Hans scanned the room, taking in the people and their faces. "No threats here," he thought to himself. He approached the table and spied the game just starting.
"I never took a liking to chess ... just not my game." He said, as he lit a cigarette. Drawing deeply, he blew out a breath of smoke and flicked his ashes on the floor. "Either of you see that Kim character?"
"Kim?" I asked. "Who's that?"
"You know who I mean." Hans snorted, drawing again on his cigarette.
Just then this tall blonde walked in the room. She was definitely not from the neighborhood. She stood near six feet tall and had piercing blue eyes.
"Who are you?" Blix asked.
"My name is Jong ... Kim Jong. Who the hell are you?" She hissed back. She held a cigarette of her own, waiting for Blix to offer a light. Blix met her eye and said without a word that no such courtesy was coming.
Blix summoned all his Swedish reserve. "You don't look anything like the pictures I've seen. Can't say the live version is much of an improvement." He looked at Ms. Jong through the narrow slit of his eyes.
During this time, nobody had noticed that Ahmed had slipped away, taking the chessboard with him. Like a faint summer breeze, he slipped into the noise and clatter of the Tunisian evening street.
"Damn!" Hans muttered.
...
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