Wind in the Hands
Chapter 12 The Tower
After the conversation with his friend, the Seer sat down in the armchair and started to tune onto the Stranger’s image trying to locate him but could not. He was either anxious, such tasks required complete confidence in own power, or the Stranger was closed, and that could happen, although rarely. The Seer easily tuned on the image of his friend and now just had to look where she was.
He saw lifts, glass doors, a bar, and rooms. “They are in a hotel. Could have guessed at once,” the Seer complained. He called the servant and in a couple of minutes had a printout with all nearest hotels. There were only six hotels in the list. The Seer circled the Tower and called his acquaintance.
“Good afternoon. I know where they are. Can you dispatch your people to the Tower hotel?”
“Good afternoon, my friend,” the Functionary started to peak hesitantly. “You see, it has become a bit complicated. We’ve found the fingerprints of the man who made a performance at the railway station. They belong to an officer of the General Army Headquarters. By the way, he is one of the best and a very distinguished man. We cannot impose administrative arrest; our authority does not apply to the people of this level. If he has a criminal record, you can call the police and they will take care of him.”
“I see. I’m not interested in that one, I want the other man.”
“The one with a beard?” the Functionary asked to be sure.
“Yes. I need him. If possible, detain him, but I repeat, do it gently,” the Seer emphasized the last word.
“Ok. We can detain him. He is not connected with government authorities, is he? Or maybe I don’t have some information?”
“No, he isn’t. He can be related to some authorities higher than the government ones,” the Seer answered gloomily.
“With whom? Oh, I see…” the Functionary sounded ironic. “I don’t care about this. I’m sending my people to the Tower.”
The Seer pressed the cancel button without bidding goodbye, irritated.
“Oh, you look nice. I’ve thought you are older,” the Medium said admiring the Stranger.
“I’ll be old again soon. Let’s go, have a look at the Soldier,” the Stranger touched his smooth cheeks with his hands. He left some hair on his chin and above the upper lip and made his hair in a braid.
They went down and could hardly recognize their comrade: a cultural dark-haired man was looking at them through spectacles.
“You haven’t changed your boots,” the Stranger pointed at his footwear.
“Have you recognized me at once?” the Soldier asked dissatisfied.
“Recognition does not necessarily imply seeing with your eyes, feeling is enough,” the Stranger stated and added, “you have excellently changed your appearance.”
“But you don’t look like a law-abiding citizen anyway, you smell of blood and death,” the Medium said scornfully.
“My dear lady, could you be as kind as to do me a favor?” the Soldier addressed the woman. He did not like it when he was reminded of his work and all the more so, when he was judged.
She nodded and said smiling:
“It seems like this phrase is the most difficult in transformation. I’m all ears, my gallant knight.”
He said slowly and harshly looking in her eyes:
“Fuck you, stinking witch…”
The woman’s eyes filled with rage. She made fists and stepped towards the grinning Soldier.
The Stranger caught her hands.
“Stay calm,” he whispered. “Do not be hurt. You have insulted him. And you are wrong. There would be more evil without the ones of his kind. You know nothing about him.”
“Fuck you all!” she broke away from him and almost ran to the exit.
The Soldier made a false remorse grimace and looked at the Stranger.
The Medium almost ran into a man in sports clothes at the main entrance. He was followed by two more people wearing official suits. One of them silently approached the headwaiter sitting at the table, showed his ID, and took out a photograph from his pocket. The Medium halted. Her face became tense and attentive.
The Soldier gave the Stranger a packet of cigarettes and said under his breath:
“Stay calm. They can’t see us yet. Hope this bitch will not betray us. Take a cigarette.”
“I don’t smoke. Look here’s a Don’t Smoke sign,” the Stranger said impassively.
“Right. I’ll quit soon. Do take it. I know what I’m talking about.”
“Gentlemen,” they heard a hotel employee say. “Smoking is prohibited here. Go outside.”
“Oh, sorry, we didn’t mean that! We will go in the open air,” the Soldier apologized and whispered, “when you are passing the agents, breathe out more smoke. Come.”
A security agent was closely watching the Stranger.
“Wait! Come up to me!”
“Don’t turn around, go on. Hail a taxi and leave fast. I’ll call you. I’ll handle them.”
The Soldier slowly approached the agent.
“Sorry, what’s the problem? What do you want?”
“I am not after you. Call your friend.”
“I know him!” the Medium exclaimed suddenly pointing her long finger at the photograph, which the man in the suit was showing to hotel guests. “This is my fiancé. Where have you taken his photograph?”
“Oh, yes,” the hotel employee confirmed. “This woman with the man in the photo checked-in last evening.”
“Where is he now?” the agent asked coarsely.
“In our room taking a bath,” the Medium answered and looked at the Soldier.
“What is the room number?” the security employee snapped.
“I’m not going to tell you that,” the woman showed her deepest scorn in the phrase. “Wait half an hour until he goes downstairs.”
“Room number!” the agent croaked piercing the hotel administrator with his stare.
“Just a moment. Room`s number forty,” the hotel employee chummed.
“Keys, hurry up!” the agent stretched his hand towards the woman.
The Medium showed a vulgar sign demonstrating her rude refusal to obey.
“Stay with her!” the agent shouted to his companion and ran to fetch a reserve key the hotel administrator gave him. “You, come with me!” he told the guy wearing a sports uniform and then turned to the woman, “and you, slut, wait until I come back.”
The Medium looked up at the Soldier and showed him an equally rude gesture to get lost.
But he would not.
“What a beautiful woman!” the Soldier exclaimed and went towards her. He came level with the security officer glancing at the woman, went around him, and sharply hit him on the neck with a fist. He instantaneously turned the agent around and hit him in the groin with the knee. The Agent bent moaned tunelessly wide-eyed and fell onto the floor shuddering with pain. The Medium looked up at the Soldier satisfied. He took her hand and ran to the exit.
The Stranger was waiting for them at the hotel.
“Why haven’t you left?” the Soldier asked him when they were driving away in the car.
“I knew you would be out soon.”
“And your girlfriend did a good job. Excellent performance.”
“I’m not his girlfriend,” the Medium said gruffly.
“We know whose girlfriend you are. No pass,” the Soldier grinned. “But you really did a good job. You haven’t lost your composure. By the way, Stranger, she called you her fiancé. A nice couple you are: he with a white glow and she in the dark mist. A paradox.”