by Ty Patterson
‘How did you swing that?’
‘We’ve got our ways.’
Zeb and his team waited inside the bar wearing bulky jackets to hide their Glocks and the armor they wore. Radio contact with those outside.
Keling arrived at eleven pm. A ring of bodyguards around him as he moved swiftly through the crowd, down the hallway and into the second room that Zeb had seen.
‘He’s here,’ he told the others.
‘We saw,’ Beth, chuckled. ‘His men asked us to move along. We said no. No one tells the cops to move.’
‘We’re inside the security network,’ Meghan, crisp, leaving the jocularity to her sister. ‘Phone jamming will begin once you give the word. CCTV cameras will shut down at the same time. Got a drone in the air, too, checking out nearby traffic. Everything’s in place.’
An hour later, Zeb drifted to the hallway, past the diners. Reached the first two bodyguards who looked up as he approached.
‘Private party,’ one of them told him, raising a hand to bar his progress.
With a sinking feeling, Zeb saw that it was a party.
A big crowd outside the room Keling had disappeared into. Balloons in the air. Someone’s birthday? His?
No. The twins were thorough. They had checked that out. Keling had passed his forty-second birthday a few months ago.
‘Whose birthday?’
‘It’s a private party, sir,’ the sentry said firmly. ‘Please go back to the bar.’
‘How long will it carry on.’
‘A few hours at least. Now, please leave.’
Zeb left and joined Broker.
‘We can’t take him out here,’ he briefed his team and broke it down quickly.
‘It must be one of his girlfriend’s,’ Beth replied after a while.
‘He’s got more than one?’ Bear asked.
‘Yeah. Two.’
‘Back on topic,’ Meghan interrupted them. ‘Zeb, the next time we see him here will be in a week’s time. We can shadow him, see if we can take him out some other place –’
‘No,’ Zeb replied. ‘We’ll do it tonight.’
Chapter Sixty
Improvisation.
No mission went to plan. Every operation had to accommodate the unexpected.
‘He and his guards,’ Zeb explained, ‘will be on a high, after the event. They’ll be relaxed.’
‘Yeah, so?’ Meghan skeptical.
‘We take him out on the street. Outside, where you’re parked, is a straight stretch of road. Not very well lit. Those guards said this gig will go on for a few hours. That means there will be less traffic. That’s our opportunity.’
‘We don’t know how many vehicles his crew will have.’
‘Two at the least. One in which he rides, another for his guards.’
‘How’ll this go down?’
Zeb explained.
* * *
At two am, the birthday party broke up. Revelers started leaving in twos and threes. The night club had shut down an hour earlier and the celebrating crowd didn’t take long to disperse.
Keling was the last to emerge from the establishment. He had an arm around each of his girlfriends. Two bodyguards in front of him, four behind. More heavies spread out.
The Garuda’s boss climbed into a dark-window Range Rover. Rear seat, his women giggling, petting and cuddling him. Two bodyguards climbed in the front and the vehicle set off.
Another SUV fell behind with four men. A third vehicle wheeled out from the street with three heavies and became the escort vehicle, leading the convoy.
A mile passed. The street became dark.
And then the convoy braked hard when a police SUV skidded in front and blocked their way.
‘Who is it?’ Keling roared from his seat. ‘Who dares stop me?’
‘It’s the police, sir,’ his driver replied.
‘Find out what they want. Probably money,’ he grumbled, ‘they always want more.’
The driver got out and jumped back with a shout as an SUV crashed into the lead vehicle.
Another loud smash from behind, a van T-boned into the third ride.
* * *
Zeb, Bwana and Roger raced out of the first SUV. Pumped shots randomly into the escort. More firing from behind as Broker and Bear subdued the third vehicle.
The two bodyguards were no slouches. The driver got his gun out and fired a round at Bwana that missed him by inches and then he was slammed back against the vehicle as Zeb pounced on him and crashed his head against the metal frame.
The second protector fired three rounds. One hit Roger in his armor, the second went wild in the night sky and the third ripped past Zeb’s forearm. He didn’t get a fourth shot. He collapsed when Meghan planted a round in his forehead.
