Troubleshooter

Chapter 53 - Wake

"TO BRADY," Tom said.

Amy and Paul replied, "To Brady," and three Kingfisher bottles clinked together. The three friends drank the first swallows and then solemnly fell silent for a few moments. The police and Security Service aftermath of the David Hall affair had kept them in the Strom building for the whole afternoon. Tom had renewed his proposal to hold a wake for Brady, and here they were, as originally planned, in The Tale of India restaurant. They had caught the last table; the place was running under full Friday evening steam, with lots of talk and noise and laughter around them.

"Boss, you can relax. It's over," Tom said.

"What makes you think I can relax?" Paul said.

"Tom is right. Earlier this week, you were definitely more relaxed," Amy observed. "I remember a cool guy picking me up from my archiving cellar. Somehow that cool guy didn't make it through the week."

"Amy, I killed another man today. Who had held my former girlfriend as a hostage. Give me a minute to come down."

Amy shook her head and took another sip of beer.

Tom looked at Paul curiously. "Is it possible that you do not like crowded places? You are always glancing around and shifting in your seat. Do you want to take my seat?"

Paul actually looked uncomfortable. "Would you mind?" They switched chairs, and Paul was positioned with the wall behind his back, overlooking most of the restaurant. He breathed more evenly.

Amy and Tom, slightly embarrassed, exchanged telepathic glances. Man, our boss needs therapy.

"Namoshkar! What would you like to order?" The waiter materialized at their table.

"Three chicken vindaloo, please. Extra hot," Tom ordered, but Amy grabbed his arm.

"Make that four, please," she requested, "and one more setting."

The waiter walked away; and Tom and Paul looked at her.

Amy raised her bottle again. "For Brady. To the nicest older guy who ever lived, an agent of agents and a secret of secrets. May he spy in peace. He can walk in the steps of Elvis and Jim Morrisson, now. And ask Marylin out for a date. He can talk shop with Ian Flemming and kick Lee Harvey Oswald in the balls." Tears were flowing down her face now; and she took her napkin to wipe them away. "All that Brady can do. But not yet. Not tonight." She smiled at Paul and Tom. "Tonight, he is here with us, I am sure."

Three bottles clinked again.