the priest, the local commander was the only other person present, and from the very start of the meeting he had seemed to be sitting on pins and needles. It was hardly surprising, given that Captain Cornwall had arrived with reinforcements and Al-Satar must have been worried that he might be stripped of his command in Bushtabhar. To make matters worse, he was sitting in the citadel tower listening to a heated exchange, the result of which could cost him not just his position, but his head.
Without waiting for a reaction from inside, Rex entered the room with a grim expression. It was clear that something had happened and the news was not good. He quickly crossed the room and leaned in to whisper something in Darius’s ear.
‘We found one of our field agents,’ he began, taking care that no one but his superior heard the message. ‘Unfortunately, he’s dead.’
Darius bit his lip, restraining himself from letting out a few uncensored remarks. I should have expected that nothing would be this simple. He thought bitterly.
‘I’m afraid I must take my leave, gentlemen.’ He rose from his seat. ‘You know where to find me if you need me. I’d be more than happy to help when I have a spare moment.’ He emphasised the last sentence more strongly.
The slum, or at least that’s how Bleist saw it, looked dreadful. Darius had seen all sorts of slums in his time, but he had never come across one so run-down, so devoid of life and so steeped in despair. The main street, or rather the passageway, must have been deserted long ago due to the Guards patrolling it, but from the side alleys, someone was peering out every now and then. Grey or sunburnt faces with sunken cheeks, cracked lips and empty eyes. Emaciated figures shuffling sluggishly in the meagre shade of the few tattered scraps of fabric offering protection from the merciless heat. Even now, with the sun almost set, the place still seemed weighed down by the harsh conditions of the local climate.