Bwana pulled open the rear door and manhandled Keling out. His girlfriends screamed and clawed at him ineffectively. The Garuda man tried to resist. He swore and cursed, punched and kicked, but a left hook left him limp and reeling.
Bwana dragged him to the van at the back. The remaining operatives hustled inside and the vehicle set off with Chloe at the wheel.
Seven minutes, from start to finish, with surprise and shock as the main weapons and only a few scratches as injuries.
‘Keling,’ Zeb lifted the preman’s head by his hair. ‘Where’s the List team?’
Chapter Sixty-One
Keling didn’t respond immediately. He swayed on the bench seat which ran along the side of the vehicle and regarded them drunkenly as the van sped into the night.
Zeb, Bwana and Broker facing him, bracing themselves against the roof. Roger, arms crossed, on the opposite bench seat. Meghan and Beth, checking out the preman’s phone. Bear at the front, with Chloe.
‘What list?’ the Garuda man replied, voice slurred, still dazed from Bwana’s blow.
Zeb uncapped a water bottle and flung it over the man’s face. ‘The team that runs software programs. That’s responsible for all these killings. Where is it?’
The Indonesian eyed them, swallowed. ‘I don’t know anything of that.’
He screamed the next moment when Zeb kicked him in the groin. He fell off his seat and lay on the floor, moaning.
‘Stop,’ he groaned when Bwana picked him up and dumped him on the seat. He heaved and dry-retched, wiped his mouth and panted, sucking large breaths through his mouth. ‘Do you… know… who I am?’ he gasped.
‘Lot Keling, head of the Garuda. A criminal,’ Zeb replied, contemptuously.
‘People fear me,’ he wheezed. ‘They jump to do what I say. Even now, my killers will be hunting for me. They will turn Jakarta upside down. Release me immediately and I will let you live. You don’t know who you’re messing with –’
His head rocked; an agonized yell escaped him when Broker slapped his face. ‘Kill us later. Answer our questions now.’
Light filled the back of the van. Another vehicle.
‘A truck,’ Bwana peered through the dark window. ‘Some distance away. No threat to us.’
He looked back when no one replied. All eyes were on Zeb who had removed his Benchmade and was balancing it on his fingers.
‘I don’t have time or patience,’ he told Keling softly. ‘You can do this the easy way or the hard. I will ask again. Where are those software people? Who is behind you?’
Keling seemed to gather himself. He spat blood. Arrogance returned to him. His eyes turned scornful.
‘You’re American? We were told you might come,’ he said.
Who’s we? Who told him? Zeb looked at his friends who shrugged and then back at the preman.
‘Who am I?’ he asked.
‘Carter. You look different from your photograph, that’s why I didn’t recognize you in my bar. When you were enquiring about the party room.’
‘He’s right,’ Meghan called out. She turned the phone towards them. Zeb’s picture filled the screen. ‘Sent from a burner phone.’
‘Who sent that?’ Zeb asked.
‘W
hy should I answer?’ Keling replied defiantly. ‘You’re going to be dead soon.’
That truck behind us. Is it his? A trap?
‘Beth,’ he kept looking at the Indonesian, ‘you can trace that vehicle behind us?’
‘On to it, if Bwana gives me the plate number.’
‘Belongs to a freight company,’ she answered after a while. ‘No connection to Garuda.’
‘Let’s kill him,’ Roger said in a bored voice. ‘He’s got nothing to tell us. He’s wasting our time.’ He reached for his gun and that split second of distraction was when the gangster acted.
He lunged out of his seat, reaching for the Benchmade. He wrapped a palm over Zeb’s wrist, was turning the blade around when Zeb retaliated with a throat punch that sent him gasping and flailing back to the floor.
Keling got no respite. Broker picked him up and threw him on the seat, easily, casually, as if he weighed nothing. He joined Zeb who crouched, facing the Indonesian. ‘We can do this all night,’ he said conversationally. ‘At some point, you’ll die.’
