Killing Rain
“He was sleeping with the aid of a black eyeshade when his cell phone rang on the bed stand next to him. He sat up instantly, pulled off the eyeshade, and blinked at the light coming through his bedroom window. He breathed in and out hard and cleared his throat. He had a feeling he knew who might be calling, even though there was no rational reason for his confidence.
He picked up the phone and said, “Hilger.”
“Hello, Mr. Hilger. Our mutual friend gave me your number.”
The voice was soft and assured, lightly Arabic-accented. Hilger smiled. He had been right. It was VBM.
“Good,” Hilger said. “Thank you for calling.”
“This line is secure?” the voice asked.
“Absolutely,” Hilger responded.
The voice stayed oblique anyway. “It seems there was a problem in Manila.”
“Yes, there was,” he responded, staying oblique himself to keep the man comfortable. “Our mutual friend has enemies, as you know.”
“And?”
“The problem has been resolved.” It didn’t feel like a lie because he expected it to be true soon.
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