by C. C. Gibbs
Walking with Carlos to his desk, Rafe pointed at a leather club chair. “Do you mind? I’m beginning to fade.”
“Be my guest. You haven’t slept much.”
“No one has. Have you heard from Webster lately? He was going to check out some galleries with Gina.”
Carlos shook his head, sat at his desk, and leaned back in his chair. “Come to think of it, Lola received a text. Something about buying a painting.”
Neither man mentioned the fuckup. Regret was useless; both had learned that the hard way.
“What time is it in Brisbane?” Rafe glanced at his watch. “Webster should be up.” He punched in a number on his cell and didn’t have long to wait. “Sounds like you’re out on the street.” Rafe’s eyebrows went up. “Nice of you to fetch and carry. Anyway, I’m calling with shit news. Zou’s broken out. Anything useful there?”
“Maybe. Our gallery search turned up a small show of Bao-Yu’s paintings. She’s using a different name but I recognized her work from the photos in her dossier. We bought a painting and she’s going to redo a small section to match my office colors.”
“Your office colors?”
“Yeah, I have an office building I’m redecorating, which makes me a potential big spender. The gallery owner was impressed. He convinced Bao-Yu to compromise her principles and do a little touch up on the painting for me. Sounds like she’s been showing in his gallery for about six months. Also sounds like she needs the money.”
Rafe whistled softly. “You don’t say.”
“I do. Now to find out why. Gina and I—we’re married by the way—chatted up the gallery owner while he was running one of your no-name company credit cards and getting excited about selling more paintings. Apparently Bao-Yu came to Brisbane this time with her daughter and her boyfriend. Yeah, you heard that right. That’s what the guy said.”
“So she might not be waiting for Zou.”
“Might not.”
“Does Zou know that? Do his enemies?”
“Good questions. We might have some answers soon. By the way, Gina’s a brilliant actress. I wouldn’t have gotten the information without her. Gina showed the gallery owner photos of our daughter, told him how much we missed her. Little Selena’s at boarding school, by the way. My mother insists and it breaks Gina’s heart. She gave a desolate little sigh and said that Bao-Yu was really fortunate to have her daughter with her.”
Rafe snorted. “Gina and children? There’s a picture.”
“Don’t tell the gallery owner. The man’s eyes teared up.”
“Fuck me. Perfect. Where are you meeting Bao-Yu?”
“At the gallery.”
“If she comes with her daughter, mission accomplished,” Rafe murmured.
“If she doesn’t, or if her boyfriend’s along, we’ll have to follow them home.”
“Any thoughts on whether Zou arrives in Brisbane?”
“Too soon to tell,” Webster replied. “The surprise boyfriend changes the dynamic.”
“Along with the possibility that Bao-Yu needs money.”
“Zou could be heading somewhere else,” Webster noted.
“And it’s a big fucking world,” Rafe grumbled.
“His money’s disappearing, I hear. That should help.”
“Maybe. There’s still the black banking sites. If he doesn’t show up in Brisbane, I’m already thinking Dubai.”
“I have personal contacts there. If you need names let me know,” Webster offered.
“Thanks. I’ll run it by Carlos, maybe Gora too. His Russian might be able to fill us in on the banking rules in those countries that don’t have any. You and Gina working together okay?”
“Are you asking me something?” Webster’s voice was softly sardonic.
“Just trying to be polite. Forget it.”
“I already have. I should have some news for you later today.”
Chapter 18
At that moment across the world, a helicopter landed in a field 260 kilometers southwest of Shanghai. Two top-end, off-road Range Rovers were waiting: four men in one, three in the other, the SUV’s rear compartments loaded with backpacking gear.
Stepping down from the chopper, Zou ducked his head and sprinted to the lead car. The helicopter was already airborne when Zou climbed into the front passenger seat and minutes later, the Range Rovers were speeding down a four-lane highway in a south/southwest direction.
