Sing - I can't think of any more punny titles related to 'Singapore'...
It was clear that K-Unit had already arrived at the Fullerton Hotel before Alex had been led there by the helpful lady; like heavyweight giraffes, they crowded around a yellow Ferrari with muted voices filled with excitement.
"Do you think the owner is Icy?" Eagle was murmuring. "D'you think he'll let us drive it?"
"Nah," butted in Alex to let them know he was there, "I don't think it's his."
The men turned to face the teen.
"Why'd you take so long?" Fox taunted, though Alex could see the way the tension in his shoulders eased.
Alex glowered at Wolf. "Your girlfriend chased me all the way to a temple. I had to walk quite a distance to get here," he added pompously.
Wolf looked uncomfortable. "Ex-girlfriend. Maybe she's with Icy?"
Snake scoffed. "You can't ignore your problems, Wolf. If you have a problem with girlfriends, you have to acknowledge them. Show you can deal with them."
"But I don't –" Wolf reddened. "She – It wasn't me!"
Eagle snickered. "Well, if you're going to take that attitude, of course she left. Haven't you heard of 'it's not you; it's me'?"
Fox clapped Wolf on the back. "They're just joking, Wolfman. But seriously, you need a relationship guidebook or something." Aside to Alex, he muttered, "You should probably go meet Icy." He glanced at his watch. "Leave us to deal with the relationship issues. We'll have your back."
"Yes, you should go," agreed Snake, a little redundantly.
Alex shrugged and entered the hotel.
The Fullerton Hotel was a sumptuous place of high ceilings, polished floors and golden furnishings. Chocolate-brown velvet curtains draped along one side, a simple background to the leather armchairs and koi pond central to five staircases. A walkway provided a circuit around the pond along the perimeter of the building.
A hotel attendant approached Alex. "Are you… looking for Mr Dù?"
Alex have him a blank look.
"Mr Dù Aìshì?"
"Icy?"
"Yes!" The man nodded, with a wide smile. "I bring you to him."
"Er, good. Yes. Thanks."
The man led him around the koi pond to a hotel buffet, with posters advertising a 'Special Occasion Chocolate Buffet!' in happy, curling letters.
When he had seated Alex, the waiter withdrew an envelope made of some sort of thick parchment from somewhere in his suit. "Mr Dù ask me to give this to you after you make your friends come over here."
Alex frowned, but glanced around the hotel lobby until he spotted Snake. He gestured for the man to come.
"What's going on?" Snake asked.
The blond shrugged. "No idea. Icy said I had to call you in, you know, because you're my friend." He looked at Snake meaningfully. "My only friend."
"No," said the waiter, "many friends. Mr Dù say you have four."
Snake furrowed his brows, having caught on. "Four?" he enunciated dramatically. "But there's only two of us – including you, Alex."
Alex didn't know whether to laugh or groan at Snake's terrible acting skills. "I don't know; maybe he miscounted."
The waiter had folded his arms and was looking sternly at the two Europeans.
Eagle was called over. Reluctantly. "What's up? You alright?"
"Icy said to call over all my friends – you and Snake."
"No," repeated the waiter, shaking his head, "Many; not a couple."
Eagle seemed to get the idea quickly enough. "We're not a couple," he interjected indignantly, "And what do you mean by many? There's only us."
The waiter pursed his lips, and started tapping his patent-leather clad foot. "I will not give you Mr Dù's message."
"Get Wolf to come," sighed Snake.
The third friend was called over. "Where's Fox?" he asked obliviously.
Alex exhaled noisily, as the waiter, triumphant, raised a single eyebrow and sneered.
"Where is Fox?" the waiter mocked Wolf. "Yes, where is Fox?"
Wolf seemed to realise he'd made a mistake, flushing and standing paralysed. "Uh, what I meant to say was…"
"No," the waiter interrupted, shaking a slender finger at them, "where is Fox?"
"In the forest?" muttered Alex.
There was no humour in the waiter's face. "I will call Fox for you," he said. He took a deep breath, and opened his mouth –
"Wait!" yelled Alex desperately, reddening as several nearby patrons turned to stare at him. "I will… I will get Fox."
The waiter smiled nastily. "Yes."
