"We must be getting close," Scotty said. His voice was very low.
Rick unsnapped his key ring. It had a pencil flashlight attached. He shot the light over the house fronts, searching for a number. A cream-colored lizard darted frantically out of the circle of light into protecting darkness.
"Two more numbers," Rick said. "Must be the house after the next one." He flashed the tiny light ahead and froze as he saw the shape of a man. Beside him, he felt Scotty tense.
It was silly to stand frozen. Rick moved ahead, slowly, and the shape took form. Turban, flowing tunic with sash. Fiercely whiskered face. A Sikh guard.
He breathed a sigh of relief. Sikhs—Indians—were noted for their bravery and fighting ability, and they could be found in most cities of the Far East, usually employed as private guards or police.
The Sikh came to attention and Rick noted that he was rather small for his race. Most Sikhs were big men. He had kept the light on the bearded face, noting that the beard was neatly tied in the Sikh fashion. Brown eyes stared unblinkingly. A hoarse voice said, "This ees house of Meester Secretary Lazada. Please to enter."
Suddenly the voice changed and Rick nearly jumped out of his skin.
"Go right on up the stairs, meatheads. Scotty must be hungry. He always is."
Rick choked.
"Chahda!"