do you have in there?” The harbormaster’s curiosity overcame his manners, a glint of suspicion lighting his eyes from behind the thick-rimmed glasses.
“I can tell you,” Sadiq answered between labored breaths, “but you have to promise me you won’t say a word to anyone.”
“I promise,” the Harbormaster said. He wasn’t smiling anymore.
“Well, you see, I am a Muslim,” Sadiq started to say. “By the holy letter of the Quran, this,” he pointed to the cooler, “is the mother of evil.”
The Harbormaster’s eyebrows raised in surprise. They had made it next to the Sea Ray, and Sadiq took his fishing gear on board, then came back to the cooler. He lifted the lid and extracted a can of Bud Light from the ice inside, offering it to the harbormaster.
“Beer?”
“My sin, for which Islam fanatics would have me killed. Please do not tell a soul,” Sadiq said pleadingly.
“Don’t worry, Mr. Sadiq,” the Harbormaster said, relieved, popping the can open and taking a long, thirsty gulp. “Your secret is safe with me.”
Judging by the Harbormaster’s demeanor, he seemed to like him better once he had learned of his sin. It was a helpful cover to have. His plan had worked quite well; he was pleased.
Finally on board the Sea Ray, engines running smoothly, Sadiq pushed the throttle gently, leaving the harbor at no wake speed. Once outside the harbor, he programmed his GPS to take him to the Bahamas and pushed the throttle almost 80% in. The Sea Ray cut the waves majestically, leaving the shore behind, and within minutes Sadiq was far enough from the shore to lose sight of it completely.
He put the throttle in neutral and cut the engines. He then dragged the cooler towards the edge of the boat, opened it, and started opening cans of beer and spilling the contents into the ocean. After emptying a few, he crushed them somewhat, just as a beer drinker would when finishing one. He set the crushed cans next to the cooler. Then threw overboard the rest of the unopened cans and all the remaining ice. He wiped the cooler dry, carefully with one of the towels he had brought on board. He closed the cooler lid, then resumed his high speed trip to the Bahamas. He would make it there on time, he thought, after checking his watch. The bank would still be open, even if it was a Saturday.
...63
...Monday, July 25, 9:12AM Local Time (UTC+5:30 hours)
...ERamSys Headquarters
...New Delhi, India
Pranav had somehow managed to drive Alex to her destination without having them both killed, and she was grateful for that. She wasn’t very sure his English included more than a few words, because his reaction to her firm demands to slow down was to hit the gas, smiling widely and repeating, “Yes, ma’am, yes, ma’am.”
She looked at the building before entering, the morning air still hot and humid, yet somehow more bearable than it had been the day before. The building was modern, six stories of metal and glass structures built as two separate sections and united by a central tower that went up eight stories high. All three sections of the building had some activity happening on their flat roofs, people walking, looking down, using them as terraces to sit and relax, or places where they could smoke. The central section seemed to have trees planted on the roof.
There wasn’t much green in New Delhi. Vegetation was rare, and trees were scarce, at least in the areas where she had traveled. Everything was concrete and asphalt, radiating in the scorching heat. The sun was there, but then again, it wasn’t. A layer of thick yellow smog covered every inch of the sky even when it was clear, and the sun appeared as a dim yellow disc that she could look straight into without even squinting. She extended her arm and looked at the pavement. No, there was no real shadow in this dimmed sunlight, just a trace of it. She suddenly felt better about having to take her car for SMOG checks every two years.
She entered the building, the strong AC in the lobby making her dizzy for a few seconds until she adjusted. She was getting used to these shocks, coming indoors from the intense heat and going through a fifty degrees drop in temperature just by opening a door.
In the lobby was a small blackboard displaying ‘Welcome Alex Hoffmann’ written in green chalk. She asked the receptionist for directions, and she learned that DCBI had their own