If all went according to plan, he’d reach Bangkok in forty-five hours. Perhaps sooner if he flew out of Luang Prabang, the old colonial capital in northern Laos. It would depend on the security at the airport, although it should be lax. The UNESCO world site was known for its natural beauties; the travelers who converged on the airport were armed with cameras, not weapons.
Zou was on his new encrypted cell phone in a matter of minutes, his voice crisp and sharp as he spoke. He was pissed for a number of reasons aside from the current conversation furrowing his brow. A number of his bank accounts had been closed, Bao-Yu wasn’t answering her phone, and Colonel Chen, a rival since his youth, had just been patched through by his adjunct and was now informing him that his leave had been canceled.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Zou snapped. He couldn’t say Chen was a liar, although he was.
“General Hu canceled all leaves.”
“Fuck you,” Zou exploded. “Who the hell do you think you’re talking to? If General Hu canceled all leaves, my adjunct would have informed me. Now leave me the fuck alone. I’ll be back in ten days.” He cut off his caller mid-word. “Keep to the speed limits,” he ordered the driver. “We don’t want to draw any attention.”
The driver nodded, not talking his eyes off the road.
The all-terrain vehicles had been chosen in case they had to leave the main highways and travel rough. Zou had also taken the precaution of having a logo of a fictitious backpacking company painted on the car doors to facilitate border crossings. If they drove the entire 1,795 kilometers to Bangkok, they’d cross into Laos first, then Thailand. Eight men on a trekking holiday would be relatively innocuous. Particularly in northern Laos and Thailand, where backpackers from around the world come to holiday.
“I’m going to sleep now, Jin. Don’t wake me,” Zou said.
The driver shot him a look.
“If you can’t handle it, wake me,” Zou added, smiling faintly, sliding his seat back down, and stretching out his legs and hiking-booted feet.
“I thought you wanted this trip to stay under the radar.”
“I do. We take out the fucker Ganz, who cost me a fortune, and any of his friends who get in the way, and if Chen sticks his nose into my business, we’ll put him in the ground too. Just don’t kill anyone while I’m sleeping,” Zou said drolly. Then he shut his eyes and within seconds fell into a restful sleep for the first time in days.
The men in his party had been handpicked, personally recruited years ago, and were consummate professionals. Particularly his young driver, whom he’d saved from a precarious life on the streets when Jin was just a boy. They all could operate with minimum orders and, most important in the fluid world of political cunning, their loyalty was beyond reproach. None had family; a necessary component to the specific activities assigned them. And not to be discounted, Zou paid them extremely well.
Gina and Webster entered the art gallery in Brisbane. Since they were ostensibly on holiday, they were dressed casually but expensively in slacks and jackets, Gina’s large red Hermès purse slung over her shoulder.
“We’re a little early.” Webster took off his sunglasses, sliding them into his jacket pocket, and smiled at the gallery owner, a thin, youngish man in a fashionable skin-tight suit with short pant legs that displayed his colorful socks. “But my wife is hoping to see the artist’s young daughter, so she’s a little anxious.” He turned his smile on Gina. “Aren’t you darling?”
“Don’t tease me.” Gina pouted prettily. “I miss our little Selena. Seeing another young girl w
ould be lovely, that’s all.”
“Would you like me to call and see if Bao-Yu is bringing her daughter?” The gallery owner was interested in pleasing the couple who might purchase several more works for their office building.
“No, no, don’t bother her,” Gina murmured. “But if I might have a cup of coffee while we wait, that would be super.”
Gina’s spoke with a posh, upper-class British accent that Webster found admirable for a woman raised in France. The distinctive, soft diffidence, the partially swallowed words—it was perfection. He nodded as the owner glanced at him. “Thank you, coffee for me too. Come, dear.” He took Gina’s hand. “You were admiring that Hong Kong harbor painting the other day. Let’s have another look at it while we wait.” And he drew her away toward a large work on display across the room.
