“It was all a mistake,” Nevio lied. “It was Karns who sent the files. Why he didn’t send the complete set, I have no idea. I gave him the right ones. Maybe Karns is trying to trick you. I want to talk with my son.”
“Nice boy, handsome. I bet the girls like his face. It’s a pretty face. It would be tragic if it were damaged.”
“You bastard,” Nevio said.
“Not to worry. He’ll be fine.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“I want the files, the complete ones. I also want the prototype of the helmet. I know you have it at the factory—Karns told me. I’ll send you a text later this morning with specific directions that you will follow—exactly. Be careful, or your handsome son will not be so handsome anymore.” The connection went dead.
Nevio dropped his face into his hands. “What the hell have you gotten us into, you and your father. Our boy is out there, alone. You see, this is what happens—”
“Shut up, Nevio,” Ilaria said. “We have to do what we have to. I had to do what I had—”
“Interesting,” Phan said, interrupting. The voice of his son still in his head. “Seems we have a family argument brewing. I may have to expand my list of murder suspects.”
“This is all screwed up,” Alex said. “How important is all this, Javier?”
Javier looked at Detective Phan. “All I can tell you is that the systems that the Luccheses have compromised have set back a NATO program by a couple of years. We’ll get past this, but the real issue is the continued thefts that this Chinese group conducts. How much is under investigation. We arrested two men in Bonn a week ago; one was a Chinese national. He killed himself in jail before he could be questioned. These people are very serious.”
“My, my! You Americans have been busy,” Phan added.
Alex’s phone pinged. Phan looked annoyed. She took it from her pocket.
Sandy Girl,
Just a reminder, don’t forget 10:00, Me Linh Square. And yes, I’m a fucking asshole. You be there and do exactly as I said.
Danny Z.
“Who is that?” Phan asked. “Show me the phone.”
“My ex-husband.”
“This is getting to be fun, in a weird Western superpower’s sort of way,” Phan said.
“You’re a bastard,” Chris said to the detective.
“To quote an old American movie: ‘In my case, an accident of birth. But you, sir, you’re a self-made man.’”
“There’s something strange about this last text,” Alex said. “It’s as if Ralph doesn’t know that Paolo is no longer under his control. Maybe we have a chance to catch him when he comes to get the money.”
“There’s no extradition treaty between Vietnam and the United States,” Phan said.
“There may be other ways,” Chris said, looking at Javier.
“You Americans can be so creative when it suits your purpose. Personally, once all this gets out about Ms. Polonia and me, the whole pile of shit will hit the fan. I suggest that the less that’s publicly thrown about, the better.”
“There’s no reason the Luccheses have to remain here,” Alex said to Phan. “They have enough to deal with. Chris, this is what you’ll do: I want two thousand pieces of paper the size of an American dollar bill, and eight color copies of an American one-hundred-dollar bill, both sides. Bring them to the Lucchese apartment by nine o’clock this morning. Also, find clear plastic wrap and packing tape. I’ll leave for Me Linh Square at nine forty-five. Javier, you can drive me to the apartment. Chris, when this is all over, there is much to talk about.”
Chris looked at Detective Phan. “Are the Luccheses free to go?”
“I’ve no reason to hold them,” Phan said. “However, I’ll keep their passports for now.”
“After I drop the Luccheses at the apartment, I’ll get the things you asked for,” Chris said, looking at Alex. “And yes, there is much to talk about.”
CHAPTER 46
Twenty minutes after Alex arrived at the apartment, the Luccheses entered. Ilaria immediately went to Gianna’s room. Nevio, ignoring his wife, went to his office. Maria was sitting on the couch. Alex could see that she’d been crying.
“How is Gianna?” Alex asked.
“Tired and frightened. She is confused and upset. She fell asleep an hour ago,” Maria answered. “When will you get Paolo?”
“This should all be over this evening,” Alex said. “I’m exhausted, so I’m going to get a little sleep.”
