet, or he just sneaked in while everyone's attention was elsewhere.
I wasn't going to ask.
He didn't speak. He simply sat there, not looking sideways but
just straight ahead at the buildings on the Bund, all lit in what seemed to be
a continuous line of lights.
And then, all of a
sudden, the building lights went out, much to the dismay of all on board, and
those in the room who'd been crowding all the available window space.
Then the lights in the
room went out, and for a few seconds, there was confusion. A minute in darkness, at the most, and the
lights went back on, and the man was gone.
I'd neither seen or heard
him leave. But I did feel a slight bump
and out of curiosity, I checked my jacket pocket.
Something small. Most likely a USB memory stick. The files I'd been sent to pick up.
Now, all I had to do was
get off the boat, back to the hotel, act normal for the next two days, and then
go home, acting as if nothing had happened.
Of course, if this wasn't
China, that might happen. But it was,
and when I looked over at the door leading back to the exit, I saw the two
policemen I'd seen earlier in the hotel escorting what looked to be the man
who'd just been briefly sitting next to me out of the room.
That couldn't be a
coincidence, could it?
© Charles Heath 2020
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