Chapter 7
297 Words
Chapter 7
Mu Heng banged the top of the small television that sat in the corner of his desk, attempting to get the picture back. It had been steadily getting worse for the past few weeks and had finally died. He eventually gave up and switched it off; slumping back into his chair. Heng checked his watch: 2.37am.
Where the hell was the team?
Patience was not one of his better qualities and the waiting had been going on for months. This had to rank as one of the most boring cover jobs he had ever been assigned, although at least the booth was quiet, he supposed. It was the slow passage of time that got to him. Still, at least now the waiting would soon be over.
Tonight was the night it would finally start to happen.
He flipped through the Hong Kong Times and then lifting his stocky figure up, walked outside the booth and lit another cigarette. Heng then paced up and down on the shiny tiled floor of the Kennedy Town Mass Transit Railway station, brushing imaginary dust off his grey uniform.
The shrill ring of the phone punctured the silence and he quickly picked it up and heard a low, rasping voice.
“Package is here, waiting.”
“OK! On my way,” said Heng. He slammed down the phone, grabbed a bunch of keys, his walkie-talkie and then made his way out of the booth and along the platform in the stark, artificial light.
Heng slid the metal gate linking the platform to the exit tunnel aside, where three grim looking Chinese men, each carrying heavy duty holdall bags, stood waiting. The man in the middle – with the arched scar – nodded and, without a word, they followed Heng back across the platform towards the booth, their footsteps echoing behind them.
- Writer