Alex went to her room, set the alarm on her phone for seven. It seemed like she’d just closed her eyes when it went off. She took a shower and dressed, then went to the kitchen. Javier sat at the counter drinking coffee. Maria was making him eggs.
“Don’t you ever sleep?” she asked.
“I got a little, but this helps.” He held up the cup to Maria. “Grazie.”
Alex poured herself a cup and sat next to Javier. “Strange road we walk, isn’t it, pardner. Do I know how to throw a rodeo or what?”
“Never a dull moment, pardner! Do you think this will work?”
“Ralph’s biggest problem is his greed. He’ll do anything for a buck. The bigger the bucks, the bigger the anything. By now he’s probably found out that he doesn’t have Paolo. He’s confident, or at least hopeful, that we don’t know. He’s also freaked out about how he lost the boy. Since we didn’t blow him off, I hope he believes that we don’t know anything about what happened to Paolo. I don’t know what that sociopathic nephew of mine has done, but I’m sure he’s left no witnesses. And since Ralph texted me after we talked to Lin, he doesn’t know where Paolo is either. If Ralph had been wherever he was hiding the boy when Lin showed up, he’d be dead. He’s a lucky SOB. Most likely, Phan will get a notice in a few days about some bodies being found in some forgotten part of the city.” She took a long sip of the coffee. “I’ll make the drop—at least I can stiff him—and show him that two can play his stupid games.”
Chris arrived, and they bundled the two thousand dollar-sized pieces of paper and wrapped them in clear plastic. The color copies of the hundred-dollar bills neatly covered the blank papers wrapped underneath. Alex had used this trick a few times on drug busts; she hoped that Ralph would buy what he saw. When they were done, even she believed she was carrying two hundred thousand dollars.
“I don’t understand why you’re doing this,” Chris said. “The guy’s an asshole, and he doesn’t have Paolo. He believes he’s pulling one over on you. I don’t get it. Send him an email—tell him to fuck himself.”
“In due time—two can play his charade. And why am I doing this? Ralph is completely nuts. Maybe this will throw him over the edge, maybe he’ll do something stupid, or maybe Phan and his people can grab him and throw him in a Vietnamese prison.”
At nearly ten o’clock, Javier parked at the curb across the roundabout from Me Linh Square.
Alex got out and entered the square with its massive bronze sculpture of some important-looking general wearing military clothing from eons ago. She crossed the boulevard and walked down the ramp to the T-shaped pier that extended out into the Saigon River. She checked her phone—no new messages. The posted ferry schedule read the boat was due in twenty minutes. She wasn’t sure if she was to get on board, wait, or meet someone. She hoped that the men Phan had put on the ferry a few stops earlier would spot anyone suspicious before they reached her. Looking around, she thought that would cover half the people she saw milling about waiting for the ferry.
She looked up and down the river. A thin wet fog covered the low-lying island across the waterway. Fronting the far side were collapsed buildings, advertising signs, and rank vegetation. Dozens of moored houseboats and a rusty freighter were also anchored. Behind her and dominating the city skyline was the Bitexco Financial Tower, with its weird duck-bill-shaped helicopter pad sticking out of its upper stories. It looked as if the iconic Rolling Stones’ rude tongue logo was giving a vulgar rebuke to the city.
The midmorn
ing heat and humidity had returned. Downriver, through the haze, she saw the bow of the ferry as it plowed toward her. She glanced at her phone: ten minutes. She jumped as it pinged in her hand.
Walk to the south end of the pier.
She saw no one that even remotely looked like a six-foot-one American of Polish ancestry. She did as ordered.
Ping.
Stand ten feet back from the edge—wait.
She stepped back a few feet. From below, a buzz filled the air like a hundred bees were swarming. She took another step back. Slowly, a four-prop drone rose from the surface of the river, hovered for a moment, then moved toward her and stopped. It then lowered itself to the concrete surface of the pier.
Ping.
Take the envelope taped to the drone’s deck, then secure to the drone’s deck the package with the bungee cords. Open the envelope after the drone leaves. I can see you with the onboard camera—don’t screw up.