‘You don’t have all night,’ the gang boss spat. ‘If I don’t check in with Zhen, he’ll know I have been attacked. He’ll know you are in Jakarta and he’ll move the List team away.’
He clamped his lips tight immediately, aware that he had spoken too much.
‘Zhen, huh? Taniwan Zhen?’
The Garuda head sneered. His courage was returning.
‘How do you want to die,’ Bwana joined his friends, crouching next to them. ‘I can make it as slow as you want. A quick death? You passed up your chance, buddy.’
He took the knife from Zeb and tossed it in the air and caught it.
Keling’s eyes followed it hypnotically.
‘You know what this will do to your testicles? This point will rip through soft flesh-’
‘I am a master of torture. You’re teaching me?’
‘He’s a master of torture,’ Bwana repeated. ‘Let’s see how tough he is,’ and jammed the knife deep in Keling’s right thigh.
The Indonesian screamed. He sobbed. He clawed desperately at the seat and slid to the floor when the operative pulled out the blade. He shivered and hugged himself, whimpering brokenly.
‘I’ll ask once more,’ Bwana whispered. ‘Tell us about Zhen. Who sent you that photograph?’
He tapped the knife and Keling yelled again, jerking spasmodically.
‘Please!’ he cried hoarsely. ‘Don’t.’
His face was wet with perspiration and sweat when he raised it. His body shivered. His fingers trembled when he grasped at the seat to raise himself.
Bwana picked him up and placed him on the bench and stared at him with cold, unmoving eyes.
No sympathy for Keling. The Indonesian ran a criminal gang, didn’t deserve their pity.
‘Zhen and me…’ the Garuda head gasped. ‘It’s appearances.’
‘What do you mean?’ Zeb asked. He didn’t move, no inflection to his voice, but the gangster reared back.
‘People think Garuda and the Brotherhood, that we rule over the slums. Divide the territory. But really, it’s Zhen who controls it. That’s how he wanted it.’
‘He? Who?’
‘I don’t know who he is. I have only spoken to him twice. He arranged a deal between…’ he broke off with a sob and clutched his leg when the van jolted. ‘between Zhen and me. I give up all my slum territory, in return for some of Zhen’s business. But no one knows of it. Just three of my people and some on the Brotherhood side.’
‘How does he sound?’
‘I don’t know,’ he shrank when Bwana loomed forward. ‘I swear. Whenever he calls, his voice sounds strange. Like metal.’
Some kind of voice altering device, Zeb thought.
‘Zhen trusts him. He has met him,’ Keling rushed, as if anticipating his questions. ‘The Brotherhood man met me last year. Said there was a friend who was interested in us making a deal. I didn’t believe him. My gang and his fight each other always. Then he offered part of his business. Take it he said. In return, give me your slum territory. He offered a lot of money too.’
‘What did he tell you about this man?’
‘Nothing, just that he was a new partner. He isn’t from Indonesia. The way Zhen talks about him, I guessed that much.’
‘Is he Russian?’ Zeb asked, recollecting the CCTV clip from Chernihiv.
‘I don’t know anything about him. I told you, his voice is unrecognizable.’
Words were flowing out of Keling easily, as if he had realized his peril.
‘Your cybercrime people, your hackers, what about them? You have them, don’t you? You run all kinds of phishing, porn blackmail.’
Keling swallowed, looked away. He flinched when Bwana made a move and held a hand up weakly as if to ward off another attack.
‘Iya,’ he admitted. ‘Zhen took all my people. His gang does more than mine. It attacks banks, hacks governments in Asia. That was part of the deal. I would give up that business to him as well.’
‘He spoke to you about these killings?’
‘No…’ Something flashed on his face.
‘What is it?’ Zeb asked him impatiently. ‘You want us to knife your other leg?’
‘I met him once when the killing in that flea market happened. I told him it was bad for our business too. He laughed. He said that was his business. I asked him about it, but he didn’t say anything more.’
No thrill raced through Zeb. When he met Meghan’s eyes, they were empty. They had some proof that Zhen was responsible for the killings. He probably runs List Asia. But it didn’t feel like something to celebrate about.
