The Extremes

She confined herself to two choices: the general scenario option, because she was unclear about what was available and this seemed to open the way to the rest, and from the training modules 'Target Practice: Handgun'. A note to this one said that applicants were required to produce accreditation or licence, and a police or employer's reference also had to be produced.

She ringed it anyway, then returned to the front of the form. In the box enquiring about her employer, she wrote 'US Dept. of Justice FBI', she described herself as federal agent', and in the Number of Years Employed box she wrote '16'.

After another wait at the reception desk Teresa handed in her form, and waited while Paula Willson checked through it.

,Thank you,' she said after a moment. 'May I have some identification, Mrs Simons, and your credit card?'

Teresa handed over her Baltimore First National Visa, and her Bureau ID. The young woman ran the card through the electronic swipe, and while waiting for a response she glanced at the ID. She handed it back without comment, then typed a few entries on the keyboard in front of her.

Finally she said, 'I'm afraid I'm not able to assign handgun target-practice authorization myself. Would you mind waiting for a few minutes, and I'll ask our duty manager to see you?'

'No, of course not. You said there were some slots free this afternoon. Assuming 1 get the goahead, can 1 book one of them now?'

Paula Willson looked surprised, but she typed at the keyboard, and in a moment said, 'Well, we have target range software free at threethirty, in Just under an hour. And there's another slot at five. Or would you prefer to use the general scenarios?'

'I'll take the threethirty slot, for target practice.' The words came out quickly. Teresa was still apprehensive about the full scenarios, the extraordinary onslaught of physical sensations, the dislocation from reality. On the other hand, she knew what ExEx target ranges were like and they were regularly used by the Bureau. But she asked, 'What about the other scenarios?'

'We have nothing free today. There are a couple of hours available tomorrow.'

Teresa considered, not having expected there would be a delay. She had thought it would be something she could just walk into, as she had done at the Academy.

'Are you always as busy as this?' she said.

'Pretty much. ExEx has recently become much more popular than it was even a year ago.

The problem's worse at some of the bigger centres. There's a fourmonth waiting list for membership at our centre in Maidstone, for instance. In London and some of the other big cities you have to wait nearly a year. They're planning to close membership here soon. We're running at capacity, just about.'

'I hadn't realized ExEx had grown as big as this.'

'It's big.' The young woman's eyes flicked towards the screen. 'What shall 1 do? Book you in provisionally for the threethirty slot?'

'Yes. Thanks. After that, I'll book some other time ahead.'

A printer built into the body of the desk emitted a familiar muted screech, and a curl of paper came jerkily into view. Paula Willson ripped it off, and passed it to Teresa for her signature. lt was a creditcard charge slip.

' 1'd better let you have our current price list,' the receptionist said, and gave Teresa a folded brochure printed on glossy paper. 'We'll send the membership folder to you in due course.'

' You assume they're going to let me in,' Teresa said.

'I don't expect there'll be a problem,' said Paula Willson. 'I think you're the first FBI agent they've had in this centre.'

CHAPTER 17

May I speak with Ms Amy Colwyn, please?' lt was a determined American voice: male, making an effort to be polite.

'This is she,' Amy said, but then corrected herself. 'Speaking.'

'Ms Colwyn, this is to advise you that we win be checking in at your hotel this evening.'

'Who is that, please?'

'This is Ken Mitchell, of the GunHo Corporation. We have some reservations with you, made by our head office in Taiwan?' His voice rose, as if asking a question, but it was unmistakably a statement. 'Is this the White Dragon Hotel?'

'Yes, sir. We are expecting you this evening.'

'OK. We've just landed at London Heathrow and I've picked up a file copy of the reservation, and 1 want to advise you that our company always makes it a condition of reservation that in a small hotel like yours we expect to have sole occupation. 1 see you have not confirmed this in your letter, although you would have been advised of the condition when the reservation was made.'

' Sole occupation?' Amy said.

'Yeah, 1 know this would have been discussed. We like the place to ourselves.'

'I confirmed the reservation myself 1 don't remember this coming up. But all our rooms are completely private '

'I'm not getting this across to you, am I? No other people in the place. You got that?'

'Yes, Mr Mitchell.'

'OK, we'll be with you directly.'

'Do you know how to find the hotel, sir? 1 can arrange to have someone pick you up from the station'

'We don't go anywhere by train,' said Mr Ken Mitchell from Taiwan, and put down the phone.

A little later, Amy looked into the bar. Nick was sitting there alone, a newspaper propped up on his knee and spreading untidily across the counter.

'Have you seen Mrs Simons this afternoon?' she asked him.

'No.' He didn't look up. 'I think she went out somewhere. Not in her room?'

'I've had those American people from Taiwan on the phone. They say they don't want anyone else staying here at the same time as them.'

'That's bad luck.' He put down the newspaper, and took a sip from the glass at his side. 'Not much we can do about

'I didn't like the sound of it,' Amy said. 'He seemed pretty certain of what he wanted.'

'Maybe somewhere else could take them in.'

'Are you serious? Do you realize how much money these people could make us?'

'Well, maybe Mrs Simons would like to move to another hotel. You said she wasn't happy about something.'

'No, 1 did ask her,' Amy said. 'She told me she had no complaints, and wanted to stay.'

'Then what are you asking me?'

'It's your hotel, Nick! These people from Taiwan are deterrmined to have the place to themselves, or sounded like it. What's the law? Can they insist on us throwing out another guest?'

'The only person who can do that is me. And I'm not about to.'

His eyes kept straying towards the newspaper, and Amy felt herself getting irritated with him. She left him there, and went to be by herself in the tiny office.

She sat down behind the desk, staring blankly and distractedly at the mess of papers before noticing the bills that had come in during the last week. Nick had tossed them in a heap on the desk. She leafed through them, then looked around for their latest bank statement. She switched on the computer and after it had booted she put up on the screen the spreadsheet file where she kept the list of cheques they had paid. She looked over them, noted a few differences, and within a few minutes was contentedly occupied by the familiar drudgery of checking her own bookkeeping.

'I'm going upstairs for a bath,' Nick said from the doorway, and tossed in the newspaper. lt landed on the desk, dislodging pieces of paper she had only iust sorted out.

'Anyone in the bar?' she called after him.

'Not at the moment.'

She glared after him, then surrendered once again to the familiar sensation of being trapped in this hotel. She still hadn't completely worked out her feelings about Nick, or even about why she had moved back in with him. Running the hotel was displacement activity of a sort, a postponement of decisions about her own life.