Alex looked desperately around the hotel lobby. However, it seemed Fox had paid too much attention to his lessons in spycraft, because Alex was finding it difficult to find the man. He stood up, waving away the waiter's protestations, and left the table to search for Fox.
Fox wasn't watching the koi; nor was he pretending to read the information-plaques on the walls, or pretending to shop in the hotel's connected jewellery stores. In fact, Fox was nowhere to be seen.
Once, twice, three times, Alex circled the lobby, peering at faces he'd already peered at, and trying to remember what exactly Fox had been wearing. If only he'd had a large red hat, or something.
He was almost about to give up and return to the waiter, when Fox stepped blandly out of a bathroom, wiping his damp hands on his trousers. "Fox," breathed Alex in relief.
Fox looked bemused. "What? Aren't you meant to be talking to Icy?"
Suddenly, a wave of anger washed through Alex. "Weren't you meant to be watching my back?" he snarled.
The MI6 agent raised his hands in surrender. "Woah," he laughed weakly, "what did I do to deserve this?"
Alex's shoulders slumped. "Icy isn't here."
"Are we going, then?"
"No," sulked Alex, "there's a letter for me, but the waiter won't give it to me until you come."
Fox rubbed his chin. "Why would Icy do that?" he wondered.
"Never mind that," Alex brushed him off, once again impatient. "You've got to come."
Alex led Fox back to the table, where the waiter stood by as K-Unit consumed several plates of small chocolate goodies – tarts, mini-cakes, cheesecake, fudge, brownies, pudding, truffles, ice-cream, hot chocolate, mousse, biscuits… Just the sight made Alex's mouth water.
Eagle looked up as Alex and Fox approached. With his wide eyes, and a smear of chocolate on one cheek, he looked the quintessential puppy that has eaten food it was not allowed to. "Alex!" he exclaimed, covering the cake he had been devouring, "You found Fox! We thought – uh…"
"Yes," snarked Alex, "I did."
If he had not been an adult, Eagle would surely have whimpered. His whole body hunched in on itself, and he gazed down sadly at his plate, evidence of his misdeeds. He covered the sorry sight with his napkin. "We saved you some food…"
Wolf coughed loudly. Alex stared at the plate of chocolate-covered fruit that was passed towards him. Then he looked up to the waiter.
The waiter smiled widely. "Eat. I buy for you."
Was this some kind of test? He looked at his comrades. They seemed oblivious to the dangers the fruit might represent. What if it was poisoned? Noticing his hesitation, the waiter's grin grew – impossible though it had seemed at first – ever wider. He repeated his request: "Eat, little man. I will not give Mr Du's message to you if you do not eat."
Wolf coughed at him, and nodded. It looked as if he had no choice in the matter. Looking at his teammates, he was somewhat reassured that none of them appeared to be getting drowsy, or melted, or blue. With tentative fingers, Alex picked up a chocolate-covered strawberry and bit the end off.
The strawberry was juicy, its sugary taste blending effortlessly with the bitter dark chocolate surrounding its flesh. It left a slightly sharp, acidic aftertaste as Alex swallowed. Poison? It tasted like no poison he could recall.
"More!" commanded the waiter. "Finish the plate!"
With Fox's help, Alex dutifully scoffed down the rest of the food. He didn't feel any different… yet. The others still seemed healthy enough. When he had cleared the platter and was feeling, if anything, bloated to the point of imminent vomitus, the waiter once again gave his trademark smirk. "There is no cheque for you to pay – you thank Mr Dù for this – but now you must come. I take you."
The waiter guided the group to the entrance of the Hotel, where the yellow Ferrari that they had so admired earlier waited, gleaming in the setting sunlight. Eagle's eyes widened comically, and he held a hand to his chest, pretending to swoon. "I think I'm in love!" he exclaimed.
Wolf, despite his seeming to be pleasantly surprised, hunched his shoulders and in a low tone, muttered, "Shh! People are staring."
However, it appeared the two men's dream was not about to be fulfilled any time in the near future. The waiter led them around the Ferrari, past the line of gleaming Aston Martins and polished Porsches, to a cornflower-blue taxi. Apologetically, the waiter explained that they would have to ride somewhat illegally, as, in total, there were six of them – unless one of them was to somehow disappear (an unpleasant grin worked its way across his lips), they'd be legally required to use a maxi taxi, and that would cost more. "Mr Dù, he takes much care of his wealth," the waiter explained, still smiling. "The driver will not mind extra person."