Pissed, she did as directed. The drone rose off the pavement and headed out over the river, just passing in front of the bow of the ferry as it turned toward the pier. She lost the drone behind the boat.
Goddamn it.
“Did you see where it went?” Javier said as he ran up to her. The ferry slowed and began the process of docking. “Here, take these.” He handed her a pair of binoculars.
She scanned the river and spotted a flash as the drone turned and headed toward a low stone pier on the far side, where a man stood on the end, holding something.
“That has got to be him,” she said.
She pointed and looked again. The drone flashed again in the sunlight and disappeared near the pier. The man walked to the spot where the drone disappeared. He bent down, moving out of sight, then stood up. She saw what looked like binoculars rise to his face.
Ping.
You bitch. Now you won’t see the kid.
She furiously typed, then sent: Screw you, we have the kid.
Seeing the message, Javier said, “But we don’t.”
“He doesn’t know that.”
She looked back at Ralph standing on the pier. He raised his hand in some gesture. She raised her right hand and gave him the finger.
“What’s in the envelope?”
She ripped it open. A folded note was inside.
Sandy Girl,
I’m sorry about all this. I needed traveling money, not too much but just enough to get your attention, thanks. By the way, someone took the kid. I don’t know who. If it had been you or that Campbell guy, my guess is that you would have just blown me off, so I’m thinking you don’t have him. Whoever took the boy killed some of the guys my Saigon contact provided. He will not be happy. I need to boogie before he finds out.
Good luck,
Ralph
She handed Javier the note to read for himself.
“What, no funny Danny Zuko, or some other cute remark?” he said.
“I guess he’s trying to be serious. He’s still an asshole.”
CHAPTER 47
At precisely three thirty that afternoon, Nevio’s phone received a text message. In English it read:
Deliver the final plug-in and the prototype helmet to me this evening. When the data is handed over, it will be checked to see if it’s correct. After verification, I will release your son. He seems like a good kid. Don’t mess it up. I will meet you on the helicopter platform of the Bitexco Financial Tower at precisely 9:00. I fully expect the police to be there or nearby. However, the result of any interference by the police or the Americans is the boy’s death. If there is any attempt to stop me from leaving, he will die.
Reply by just sending the words: “I understand.”
Detective Phan was standing outside on the terrace of the Lucchese apartment when the message arrived. He was holding Nevio’s phone. He walked back inside and looked across the room to Nevio, who sat next to Ilaria. On the other chairs were Chris and Javier. Gianna was with Maria in Paolo’s room. He read the message to them and then responded as Lin requested. Alex took the phone and reread the message.
“Why is he doing this?” Alex asked.
“Why is my son doing this, you mean? I don’t know. Until the other day, we thought he might be dead. Something in Lin snapped when he was fourteen. He got into a fight with some boys at school. He was badly beaten, suffered head trauma and almost didn’t make it. I was the first cop on the scene—it broke my heart.”
“He was just a teenager?” Alex asked.
“When he got out of the hospital, he was different. Always an active, almost hyper child, he became manic. Bad days followed good days. His studies declined. Then he started spending nights outside the house. I had my men watch him; he always found ways to lose them. I received reports that he’d become involved with a gang. Then, one day, three of the boys that were suspected of beating him were found brutally murdered. I could not believe that it was my son. When I confronted him, he walked out of the house. The next time I saw him was the photo you showed me.”
“You have no idea where he’s been?”
“None. It’s obvious he has access to significant assets. You now tell me that he may be involved in murder and espionage all over the world.”
“Yes, Dubai,” Alex said. “That’s where he met with Lucchese and Karns. There’re reports from other governments that describe someone just like your son. He may be responsible for more than twenty deaths and the theft of billions in technology. Chris tells me that he’s on a shoot-to-kill order in many countries. My guess, there are businesses and governments that would like to interrogate your son as well.”
“There’s something broken in him,” Phan said.
