The Game (Tom Wood) - By Tom Wood Page 0,2

a mugging gone bad. Common enough the world over. He had a folding knife in the pocket of his linen trousers. It was a local weapon, bought from a street vendor not dissimilar to the toothless young watch seller. Not the kind of quality Victor would prefer to work with, but it was well made enough to do the task he’d purchased it for. As long as he could get within arm’s length of Kooi, he could cut any one of several arteries that were protected only by the thin skin of the neck, underarm or inner thigh. A seemingly superficial cut, luckily placed by an aggressive robber, inducing death in minutes before medical help could be reached.

All Victor had to do was get close to Kooi.

The Dutchman continued his exploration of the city, leaving the old town and wandering to the docks where he gazed out at the Mediterranean and the many boats and yachts on its blue waters. He took a seat outside a restaurant with an ocean view, and used his teeth to pick grilled lamb from skewered brochettes and ate aromatic couscous with his fingers. He was slim and in shape but he had a big appetite.

Victor waited nearby for the hour Kooi spent over his meal and followed as his target headed back into the city. He didn’t take the same route back – that would have been too reckless, even for a man as relaxed as Kooi – but he walked in the same direction, taking streets that ran close or parallel to those he had already walked.

Kooi surprised Victor by heading back to the Casbah market. That didn’t fit with his MO of never visiting the same locale twice. The market crowds enabled Victor to close the distance between them and he pictured the rest of the route back to Kooi’s hotel. There were numerous quiet alleys that would present all the opportunity Victor needed to complete the contract. He could get ahead of Kooi easily enough, knowing his ultimate destination, and come at him from the front – just another tourist exploring the wonders of Algiers – maybe sharing a nod of recognition as a couple of guys with similar interests, strangers in a strange land, the kind who could end up friends over a few beers. By the time Kooi realised the man heading in his direction was a killer like himself, he would already be bleeding.

A simple enough job. Dangerous given the target, but uncomplicated.

Victor was surprised again when Kooi led him to the same part of the market square they had been in earlier. He wasn’t exploring any more. He had a purpose. The Dutchman removed the wooden statuette from his shorts and set about swapping it for the one he had rejected previously. The merchant was happy to oblige, especially when Kooi gave him some more money.

‘Hey, mister,’ a familiar voice called.

Victor ignored him, but the toothless young man sidestepped into his path, his arms glinting with watches. Kooi headed off.

‘You buy another watch, mister? For your wife or lady. She like nice watch too, yes?’

Victor shook his head and moved to step around him, losing a couple of metres on Kooi in the process. The local didn’t let him pass.

‘I give you good price. Buy the two, get the one cheap. Good deal. Look, look.’

‘No,’ Victor said. ‘No wife. No lady. No watch. Move.’

But the young guy, buoyed by his earlier success and Victor’s reappearance, didn’t want to understand. He blocked Victor’s path, waving and pointing in turn to the women’s watches that circled his lower wrists and mispronouncing the brands.

‘Please,’ Victor said, trying to get around the guy before he lost Kooi, but not wanting to hurl the seller away and risk the attention such a commotion would create.

Kooi turned around. He caught something in his peripheral vision, or maybe he decided to examine some novelty after all. He eased himself through the crowd, not looking Victor’s way – yet – as he made for a stall.

‘Good price,’ the watch seller said, holding out both arms to block Victor’s attempts to get by. ‘Your lady like you a lot.’ He smiled. ‘You know what I say?’ He puckered his lips and made kissing noises.

‘Okay, okay,’ Victor said. ‘I’ll take that one.’

He reached for his wallet to end the standoff before Kooi noticed, but the Dutchman glanced over when the young trader clapped his hands in celebration at securing a second sale.

Kooi saw Victor.

There was no immediate