The waiter spoke the truth. As the six of them bundled into the car, the waiter riding shotgun, the taxi driver merely glanced in the rear-view mirror, blinked, mumbled something about Icy, accepted the crinkled paper money the waiter passed him and pointed pointedly at a musty blanket in the foot well. "For cops," he muttered, driving carefully out of the Hotel on the waiter's instructions*.
"Turn left here," instructed the waiter once they were out. "Right here. Right again. Keep going."
The instructions continued monotonously for about ten minutes, as far as Alex could tell. He quickly lost track of where they were headed, other than the vague suspicion that they were heading away from the river. It was difficult to know; the magnificent tall buildings gave the impression that the real ground level was somewhere high above, and that humans had carved winding roads deep into the surface of a metallic earth.
"At the next roundabout, take the second left," continued the waiter. "Stop at that building. The white one. With the beer bottles on the windowsill. Thank you."
Coolly, the waiter paid the taxi driver and led the five of them up to the front chicken-wire gate.
The house stood out against the Singaporean backdrop. It was a wooden construct raised on stilts as if it had wandered over to its location and decided, somewhat magnanimously, to settle there. Whitewashed timber planks housed a large, empty veranda shaded by a corrugated iron roof that, at present, was lovingly masked by the bright lilac of jacaranda flowers. Rust tinged the roof edges like a slow blush. From the gate, the waiter led them up a flight of raw wooden stairs. Their boots created a muffled drumroll heralding their entry into Icy's abode.
As the waiter rung a heavy cast-iron bell, Snake took the opportunity to admire the garden. It wasn't much; tufts of brown grass struggled to survive under the blazing sun, with lantana strangling the fence. Beside the house, leaning into the veranda and arching a branch good-naturedly over the roof, grew the flowering jacaranda Alex had noticed earlier. All this, Snake recited to Alex, who really couldn't have cared less.
While they waited for Icy, who seemed to be taking his time, Eagle sat down on an old rocking chair that faced away from the house. "Do you think Icy likes to mensen kijken?" he asked abruptly.
Fox frowned. "What?"
"'Cause, you know, my grandmother liked to. Do you think Icy's old?"
"What does …men-ser-kike… even mean?"
"Hmm?" Eagle looked confused. "Oh, right. 'People-watch'. I read it in a book. There was this guy and he was Dutch, right? And he was an investigator – like that Swedish detective guy played by that Lockhart man – and the elderly people in his village were really good at helping because they mensen kijken – people watch – all day."
As if to pre-empt Eagle's impending speech into the intricacies of the plot, a large object from inside crashed into the front door, rebounding with an almighty screech of pain. Out of the shadows came mutters that sounded decidedly human. The door opened, and out stepped Icy. "Sorry mates, I was going to Kramer youse all, but bloody crimsafe got in the way." He sighed noisily.
K-Unit goggled. Icy matched his name in a Hollywood way, with peroxide white hair that contrasted his weathered golden skin and, well, Icy blue eyes. His smile was as white as the Antarctic glaciers. He held out a brown, callused hand to Alex, who shook it with a dazed expression. The scent of aftershave sliced through the musty midday air.
"Alex, roight? Good of ya ta come."
Alex, to his confusion, heard several thumps behind him. He turned. Snake and Eagle lay on the veranda, their skin slightly grey. Fox was breathing heavily as he grasped the railing, perspiring in his effort to stay upright. Eventually, he too succumbed and collapsed, with a helpless glance towards Alex, to join the others. Glancing at his comrades, Wolf brought a hand to his forehead, pirouetted, and collapsed in a neat heap.
Alex spun back to Icy, who shrugged innocently.
"Must be the heat, eh? Moi good looks?" the man chuckled. "They'll be roight in a few." He winked.
Nausea flooded Alex's being and the air became thick. A hand held to his throat, stumbling backwards, he blinked the sweat out of his eyes and tried desperately to cling to consciousness – but it was so, so bright. The sunlight squeezed his brain. It was with some measure of relief that Alex allowed his eyes to snap shut and his legs to give way. Icy's wheezing chuckle was his lullaby into unconsciousness.
*This has NEVER happened as far as I know and this incidence is for the purposes of fanFICTION and does not reflect what may or may not be true in Singapore.