Wake Me When It's Over

by Cheryl A Head

  Amy and Lin stepped from the door. “Let’s go,” she said. They walked purposefully on the vinyl runner toward the door, carrying the chair between them. No one tried to stop them as they passed the rows of workers and when they reached the exit, Amy stepped out first and held the door for Lin. They made it down the driveway to the rear of Amy’s car and out of view of the warehouse. Amy spoke to Charlie on Lin’s phone and gave her the address of the warehouse, then returned the Blackberry to Lin who clutched it to his chest. There was nothing to do but wait, so Lin sat in his attached chair. He didn’t have a coat, and it was beginning to snow, so Amy draped her jacket around his shoulders, then sat in the driver’s seat with the door open and turned over the engine to get some heat. Beyoncé’s voice blared from the radio before Amy adjusted the volume, then looked at her own phone. There was a missed call from Mr. Kwong.

  “Amy, where are you?”

  “I’m very close, Mr. Kwong. I’ve been calling you all afternoon.”

  “I know, I know. I’m at the office now. I need you to send my notes to the directors before our call.”

  “Yes, sir. I’ll be there very soon.”

  Amy stepped out of the car to check on Lin. The boy was still cold and shaken, and his eyes stared up at her with barely veiled shame. She wished she had a blanket to put around him.

  “Do you like Beyoncé?” she asked.

  “No. But I could hear that you do.”

  “I like her because she’s a woman who makes her own decisions, and knows how to make her own way.”

  “Is that the kind of woman you are?” Lin pried, forgetting his predicament for a moment.

  “You’d be surprised.”

  “Maybe I would,” Lin said and offered a weak smile. “But, when I’ve seen you at Cobo, you seemed so, so traditional.”

  “I have to. For my job.”

  “How did you know where to find me?”

  “I didn’t know you were here. I was meeting someone. It was just a lucky break that I found you.”

  “More like a blessing,” Lin said.

  Charlie and Don arrived quickly and rushed to Lin’s side. He tried to stand, but collapsed into the chair.

  “Take it easy,” Don said. “I’ll get these cuffs off.”

  Amy grabbed her coat from Lin’s shoulders, touched him on the arm and prepared to leave, but Charlie intercepted her.

  “What is this place?”

  “I was told it is a facility of Guí Motors. Our emergency contact told me to report here when Mr. Kwong didn’t come to the office.”

  “There doesn’t appear to be any security.”

  “I didn’t see anyone in charge. There are a bunch of young computer workers inside. I’m sorry, Ms. Mack, but I have to go now. Mr. Kwong needs me.”

  “Thank you, Amy,” Charlie said.

  “May the ancestors bless you.” Lin used Mandarin for the formal farewell greeting. He looked up at her from his perch on the driveway.

  Amy smiled at him. “You’re welcome. I was pretty sure you spoke Mandarin.”

  Charlie leaned into the window of the car. “Cynthia Fitzgerald said you would be a friend.”

  “Miss Fitzgerald also spoke to me of you. I don’t know what’s happened here, but I’m glad I could help.”

  Amy drove off to the strains of Beyoncé’s “Me, Myself and I” and was probably too far away to hear the shot that separated Lin from the chair that had been his companion for hours.

  “Let’s go in and find out what’s going on,” Don said.

  “We’ll come back later and do that. I want to get Lin to the emergency room.”

  At the hospital, Lin answered the curious questions of the medical staff by saying he’d been mugged, but didn’t want to report it to the police. Lin’s x-ray showed no broken bones. He received a couple of stitches near his ear and swallowed a couple of heavy-duty painkillers. While they waited for his discharge papers, Lin gave Don a BlackBerry tutorial. At eight o’clock, Charlie heard from Mandy.

  “Where are you?”

  “Don and I are at the hospital with Lin.”

  “How is he?”

  “He was beaten up, but he’s okay now.”

  “Did you find anything at Heinrich’s house?”

  “No.”

  “You still think he’s involved?”

  “Yes. Lin said the man who beat him was the one he saw with Heinrich, and the description fits Dudiyn. The guy beat Lin until he admitted he was working for me, and he also asked Lin if he was spying for the Chinese.”

