Calypso Directive by Brian Andrews

symbol in hand. Every hour, on the hour, the twelve apostles parade in succession through two wooden doors that open above the upper clock dial—six apostles walking from the right, six from the left.
    It took Will a moment of study before he could decipher the complicated clock dial. Eventually he ascertained the time: 1:57 AM. He looked from side to side, scanning the area for a five-foot-five, hardly inconspicuous blonde. Not finding her, he wandered over toward a darkened restaurant, Café Milena, which was directly opposite the Orloj. He took a seat at one of the many empty chairs left outside by the evening manager.
    It was amazing. Even at the late hour, people still congregated, waiting to watch the Walk of the Apostles. So he sat, watching them watch the clock. After a few minutes of sitting, legs extended and comfortably crossed at the ankle, he began to relax.
    It wouldn’t be long now, he mused.
    His eyelids suddenly felt heavy.
    She should arrive any second.
    His head began to bob.
    He couldn’t wait to see her.
    And as the Orloj struck two, and the apostles began to march, he fell asleep.

Chapter Nine

    New Brunswick, New Jersey
    â€œ Y ES, MS. MORLEY , I did exactly as you instructed, but Mr. Zurn says that terminating his services is not an option. He says he wants to speak with you directly,” Meredith’s executive assistant Cynthia reported nervously.
    â€œFirst of all, there is no ‘me’ to speak to. He is just trying to manipulate you. Second, the terms of Mr. Zurn’s employment are not his decision to make. He and his brother failed miserably and now they’re fired. It’s that simple. Thank him for his efforts, tell him he may keep the first installment as severance, and reiterate that we no longer require his assistance. After you’ve hung up, terminate the VoIP account so he can longer contact us. And just to be safe, reformat the hard drive on the notebook computer you’ve been using,” Meredith said.
    â€œUmm, Ms. Morley, he didn’t call the VoIP number. He called the office directly. Mr. Zurn is holding on line one and he asked to speak to you by name.”
    Meredith shifted her gaze to the Polycom phone on her desk. Her heartbeat quickened, falling into cadence with the rapidly blinking red LED light next to the line one button. Were she not battle-hardened, she would have gasped. Instead, she flashed Cynthia a glib smile and picked up the handset.
    â€œMr. Zurn, it seems your dossier needs to be updated. I had no idea you possessed such IT prowess.”
    â€œNo, no. I can’t take credit for this. Hacking is a form of art, and an artist I’m not. But the true measure of a man’s utility is not what he knows, but who he knows,” Raimond Zurn bantered.
    â€œIf you have such a vast talent pool to recruit from, then please explain to me how a man who is practically on his death bed, with no clothes, no money, and no resources not only outwits you, but also out-muscles you?”
    â€œThe intelligence you provided me with was wrong. He has clothes, and money. And he is far from on his deathbed. Foster is not a man to be underestimated. Your misrepresentation of the target’s capabilities is to blame for the failure in our first encounter.”
    â€œExcuses are for amateurs. I hired you because of your reputation for discretion and efficiency. A wrestling match in the middle of Old Town Prague is hardly what I had in mind. Let’s cut through the bullshit, shall we? You had your chance, and you blew it. Your services are no longer required, Mr. Zurn.”
    â€œBe careful not to confuse your world, with its lawyers and paper contracts, with mine. Our agreement was made in the underworld—think of it as a blood pact. You hired me, but you can’t fire me. I never agreed to any time limit. Bounty hunting is not child’s play; it is not paint by numbers. You will get your prize back, and you will