“This is too easy.” Gina spoke in her normal voice as they walked away. “I’m getting jumpy.”
Webster grimaced. “Makes you wonder all right. Locked and loaded, babe?”
“You better believe it.” She sucked in a breath. “Think the lady’s gonna show?”
“The gallery owner’s hoping like hell she does. Me too. Easy or not, I’d like to get this done.” He flicked his finger at the masterful harbor view as they approached it. “By the way, if you want any of these paintings, I’m sure Rafe wouldn’t mind.” Webster knew the two were friends.
She tipped her head, left and right, squinted at the realistic depiction. “I might. Bao-Yu’s damned good. This is magnificent.”
“I like the mountain landscape.” He pointed to his right.
“Get it for your wife.”
“I’m not sure she’d like it.”
Gina glanced at Webster from under her lashes. Was that tell-tale puzzlement in his tone or nothing more than a simple statement of fact? If he weren’t so good-looking she wouldn’t have given it a second thought. Nor should she now; he’d said he was happily married. “If you don’t want it, I might buy them both. Not with Rafe’s money, but my own. I get paid well.”
“We all do in this line of work.”
Maybe he wasn’t just a computer genius after all. “Hacking you mean.” For some undefinable reason she wanted clarification.
“Yes, that,” he said.
She’s been reading nuance too long. Visual, verbal, physical tells kept her alive. And for a fleeting moment she felt like shaking the truth out of him. Not likely with his size, but there was something nakedly false in his simple reply. She wondered if Rafe would tell her if she asked.
An hour later, Bao-Yu hadn’t yet arrived. The gallery owner had tried calling the number she’d left many times without success. Gina and Webster had exchanged cryptic glances over several cups of coffee, conversed in a desultory fashion with the increasingly agitated gallery owner, and were silently calculating their next move when the front door opened.
The eyes of all three waiting people turned to the entrance.
Bao-Yu, her daughter in tow, dashed through the doorway apologizing breathlessly in English touched with a faint Aussie twang. “Our rental car…broke down and for…some reason,” she panted, moving swiftly toward the trio, who’d all come to their feet, “my mobile phone…didn’t have a signal.” Stopping a few feet from them, she drew in a breath, glanced down at her daughter, who was hiding behind her skirts, gave the little girl’s head a pat, and looked up again. “I’m so sorry. Thank you for waiting.”
“Not a problem. We’ve been enjoying your other paintings on display.” Webster’s voice was well-mannered, his smile polite. Although he was just beginning to question her lack of painting supplies when her yet-to-be-confirmed boyfriend strode in carrying a large wooden box.
“My husband had to pay the taxi,” Bao-Yu explained, smiling fondly at the handsome young man who had more than a hint of Manchurian size in his large frame. “He’s going to watch our daughter while I work on your painting,” she added as he set down the box, scooped the young girl up in his arms, and murmured something to the little girl that made her giggle.
“How nice,” Gina said, glancing up at Webster, the words my husband, our daughter ringing in her ears. “Isn’t that nice, darling. I’ll get a chance to enjoy the company of a young girl again. Our daughter’s in boarding school,” she explained.
“Speaking of our daughter,” Webster interjected, “I promised Mother I’d get back to her with our plans for Selena’s birthday and I forgot. If you’ll excuse me for a minute.” He pulled his cell phone from his pocket. “I’ll be right back. You know what color I need to match my office wall, darling. Help Bao-Yu get started.”
Webster was standing outside the door a moment later, his phone to his ear, waiting for Rafe to pick up.
“Did she show?” Rafe asked.
“She did. With a man she called her husband and their child.”
“Is the man for real or from central casting?”
“Good question. He could be one of Zou’s bodyguards, but if he is, he must be lovable. She looks at him all starry-eyed.”
“You’re kidding. Love?”