‘This mystery man. He’s the one who sent you my photograph?’
‘Iya. He called me three nights back. Said you might turn up. That I should capture you and if that was not possible, let Zhen know.’
‘You have his number?’
‘Zhen’s? He changes it frequently and texts me his new number.’
‘What about that other man?’
‘Tidak,’ No. ‘He calls me. Number is hidden always. Zhen might have a contact for him. I asked Zhen about it, he said if I want to live, I shouldn’t ask too many questions. This, to me!’ Keling sounded affronted. ‘My gang is second only to his and yet he threatened me. Only then I realized how powerful this other man must be.’
‘You’re sure he’s responsible for these killings?’
‘He said that line that time. I didn’t dare to ask him again. I don’t want to know about it.’
‘Where are his software people?’
‘In the slums. In the territory I gave up.’
‘Here?’ Beth pushed between them and showed Keling her screen, the Cakung shanties that Sebastian had been checking out.
‘Iya. How do you know about this?’
‘This section is yours? Bordering the river on the east, that road to the west?’
‘Iya.’
‘It’s not big.’
‘It’s the location,’ Keling boasted. ‘No one can approach it without my people knowing about it. If anyone comes from the river, we’ll know. Any stranger entering from the west my people will report about him.’
‘Zhen has kept it the same way?’
‘Tidak,’ the Indonesian shook his head. ‘He has cleared out an entire section of that slum. No resident stays there. Here,’ he jabbed a finger, near a busy road. ‘From this point onwards, until the river, that’s Zhen’s territory now. No civilian stays there. No one is allowed to go there.’
‘Your people are involved in that killing?’
‘No. My people, they’re now his, are good, but not that good. I think that mysterious man provided him the technical people for this. I don’t think even his engineers could do something like this.’
‘And they’ll be there? In that base?’
‘I think so. Zhen spends every evening there. It’s the safest place in Jakarta. He has set up a generator, power lines, his men patrol the place.’
&nb
sp; ‘The houses still look flimsy,’ Beth mused.
‘It’s what’s inside that has changed.’
‘You are telling us a lot,’ Roger spoke from behind. ‘Why? You’re scared of dying?’
‘No,’ Keling bared his blackened teeth. ‘It’s you who will die.’
‘You’re our prisoner. None of your people know where we are. Heck,’ Roger grinned. ‘I don’t know where we are. Only our drivers know.’
‘Zhen will find out.’
‘He doesn’t know we have you.’
‘That’s where you are wrong,’ Keling hissed. ‘I check in with him every day. I should have called him half an hour back. He’ll know something’s wrong.’
Bwana got to his feet, flexed his shoulders, making the inside of the van feel small.
He took Keling’s phone from Meghan and handed it to the gangster.
‘Call him.’
Chapter Sixty-Two
Lot Keling moistened his lips. It dawned on him that he had overplayed his hand.
He twitched when Bwana caressed the bloodied Benchmade.
‘You think Zhen is bad. Believe me, we are worse. Make the call.’ Bwana spoke normally, which made his threat more frightening.
The Indonesian took the phone with trembling hands. He scrolled through his text messages and opened one. Zeb snatched the device from his hand, read it, nodded and gave the phone back.
‘Call,’ he said.
‘Masbro,’ buddy, Keling greeted Zhen when the call connected.
‘Speaker,’ Zeb mouthed.
The Indonesian fumbled with buttons and Brotherhood man’s irritated voice filled the van.
‘Iya, Iya, I am fine,’ Keling replied to his angry questioning. ‘Those crazy Bali Boys, they attacked me just outside the bar. You know we’ve got an ongoing fight with them.’
Zeb turned to Beth who gave a thumbs up. There was a feud between Garuda and the Bali gang.
‘No, we killed them all,’ Keling said casually, as if he was discussing the weather. ‘I’ve got a few scratches, nothing more. No, Carter didn’t turn up. I’m keeping a close watch. Okay, I’ll call tomorrow.’
