Mike Dixon

He ran into the kitchen and pulled the pan from the
flames. The meat had begun to stick but a dash of vinegar
solved that problem. He added garam masala and reached
for the tamarind paste. In the other room, Kirstin and Janet
were talking. He had wondered how his mother would take
to Janet. Now he knew. They had struck up an immediate
and vibrant relationship.
„What weapons do you carry?‟ Kirstin asked.
„I‟m not working for them any more,‟ Janet replied. „I got
the push – like Humphrey.‟
„Well. What weapons did you carry?‟
„We were issued with a standard regulation snub nose pistol.
It has its good points but isn‟t much use in close-up
work. It‟s far too difficult to conceal – particularly when
you‟re close to a guy.‟
Kirstin gave a deep, throaty laugh that Humphrey had
never heard before. „In my day they issued us with a tiny
little thing. They were obsessed by the thought we‟d be violated.
It was of a size that would fit into the smallest hand-
bag. I wore my Elvis gear when I went out on assignments
…‟
Humphrey could scarcely believe his ears. He‟d added too
much chili and was trying to remove it when Kirstin subject-
ed him to a further shock.
„I used to hang out in the Hong Kong Bar of the Common-
wealth Hotel. I was assigned to Chinese businessmen. I sat
there for hours, sipping orange juice, listening to their conversations.‟
„Was that during the Vietnam War?‟
„More in the aftermath of the Korean War …‟
Humphrey poured two glasses of beer and took them to
where the two women were sitting. He placed one in front of
Janet then confronted his mother.
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