by Don Easton
“They’ve just met a Vietnamese man,” said Sonny. “He arrived in a taxi. They are ordering more drinks.”
Minutes later, Sonny found out that the Vietnamese man had flagged the taxi down off the street. “Don’t worry,” said Sonny. We will find out who he is.”
It was early evening when the Russians and their Vietnamese escort left the hotel and crossed a nearby plaza to a restaurant for dinner. After dinner, Sonny reported that the three men had gone to the Thang Long Water Puppet Theatre.
Sonny explained that this theatre was world renowned. He said the puppeteers stood behind bamboo screens in a large pool of water and used bamboo poles to raise puppets out of the water to complete a performance.
Interesting, thought Jack, but nothing to do with our investigation!
Following the theatre, the two Russians caught a taxi back to the hotel while the Vietnamese man took a taxi elsewhere.
It was ten o’clock at night when the two Russians arrived in the lobby and checked at the desk for messages. There weren’t any.
Sonny put on the headphones as the Russians entered their room. “They are angry,” he said. “They expected to receive a message and didn’t. Now they are tired and are going to bed—wait they are phoning ... no, they have just asked to be awakened at nine o’clock again.”
An hour later, Sonny took off the headphones and turned up the volume to the familiar sound of snoring.
Sonny received a call on his own phone. When he hung up, he said, “Good news for you. The Vietnamese man went to an apartment. We think it is his place because he had a key to the door. His name is known to us. He is the captain of a boat and has been suspected of smuggling drugs in the past.”
Jack breathed a sigh of relief. Much better news than hearing they came for a puppet show.
Sonny broke off his surveillance team with the order that they be back at the hotel by seven in the morning as usual.
It was after midnight when Jack was awakened from his sleep by the sound of a telephone ringing. It took him a second to realize that the sound was coming over the monitor and not from his own room. Sonny quickly got up and put on the headphones.
Jack quickly put on his pants and ran next door to summon Laura.
The minutes ticked by as Jack and Laura watched Sonny, who was scribbling notes as he listened. “They are arguing,” he said. “Both Russians have been talking on the phone. They are angry. They are saying to wait until tomorrow. The man they are talking with ... he is speaking English, but his accent is Vietnamese.”
“Maybe the boat captain?” offered Jack.
“No,” said Sonny. “The Russians mentioned having met the boat captain on time tonight. He is asking why this person did not meet them earlier.” Sonny pressed the earphones closer to his head and said, “The caller said it is the same place as last time and that he would meet them out front.”
“Out front of where? Here or the place?” asked Jack.
“I don’t know.” Sonny muttered something in Vietnamese and ripped off the headphones. Jack didn’t need it translated to know that he swore.
“They’re on the move?” he asked.
“Yes ... and I have no team to follow!”
“You have us,” said Jack, grabbing his new helmet. “I’ll stoop. Laura—”
“I’ll get it,” she said.
“Wait,” ordered Jack. Above them they could hear the sounds of the Russians’ voices. “They’re already outside their room,” whispered Jack. “Give them a few seconds’ head start. If they see us coming out of here at this time of night at the same time as them, the jig will be up.”
When the sound of the Russians’ voices disappeared from above, Laura grabbed her conical hat and joined Jack and Sonny as they ran down the stairs. The lobby was empty and they hurried out the front doors of the hotel.
A thick mat of black clouds covered the night sky and pieces of garbage were gusting down the street, still wet from an earlier rain. The hotel was well lit, but, within a few metres, the street disappeared into clusters of dark shadows amongst merging streets and alleys.
Sonny ran toward his car, which was parked nearby. “I’ll circle the block,” he said. “You walk, if you see them, call me on my cell or wave me down.”
Seconds later, Jack and Laura saw a taxi nose out of an alley in front of them and they stepped back into the shadows.
“See anything?” asked Jack.
“Not sure.”
The taxi sped off down the street and Jack and Laura saw two figures sitting in the back seat.
“Damn it!” said Jack, watching as the taxi put on its turn signal.
Headlights from another car appeared in the alley and Jack and Laura watched.
“Sonny’s got ’em,” said Laura.
Jack saw Sonny zoom out of the alley without stopping and speed down the street, turning where the taxi did.
The street was now quiet, void of any human activity except for Jack and Laura.
“That had to be them,” said Jack.
“Now what do we do?” asked Laura.
“Back to my room and wait.”
They were just about to enter the hotel when Jack shoved Laura up against the wall and pulled her conical hat to one side as he nestled his face into her neck.
“What the ...?”
“Shut up. It’s them,” whispered Jack.
Laura heard the hotel door open and the sound of Fat Man’s voice beside her as he spoke angrily in Russian to Moustache Pete.
Laura remained where she was, peeking past the side of Jack’s face as the Russians walked past them and stood nearby on the sidewalk. “They’re just standing there,” she whispered. “Glancing back at us ... or maybe the lobby. Looks like they’re waiting for someone. What should we do?”
“What kind of perfume are you wearing?” whispered Jack.
“You ass!” whispered Laura. “How could ...”
