BLOOD DRAGON Freddie Peters (books to get back into reading .TXT) 📖

The bedroom was quiet … no background music. This trip was not a holiday. Although she recognised the need to rest, she also felt she needed to remain alert. Too many people had been hurt or killed for her not to recognise that she was fighting an opponent that would stop at nothing. Getting to the truth about her father’s fate might upset certain people. Trying to get to the truth about what happened to Ollie Wilson had already made waves …

It was gone 10pm on the bathroom clock. Nancy stood up gingerly, wrapped herself in an extra large, ultra soft towel and stepped onto the marble floor. She would order room service and solve the dinner problem that way.

She moved to the spacious bedroom, with its deep carpets and panels of exotic wood on the walls. The sitting area had been built like an extension, jutting out of the room to give access to the splendid views.

Her suitcase was propped open on the folding stand, still not unpacked. She rummaged through it and found a light shantung top and trousers she slipped into. She yawned, the time lag was beginning to catch up with her.

She placed her order of chicken Caesar salad and tea – something very few hotels managed to do badly – and started unpacking. She just needed to stay awake until she had eaten her dinner.

A soft rattle of the door made her stop. She consulted the alarm clock on the bedside table … less than 15 minutes … this seemed very quick, but then again it was the Mandarin Oriental, the most luxurious hotel in Hong Kong. She moved swiftly towards the door and was about to speak when she froze. The soft noise she had heard was not that of a trolley being arranged, but that of the door handle being moved gently up and down.

She ran to the door, and slid the chain bolt into its track. Nancy looked through the security peephole and saw a man was standing at the door … middle aged, bald, with dry leathery skin … Chinese.

Nancy looked around for a weapon. There were a few glass bottles in the minibar fridge, but she doubted there would be enough to stop a determined assailant. She ran back into the main room, grabbed her mobile. Only five per cent of her battery left, she cursed. Why had she not started charging it earlier?

She ran back to the door. The handle moved again. She called reception.

“This is room 578 … someone is at my door, trying to break in.”

The receptionist did not ask her to repeat herself. The usual pleasant hello was replaced by a focused security is on its way.

Nancy dropped her mobile into her pocket, was about to dash back to the bedroom and grab the letter opener … an accessory she thought no hotel room would ever bother with. The door opened as she was running back to it, only restrained by the chain she had secured a few moments earlier.

A small, yet muscly hand was moving up the wooden panel, feeling for the bolt at the end of the chain. Nancy braced herself and, with as much strength as she could muster, stabbed the fingers that were exploring the door.

The man yelped and withdrew his hand immediately.

She tried to slam the door shut again with her shoulder, but a metal object had been moved between the door and its frame.

The man pushed as hard as he could, trying to yank the door open.

The sound of a body slamming against the wood made Nancy brace herself even harder.

The assailant had abandoned his subtle approach. He was now simply throwing his body against the door in an attempt to break the security chain.

Nancy braced herself against the door once more. Her body shook at his second attempt. The chain groaned as the screws fastening the sliding track almost gave way. Another thrust against the door and the chain would come loose.

* * *

Since his motorbike ride, Andy had been firing on all cylinders. He had delegated the review of the hospital CCTV footage to a new promising recruit. Mandy had impressed him with her IT expertise, and tracing an individual was exactly what she needed to hone her skills. The hospital had been a little reluctant, but the supervisor Mandy had spoken to had been much more amenable when she mentioned the Ollie Wilson case. It was attempted murder and the person that had committed this terrible act might still be in the hospital, possibly disguised as a nurse.

Andy gave Mandy an approving nod … Well put.

He sat up and poked his head over his computer screen. “How are you getting on?”

“I’ve traced the nurse we’ve been talking about. She entered the lift on the floor above the one on which Ollie Wilson’s room is situated. I’m following her out of the hospital and into the underground. So far so good.”

“And after that you’ll check where she came from?”

Mandy frowned. “Really? I would never have thought of it.”

“Right … yeah … course, you got it.”

Andy delved back into his own work. Tracking down the working group that had suggested the liberalisation of opium production in Afghanistan. Andy had broadened his search to the US and a name had cropped up that Pole would be very interested in. Jared Turner Senior had chaired a committee there until it had been dismantled in 2012.

The report they had requested had been critical. The conclusion was that if the opium production in Afghanistan was sold to legal drug producers, it would inevitably increase the cultivation of opium poppies and push the price up. The Afghan government did not have the means to police the entire territory and control the crops. The Taliban warlords were in power, and this was not likely to change any time soon.

Andy was awaiting information from Interpol on Turner Senior. His colleagues there had assured him he would receive a swift reply. He