Are you, now? So whens your first official meeting?
Things are being arranged.
What sorts of things?
I dont know. Mr. Ainhs handling the details, and
Mr. Ainh? You dont mean your tour guide? He burst out laughing.
Just why is that so funny? she demanded.
Youre right, Guy said, swallowing
his laughter. Its not funny. Its pathetic. Do you want an advance look in my crystal ball? Because I can tell you exactly whats going to happen. First thing in the morning, your guide will show up with an apologetic look on his face.
Why apologetic?
Because hell tell you the ministry is closed for the day. After all, its the grand and glorious holiday of July 18.
Holiday? What holiday?
Never mind. Hell make something up. Then hell ask if you wouldnt rather see the lacquer factory, where you can buy many beautiful gifts to bring home
Now she was laughing. Those were, in fact, Mr. Ainhs exact words.
Then, the following day, hell come up with some other reason you cant visit the ministry. Say, theyre all sick with the swine flu or theres a critical shortage of pencil erasers. Butyou can visit the National Palace!
She stopped laughing. I think Im beginning to get your point.
Its not that the mans deliberately sabotaging your plans. He simply knows how hopeless it is to untangle this bureaucracy. All he wants is to do his own little job, which is to be a tour guide and file innocuous reports about the nice lady tourist. Dont expect more from him. The poor guy isnt paid enough for what he already does.
Im not helpless. I can always start knocking on a few doors myself.
Yeah, but which doors? And where are they hidden? And do you know the secret password?
Guy, youre making this country sound like a carnival funhouse.
Fun is not the operative word here.
What is the operative word?
Chaos. He pointed down at the street, where pedestrians and bicycles swarmed in mass anarchy. See that? Thats how this government works. Its every man for himself. Ministries competing with ministries, provinces with provinces. Every minor official protecting his own turf. Everyone scared to move an inch without a nod from the powers that be. He shook his head. Not a system for the faint of heart.
Thats one thing Ive never been.
Wait till youve been sitting in some sweatbox of a reception area for five hours. And your belly hurts from the bad water. And the closest bathroom is a hole in the
I get the picture.
Do you?
What are you suggesting I do?
Smiling, he sat back. Hang around with me. I have a contact here and there. Not in the Foreign Ministry, I admit, but they might be able to help you.
He wants something, she thought. What is it? Though his gaze was unflinching, she sensed a new tension in his posture, saw in his eyes the anticipation rippling beneath the surface.
Youre being awfully helpful. Why?
He shrugged. Why not?
Thats hardly an answer.
Maybe at heart Im still the Boy Scout helping old ladies cross the street. Maybe Im a nice guy.
Maybe you could tell me the truth.
Have you always had this problem trusting men?
Yes, and dont change the subject.
For a moment, he didnt speak. He sat drumming his fingers against the beer bottle. Okay, he admitted. So I fibbed a little. I was never a Boy Scout. But I meant it about helping you out. The offer stands.
She didnt say a thing. For Guy, that silence, that look of skepticism, said it all. The woman didnt trust him. But why not, when hed sounded his most sincere? He wondered what had made her so mistrustful. Too many hard knocks in life? Too many men whod lied to her?
Well, watch out, baby, cause this ones no different, he thought with a twinge of self-disgust.
He just as quickly shook off the feeling. The stakes were too high to be developing a conscience. Especially at his age.
Now hed have to tell another lie. Hed been lying a lot lately. It didnt get any easier.
Youre right, he said. Im not doing this out of the kindness of my heart.
She didnt look surprised. That annoyed him. What do you expect in return? she asked, her eyes hard on his. Money? She paused. Sex?
That last word, flung out so matter-of-factly, made his belly do a tiny loop-the-loop. Not that he hadnt already thought about that particular subject. Hed thought about it a lot ever since hed met her. And now that she was sitting only a few feet away, watching him with those unyielding eyes, he was having trouble keeping certain images out of his head. Briefly he considered the possibility of throwing a little sex into the deal, but he just as quickly discarded the idea. He felt low enough as it was.
He calmly reached for the Heineken. The frostiness had gone out of the bottle. No, he said. Sex isnt part of the bargain.
I see. She bit her lip. Then its money.
He gave a nod.
I think
you should know that I dont have any. Not for you, anyway.
Its not your money Im after.
Then whose?
He paused, willing his expression to remain bland. His voice dropped to a murmur. Have you ever heard of the Ariel Group?
Never.
Neither had I. Until two weeks ago, when I was contacted by two of their representatives. Theyre a veterans organization, dedicated to bringing our MIAs homealive. Even if it means launching a Rambo operation.