“I’d bet the bank on it. And he’s a big dude, so a public snatch and run is definitely out. We’ll follow them home.”
“Can you and Gina handle it or would you like help? The pilots are standing by. Or we can contract some local help.”
“Please, no strangers. We’re fine. Gina’s worth at least a couple guys.”
“And you’ve been known to take on more than your share. I still owe you for those Triad dudes who jumped us that night in Macao. But be sensible. If you need help, ask. This is about winning, not hero shit.”
Webster laughed. “I gave up heroing the first time I came to a gunfight without a gun. Don’t worry, I’m a pragmatic guy. Bao-Yu weighs maybe ninety pounds, the little girl doesn’t signify as a problem. It’s just the dude who’s the unknown. But Gina and I know what we’re doing. We might have to wait until dark though, depending on conditions.”
“A few hours one way or another doesn’t matter. You found them. That’s all that counts. The plane’s waiting on the tarmac whenever you’re ready. And thanks. Taking Bao-Yu off the board will be useful, although whether it affects Zou’s plans is debatable now.”
“No shit. I’m getting a strange vibe. I can’t imagine Zou allowing this.”
“Let’s hope the mistress is just smarter than we think.”
“Rather than this is a wild goose chase.”
“Relax. It’s too early to fret. Worst case, we at least check off a name. Fewer players on the field. That’s a plus any way you look at it.”
“True. Hear anything from Zou?”
“Radio silence. But he’ll show up sooner or later. Call me when you know something. Zander is waving at me. Gotta go.”
Zander was beaming when Rafe walked into his small cell. “It must be good,” Rafe said.
“Couldn’t be better. We’re hacking the highway speed cameras in all directions out of Shanghai and what do you think we saw?”
Rafe laughed. “I’m gonna fucking kiss you.”
Zander held up his hand and grinned. “Back off, dude. You’re not my type.” He waved toward the wall of monitor screens. “Come look though. It’s a beautiful sight. Considering the odds.” At Rafe’s sharp glance, Zander added, “Speed cameras aren’t plentiful in China.”
There it was. Clear as day. Two Range Rovers coming up out of a ditch onto the highway at the same time a helicopter lifted into the air from the open field behind them.
“Jesus, tell me this isn’t staged,” Rafe murmured, leaning in to scrutinize the markings on the vehicle doors.
“Nope, it’s real as fuck. We checked the license numbers on the chopper, talked to the people at the high-rise helipad downtown. Same. We might be able to zero in through the car windows with a little more work. Could take a while though.”
“Do it, just to be sure.” Rafe straightened. “They’re heading south?”
“South, southwest. Bangkok, I�
��m guessing.”
“Once they cross the Chinese border, let me know. I want to make sure we’re there to greet Zou properly. How much time would we have once they enter Laos?”
“A day, maybe more if he stops,” Zander answered.
“He could take a flight out of Jinghong or Luang Prabang. That would cut down our time.”
“Both are chancy. Especially Jinghong. Zou has enemies up the whazoo.”
“Agreed. Then they might take to the back roads if they’re worried about pursuit. Are we good there?”
“Yup. We’re tracking on satellite now that we found him,” Zander noted. “He’s not going anywhere we can’t follow.” Rafe had a partnership share in two satellites, one of many profitable business ventures in his portfolio.
“Anyone who’s going to Bangkok or parts east with us better make any calls they have to make. I’ll talk to Carlos, see what contacts we have on the ground in that part of the world and check in with Dao. She has informers everywhere. It’s great news though.” Rafe gave Zander a thumbs-up. “Made my fucking day. Zou’s back in our crosshairs.”
Carlos was on his phone when Rafe walked over. Taking a seat, he waited while Carlos finished arranging for two of his Basque friends to come in from the warzone in Libya. “You look happy,” Carlos said, ending the call.
“Zander found Zou. He’s on an expressway driving south.”
“Fucking A,” Carlos breathed. “That was fast.”
