The Red Room

Начало книги

Two men await a delivery van. Nameless men. Professionals. Proficient at blending in. The man with the camera — call him Alpha. The man who stands in the camera’s frame is Beta.

A white FedEx minivan appears in the camera’s field of view. It serves as the starting gun. Alpha eases the Nikon onto his chest. Turning away from the Sisli Merkez Mosque, he is jostled by Istanbul tourists posing for the perfect picture. It’s nearing the end of the day. Slanting sunshine slices through the smog, playing across the mosque’s stone dome and adjacent minaret. Hell of a photo.

Beta, looking so much like Alpha they might be mistaken for twins — each in a navy blue knit cap, black leather jacket, blue jeans — sees the camera lower and moves toward the curb. He cradles a canvas messenger bag beneath his right arm.

The van double-parks in front of a pharmacy, its emergency flashers pulsing.

Alpha walks incrementally faster, entering the pharmacy only seconds behind the FedEx deliveryman. His job is to provide cover. Beta opens the van’s panel door and slips inside. After five days of surveillance, they know the delivery kid, always in a hurry, never locks the van in this part of town.

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