Digital Fortress Chapter 30

Alfonso long dozen was a small four-star hotel set back from the Puerta de Jerez and meet by a thick wrought-iron fence and lilacs. David made his way up the marble stairs. As he reached for the door, it magi anticipatey opened, and a bellhop us here(predicate)d him inside.Baggage, senor? whitethorn I help you?No, thanks. I need to limit the concierge.The bellhop looked hurt, as if something in their two-second encounter had not been satisfactory. Por aqui, senor. He led Becker into the worldly concernsion, pointed to the concierge, and hurried off.The lobby was exquisite, small and elegantly appointed. Spains Golden Age had long since passed, but for a while in the mid-1600s, this small nation had ruled the world. The live was a proud reminder of that era-suits of armor, military etchings, and a display case of halcyon ingots from the New World.Hovering behind the counter tag conserje was a trim, well-groomed human beings happy so eagerly that it appeared hed waited his en tire life to be of assistance. En que puedo servirle, senor? How whitethorn I serve you? He spoke with an affected lisp and ran his eye up and down Beckers body.Becker responded in Spanish. I need to babble to Manuel.The mans well-tanned slip smiled even wider. Si, si, senor. I am Manuel. What is it you desire?Senor Roldan at Escortes Belen told me you would-The concierge silenced Becker with a wave and glanced nervously around the lobby. Why dont you step over here? He led Becker to the end of the counter. Now, he continued, practically in a whisper. How may I help you?Becker began again, lowering his voice. I need to speak to one of his escorts whom I believe is dining here. Her name is Rocio.The concierge let break through his breath as though overwhelmed. Aaah, Rocio-a beautiful creature.I need to see her immediately. merely, senor, she is with a knob.Becker nodded apologetically. Its important. A matter of national security.The concierge shook his head. Impossible. Perhaps if you left-hand(a) a-It will only take a moment. Is she in the dining room?The concierge shook his head. Our dining room closed half an hour ago. Im aquaphobic Rocio and her guest have retired for the evening. If youd like to leave me a message, I throw out give it to her in the morning. He motioned to the bank of numbered message boxes behind him.If I could just call her room and-Im sorry, the concierge said, his politeness evaporating. The Alfonso XIII has strict policies regarding client privacy.Becker had no intention of waiting ten hours for a fat man and a prostitute to wander down for breakfast.I understand, Becker said. Sorry to stick you. He glowering and walked back into the lobby. He strode directly to a ruddy roll-top desk that had caught his eye on his way in. It held a generous supply of Alfonso XIII postcards and stationery as well as pens and gasbags. Becker sealed a white piece of paper in an envelope and wrote one word on the envelope.ROCIO.Then he went bac k to the concierge.Im sorry to trouble you again, Becker said glide path sheepishly. Im being a bit of a fool, I know. I was hoping to prescribe Rocio personally how much I enjoyed our time together the other day. But Im leaving town tonight. Perhaps Ill just leave her a origin later on all. Becker laid the envelope on the counter.The concierge looked down at the envelope and clucked sadly to himself. Another lovesick heterosexual, he thought. What a waste. He looked up and smiled. But of course, Mr.?Buisan, Becker said. Miguel Buisan.Of course. Ill be sure Rocio gets this in the morning.Thank you. Becker smiled and turned to go.The concierge, after discreetly checking out Beckers backside, scooped up the envelope off the counter and turned to the bank of numbered slots on the wall behind him. Just as the man slipped the envelope into one of the slots, Becker spun with one final inquiry.Where might I call a taxi?The concierge turned from the wall of cubbyholes and answered. But Becker did not turn around his response. The timing had been perfect. The concierges hand was just emerging from a box marked Suite 301.Becker thanked the concierge and slowly wandered off looking for the elevator.In and out, he perennial to himself.