Jack covered his mouth as he sneezed before whispering, “I have allergies to certain cosmetics. Sorry.”
“Oh.”
“Why do you think I asked?”
“Because you’re a man—you know why!”
Jack snickered and said, “You’re right ... and if I keep standing like this, I’ll forget why we’re here. Come on, straighten your hat and make a break for the lobby. Just don’t look back before we reach the desk.”
Jack and Laura hurried inside the lobby and the desk clerk said, “Please don’t use the elevator. It’s sticking between floors.”
Jack had no intention of using the elevator and he took out the cellphone that Sonny had provided him and quickly punched in the numbers. “Busy,” he told Laura.
Outside, the Russians were looking down the street and stepped forward as a set of headlights appeared.
Jack hit the redial button again. “Still busy,” he sighed. “Sonny’s probably trying to get help. Doesn’t know he’s on the wrong guys.”
Jack and Laura watched as a taxi drove up, but the Russians waved for it to continue and stepped back.
“They’re waiting for someone to pick them up in a car,” observed Jack, heading over to talk with the desk clerk.
“Do you drive a car?” asked Jack.
“No. Motor scooter,” he replied.
“Is it at the hotel?”
“The red Honda Helix parked out front,” he replied, suspiciously.
“I want to rent it from you.”
“No, sorry, I cannot do that.”
“I will pay you fifty American dollars.”
“Fifty! I don’t know ... I—”
“That’s fifty an hour, I mean.”
The clerk smiled. “Here are the keys. Take your time. There is much to see in Hanoi. May I recommend the lounge at the top of the Sheraton? It has a beautiful view of the city at night.”
Laura tapped Jack on the shoulder and said, “Their ride just arrived.”
As Jack and Laura scrambled onto the scooter, Jack pushed the redial button a
gain and heard the busy tone.
“We’re on our own,” he shouted to Laura.
Oh, man ... Laura wrapped one arm around Jack’s waist and, with the other, hung on to her conical hat as Jack gunned the gas and the engine roared to life.
chapter twenty-seven
Jack used all his concentration to dart amongst the tangle of pedestrians and traffic as he followed the car onto a busy thoroughfare through the heart of Hanoi and an area that did not sleep at night.
He skidded to a sideways stop to avoid hitting a woman who was carrying two large baskets balanced on each end of a pole as she crossed the street. The woman uttered harsh words at them in Vietnamese. Seconds later, he was once more weaving, twisting, and turning until he was in a position to keep only a couple of vehicles between him and the car they were following.
Eventually the car left the crowded streets and entered an area where homes, apartments, and businesses were in darkness. Jack slowed, dropping farther behind ... and the farther behind he was the more tense he felt. It was a delicate balancing act. Too close and you are spotted. Too far and you lose them.
The car’s brake lights came on and it slowed to a crawl. Jack looked for a place to turn off, but there was none and he knew he would have to drive past. Just as he neared the car it turned into a narrow lane.
Jack continued past the lane and was about to make a turn to come back when Laura said, “I saw the flash of the brake lights in the lane. They may be stopping.”
Jack parked the scooter and both he and Laura hurried to the entrance to the lane and peeked around the corner. The street was in complete darkness but they could see the silhouette of a car parked halfway down the lane.
“You going to try Sonny again?” whispered Laura.
Jack looked around and did not see any street signs. “Do you know where we are?” he asked.
“Not a clue.”
“Likewise. Come on,” said Jack, shutting off the phone. They entered the lane, slinking close to the buildings as they moved toward the car. When they got close, Jack whispered, “That’s the car, but nobody is inside.”
Laura scribbled the car’s licence plate on the inside of her forearm. That way, the information was out of sight and perspiration would not make it illegible later.
Jack glanced around and saw several apartment buildings were crammed into the area where the car was parked.
“Not after all this,” lamented Laura. “You don’t happen to have a spare street light in your pocket, do you?”
Jack held his breath and listened. Let me hear a voice ... footsteps ... the sound of a lock ... anything! His eyes searched the darkness to no avail.
“Let’s try the closest apartment building,” whispered Laura. “If we hurry, it might not be too late to hear a door or something.”
They started toward the apartment as the moon appeared for the first time that night. Jack felt his pulse quicken and he grabbed Laura by the shoulder. “Over there,” he whispered. “Two—no, three people walking.”
Laura looked where Jack pointed. She saw the targets briefly outlined in the moonlight just before they disappeared inside another apartment building.
Jack and Laura followed and entered the dilapidated building. It was five stories high and built of cement blocks that had never been painted, inside or out. They heard the sound of the Fat Man’s voice muttering in Russian from the stairwell leading up.
They crept up the stairwell after them. The scrape of the men’s shoes echoed on the steps from above. Jack saw that the stairwell was open to the corridors, with only a single overhead light giving a dim glow from the middle of each corridor.
Jack motioned for Laura to pause and they heard the sound of the Fat Man panting as he slowly climbed upwards. They allowed a little more space between them before continuing. On the fourth level, they heard the men leave the stairwell and walk down the open corridor.