“Probably,” Alex said, and put her hand on his. “Can you get us access to the helicopter pad on the tower?”
“That should not be a problem. I’ll get Mr. Lucchese there. Lin is expecting him.”
“Good,” Alex said. “We need to play his game. Is this location difficult to get to?”
“Other than the elevator or by helicopter, it’s impossible to reach. It’s on the fifty-second floor of the tower. It’s a large dish shape attached to the side of the building. Everyone in the city can see it. I’ve been told it doesn’t function properly as a helicopter pad; the winds are too chaotic to safely land. It’s higher than any adjacent building; that makes a sniper useless too. For someplace in the middle of the city and fully exposed, it’s also isolated. Lin knows that. My guess is that he will arrive in that cycle-drone vehicle and demand the data. After that, I have no idea what he will do.”
Thick clouds rolled in from the South China Sea sixty kilometers to the south and now blanketed Ho Chi Minh City. Their undersides were illuminated by the millions of lights that stretched across the landscape of the city. The air was fresh, damp, and breezy on the open landing deck of the Bitexco Financial Tower. Alex, Chris, Javier, and Phan stood just outside the glass doors of the deck’s lobby. Inside, Nevio and Ilaria remained with two uniformed officers and one of Phan’s plainclothes detectives. The deck was floodlit by dozens of powerful lights that washed across the concrete. A yellow target with a white H was painted on the center of the deck. The Vietnamese national flag, a red banner with a yellow star, flapped in the wind at the farthest point. It was nine fifteen.
“He’s late,” Javier said.
“He told us to be here at nine,” Detective Phan said.
“This is the most bizarre payoff I’ve ever been on,” Alex said, looking across the city skyline. “Are your men up?”
Phan held a two-way radio. “Yes, they’re holding about a kilometer away. If needed, they can be here in seconds.”
“Not sure what they can do,” Chris said.
“They’re there to follow,” Phan said. “That’s all.”
An intense, high-pitched whirring filled the canyon of buildings that spread out below the tower. Beyond the edge of the landing deck and its stainless-steel railing, as if an apparition were rising from the grave, two seated figures riding the cy
cle-drone rose into the wash of lights. The front passenger had his hands on the handlebars. The person behind him was smaller, and his hands were secured with duct tape, his legs taped to supports under his seat. Both wore black helmets and black clothing. The vehicle itself was flat black. The only visible lights were flashes from the dials and gauges on the dashboard. The sound the four people on the landing pad heard was a buzzing that reminded them of a thousand motorbikes racing through the streets of Saigon, fifty-two floors below.
Ping.
Phan looked at Nevio’s phone.
I’m glad that you haven’t disappointed me, Father. I expected you to be here. Do nothing or the boy will disappear and you’ll never see him again.
Phan watched as the cycle-drone passed over the railing and then drifted just above the deck. It constantly adjusted itself to the cross breezes. Six meters past the railing it stopped, hovered for a few seconds, and gently dropped to the deck. The rotor blades continued to spin. The rider dismounted and unhurriedly strolled toward the four people. He removed his gloves and secured them to his belt. He wore a backpack and a black web belt with several devices and two weapons attached to it. He removed his helmet.
“What a fine party we have here,” Lin said as he scanned the four. He then looked through the glass. “And my pathetic associate, Nevio Lucchese, is waiting inside. Father, it’s good to see you again. It’s been too long, but Grandmother always kept me informed. How such a good woman could have such a fool for a son, I just don’t know. I’ve been telling her that I’m a secret agent working for the Vietnamese government. You might keep my current employment from her. I don’t want to break her heart.”
“Listen, you punk,” Chris started to say.
Lin glared at Chris. “Shut up, old man. Do not interrupt. If anything happens to me, that machine will take off with the boy and explode. That will give the Luccheses something to remember for the rest of their lives. I want the data and the helmet. Whoever has it, give it to Mr. Lucchese to bring it out.” Lin scanned the people on the deck. “Where’s Harry Karns?”
Saigon Red Page 25
