Bootlegger

Xavier waited for what he estimated to be five minutes, before hunkering down to check for a pulse in Jean-Claude’s neck. Satisfied with the result, he straightened up and moved to room 527. Pulling a piece of paper from his pocket he used the code written there on the lock. With the door open, he wedged a chair into position to keep it ajar. Back at the supine body, he reached down and grasped both ankles. It was easy work, dragging the unresponsive weight behind him into the room, across the plastic surface. Walking back into the main area, he pulled a dust cover from one of the cupboards and taking it into the room, he threw it over the body, tucking it under neatly. Arranged against the wall, the body would be almost invisible to anyone glancing through the glass panel in the door. Just another pile of workman’s gear to the casual glance. He stepped back, kicked the chair into the room and the door swung shut and locked.

The communication from Euron came in just as he finished.

‘Yes, completed as planned. One problem solved. Where shall I meet you?’

With a final glance around, he moved to the door beside the lift and started downstairs. As he went, he was teasing out the meaning of Euron’s final words - ‘When we get into the negotiation, act like a bootlegger.’ He knew the dictionary definition, but Euron had not elaborated on his comment and Xavier was confused.