Seconds later, Jack heard the sound of a knock on a door. He peered around the corner and saw the men being let into an apartment part way down the hall.
“I’m going to give you the cell,” he whispered to Laura. “Go back out and try to figure out where we are and call Sonny. Make sure you’re far enough away when you do. I don’t want anyone hearing an English voice.”
Laura nodded and took the phone and started to descend the stairs. Seconds later, she returned and grabbed Jack’s sleeve. “Come on, hurry,” she said. “Someone is coming up the steps behind us.”
Jack and Laura went up another level and listened to the sound of two people approaching from below. Their footsteps indicated that they also headed down the same corridor as the Russians.
Jack and Laura went back down to watch and saw the figures of a woman and a child venturing down the hall. The child pointed to the apartment door that the Russians had entered. The woman bent over and whispered to the child who then scurried back toward the stairwell.
Jack and Laura quickly retreated once more and heard the child running down the stairwell toward the exit before returning to their position to watch.
The woman knocked on the apartment door. It opened a crack and a short conversation in Vietnamese took place. The door closed with the woman remaining in the hall.
Seconds later, the solitude of the apartment building came to an abrupt end. The woman screamed in Vietnamese and the door rattled with the pounding of her fists. Voices shouted out from nearby apartments.
Another explosion of voices came from inside that apartment, with a man yelling in Vietnamese while the Fat Man yelled in Russian. Jack heard Moustache Pete say, “Make that bitch shut up!”
“Fuck you!” yelled the woman in the hall. “Give me Chi ... or I’ll stand here and yell all night!”
“She sounds like an American!” whispered Laura.
The woman turned and Jack saw her face and said, “She’s Caucasian all right. Looks like she’s only in her early twenties. Whoever she is, she’s liable to get herself killed if she keeps this up.”
“Just love foreign travel, don’t you?” said Laura.
Jack caught her meaning and replied, “Yeah, especially the part where we’re not allowed to carry guns.”
The apartment door opened again and another heated exchange took place in Vietnamese between the woman and a man in the apartment. A neighbouring apartment door opened and another man stuck his head out to see the commotion.
Seconds later, Moustache Pete appeared holding a girl by the wrist. He flung her into the hall and stepped back inside, slamming the door shut behind him.
The girl started yelling and Jack guessed she was about eleven or twelve years old. The young woman grabbed her by the wrist and started for the stairwell, but the girl was crying and dragging her feet as she tried to return to the apartment.
The woman ignored her demands and spoke harshly in Vietnamese as she dragged the girl down the hall.
Jack and Laura stepped back before following the woman and girl down the stairwell. They stopped at the exit and watched as the woman argued with her just outside the door. The woman cursed in English, but continued to speak Vietnamese.
“What do you want to do?” asked Laura.
Jack shook his head in wonderment and said, “I don’t know who this young lady is, but I think we should talk to her and explain who we are.”
“Could blow our whole case if this gets back to the guys upstairs.”
“She has guts trying to save this kid. I think we can trust her—let’s hope we can do it quietly.”
Jack and Laura stepped out onto the sidewalk and Jack took off the green helmet he had been wearing.
The woman and girl quit talking and stared at the new arrivals.
“Excuse me,” said Jack quietly. “Does this girl speak any English?”
“Not really,” the woman replied,” looking at them suspiciously. “Her name is Chi. She only knows the basic manners and to say hello. Who are you?”
“We are both police officers from Canada.”
<
br /> “From Canada!” the woman said in amazement.
“Yes. We are what are sometimes referred to as Mounties. My name is Jack Taggart and this is my partner, Laura Secord.”
“I know what the RCMP is,” she replied. “I was born in Calgary. My name is Tarah Mulligan.”
“You’re Canadian!” It was Jack’s turn to be amazed. “What the hell are you doing in Hanoi?”
“I was going to ask you the same thing, but first, do you have any identification?” she asked.
Jack stepped closer to discreetly show his badge. Chi knocked Tarah’s arm out of the way and saw the badge.
“Công an!” the child gasped.
Jack knew it was Vietnamese for police and put his finger to his lips, but Chi immediately started yelling and broke free and ran back toward the apartment.
“Laura,” said Jack. “Grab her and shut her up!”
Laura grabbed her around the waist with one hand and put her other hand over her mouth.
Chi kicked and flailed her arms and started yelling again.
“She bit me!” said Laura.
“Slap a sleeper on her!” ordered Jack.
“We’re not allowed to use—Oh, man ...”
Laura wrapped an arm around Chi’s neck, while using her other arm in a pincer-like move to restrict the flow of blood to the carotid arteries in her neck.
“You sons of bitches!” yelled Tarah. “You’re killing her!” she said, making a grab for Laura as the child went limp.
“Jesus, not you too,” muttered Jack, moving toward Tarah.
chapter twenty-eight
“What the hell! Put me down!” demanded Tarah.
Jack set Tarah on her feet and she angrily looked around. She was now half a block away from the apartment and on the street around the corner from the lane.
Chi was standing looking at Laura, who was holding her by the hand and saying, “See? Tarah is okay now. She was just taking a nap.”
