Charliee

Chapter 5

The hotel room where Charliee had arranged to meet her contact was small, well decorated, and clearly failing. Outside there were countless places where maintenance had been neglected. Paint was peeling in sizable patches, the glass doors creaked as they slid aside and at least one of the automated cameras had long since stopped moving. Thomas wondered if they were connected, and if they were, if anyone was actually being paid to watch the footage they recorded.
Charliee drove the pair of them around the building twice, then brought the car to a stop in front of an employee entrance, with the engine running. A small crate held the door open, left over from someone’s cigarette break. Thomas pulled out a pair of sunglasses the previous owner had left in the glove box of the convertible and put them on. Meanwhile, Charliee was fiddling with two mobiles that she had produced from her backpack.
‘When you meet him,’ she said, handing him the first phone, ‘you’ll have to decide what to do. If he gives you the codes we need, you tell him speed-dial 5. That will transfer the amount we agreed on to him.’
‘If…,’ Thomas repeated. ‘What if he doesn’t give us the codes?’
‘Speed-dial 7,’ she said calmly. ‘It launches a program that wipes the sim. No sim, no money.’ Thomas wondered what the stranger’s reaction might be to something like that.
‘What about the other one,’ Thomas asked, indicating to the second phone.
‘That’s for me to communicate with you. No one else has the number. Are you ready?’ Charliee was looking at him intently now, focused. ‘You can still walk away.’ Thomas knew one more appeal like that and he might just change his mind. Instead he pushed those thoughts from his mind and opened the door. ‘I’ll be waiting for you then,’ Charliee said as she watched him walk away.
It was only a few feet from the car to the door, just long enough to glace down the deserted street. Only one other car was parked there: a black four-wheel-drive, with no plates.
Inside, Thomas went up to the counter and repeated the name Charliee had given him. He was asked to wait while a phone call was made and his description given into the receiver. Finally he was waved up to the 7th floor, third door on the right. Stepping out of the elevator, the hotel seemed even more run-down than it had appeared from outside. Thomas considered how much longer they would be in business when he reached the third door on the right. He knocked once, and the door opened immediately.
The room inside was hot, with the heat going and no windows or curtains open. The man who had opened the door wore a heavy suit, which contradicted the temperature in the room and set Thomas on edge. His attention was called away by another man who was sitting in the only chair in room, drinking scotch from one of the small bottles in the mini-fridge.
‘Greetings,’ called the scotch-drinker. He stood and crossed the room to where Thomas was standing. He was thin and unthreatening, and seemed at odds with the image Thomas had in his mind.
‘Carlisle?’ Thomas asked. He heard the door closing behind him and glanced over to see the suited man standing in front of it.
‘That’s right,’ the thin man answered. He reached out a hand towards Thomas. ‘And you are?’
Thomas hadn’t prepared for this. ‘James,’ he answered, immediately feeling foolish. He reached out his hand too.
‘Bond, I assume.’ Carlisle smiled as they shook hands. ‘I also assume Charliee sent you.’
‘How did you…’ Thomas started, but Carlisle waved him down.
‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘I’m probably the only other person right now who knows her by that name. From what I hear, it changes quite often. I don’t even think Lucien knows what her real name is.
In any case,’ he continued, turning back towards the mini-fridge, ‘you needn’t worry. This won’t take long.’
Thomas doubted whether a speedy resolution would be a comfort if things were to go badly. He said nothing as Carlisle reached down towards the fridge, the unfinished scotch still in his left hand. After a moment he returned holding a laptop, though Thomas hadn’t seen where it had come from.
‘Here you are, James.’ Thomas flinched at the name but Carlisle didn’t seem to notice. ‘The codes, as we discussed, are on the hard drive. Go ahead: you can confirm it for yourself.’
Thomas put the laptop down on the bed and opened the lid. In front of him was a series of codes, the ones Charliee needed to send her money around the world, to be cleaned through countless transactions. He was keenly aware of Carlisle’s gaze at the back of his head.
‘Now, you have something for me?’ Thomas heard him say.
Thomas reached into his pocket and pulled out the phone. Carlisle’s eyes caught it immediately.
‘Yes,’ he said, ‘that would be it.’
For the first time since Thomas had entered, Carlisle put the small bottle of scotch down onto the small, worn-out desk.

‘Now then,’ Carlisle was saying, ‘the number?’
Thomas closed the laptop. ‘Speed-dial… 5,’ Thomas finally breathed. The suited man was watching at him with his arms crossed. He seemed to grow bigger each time he drew air. Thomas heard a small chime from the phone and a Carlisle let out a satisfied chuckle. ‘Ok,’ he mused, and then to the suited man, ‘You can let him go.’
The man waited a moment, as if disappointed, then moved to one side. He didn’t seem interested in opening the door for Thomas this time. Content with dispensing of the pleasantries, Thomas was about to let himself out when the mobile in his pocket beeped loudly.
Thomas was still standing at the door to the third room on the 7th floor when he heard Charliee’s voice over the speaker:
“He found us!”