  “All Heinrich seemed to want to talk about at the gym was the Chinese. He didn’t even try to make a pass at me. He just kept driving home the idea that the Chinese delegation was up to something, and we should keep an eye on them.”

  Charlie looked at her phone when she heard the buzz of another call coming in. “Hold on a minute, will you?”

  “Charlene Mack.”

  “You forgot my phone number already?” Tony Canterra asked jokingly.

  “Believe me, I’ve got all your numbers, Tony. What’s up?”

  “We need to talk.”

  “About what?”

  “It’s too much to discuss on the phone.”

  “Well, as a matter of fact, I have a couple of things I need to discuss with you. We may have a lead. A warehouse on Morrell Street. Where Guí has a bunch of computer workers. One of our people was held there tonight, against his will.”

  “Can we meet somewhere? Away from Cobo?”

  “Sure. Why don’t you come to my hotel room?”

  “Oh, how long I’ve wanted to hear those words.”

  “I’ll have the team there.”

  “I see. Okay, I’ll be there in about an hour.”

  Charlie switched calls. “Mandy?”

  “I’m still here.”

  “That was Tony; he wants a meeting. I’d like you there. It’s at my hotel room in an hour.”

  “Okay, but I’ve got to make myself presentable for the famous Tony Canterra.”

  “You’re always presentable.”

  “Not after a patrol shift, a fitful nap, and a weight workout. I’m a sweaty mess and I need a quick shower.”

  “Don and I are dropping Lin back at my place, and then we’ll see you.”

  “I’m really sorry about the boy getting hurt, honey.”

  “So am I. And somebody’s gonna pay.”

  “Drink, Canterra?” Don asked, answering the knock at the door.

  “Only if you’re having one.”

  “I am. Just one. I’m back on patrol in a couple of hours.”

  Tony entered the room and smiled at Charlie. “Where’s Gil?”

  “He’s on the way over.”

  Then Tony locked his gaze on Mandy. “I don’t think we’ve met.”

  “No. We haven’t. I’m Mandy Porter.” She had been sitting on the edge of Charlie’s bed and rose to extend a hand. “I’m working with the Mack team; good to meet you at last.”

  Tony feigned embarrassment. “Oh, so you’ve heard about me? Well, these two have known me a long time.” He stared again at Mandy, remembering something. “I’ve heard your name. You’re with one of the local forces, aren’t you?”

  “Grosse Pointe Park,” Mandy said. “I’m on leave to work this case . . . as a favor to Charlie.”

  Tony paused, remembering other things he’d heard, his brain forming a question.

  “There’s been another casualty, Tony.” Charlie abruptly changed the subject.

  “Oh?”

  “Mandy and I found one of the Cobo food inspectors dead at his house. He’d been shot.”

  “You’re rechecking the documents for all the food vendors?”

  “We’ve got two people on it.”

  “I have some news, too,” Tony said, leaning against the wall near the door and taking a sip of his vodka.

  Charlie understood how these so-called briefings from federal agents worked, and so did Don. Tony would parse out facts to mai
ntain control and to protect the interests of Homeland Security. The Mack team would need to ask pointed questions if they wanted any real information. So Charlie got into the game. She walked over to the minibar and retrieved a tiny ten-dollar Glenlivet. They all watched as she upturned one of the glasses, dropped three cubes of ice, one at a time, into the glass, then slowly poured the scotch.

  “You want one?” she asked Mandy.

  “No. I’m sticking with water.”

  Charlie clinked glasses with Don as she passed him seated at the desk, and again took her perch next to Mandy on the bed. “So, what’s your news, Tony?”

  A knock at the door was Gil. He rushed into the room.

  “Did I miss anything?”

  “Tony has some news,” Don said dryly. “Drinks are in the minibar.”

  “Don’t mind if I do,” Gil said. “What’s going on? More trouble?”

  “Heinrich is your bad guy,” Tony announced. “The director informed DADA of that tonight.”

  “I think we already figured that out,” Charlie said.

  “So you’re saying the Chinese delegation isn’t the threat?” Don asked.

  “They have their own agenda, but no they aren’t a threat.”

  “Guí Motors has a warehouse full of Chinese workers at an off-site location. One of our freelancers, a kid who just started shaving, was beaten up badly and taken to that warehouse where he was handcuffed to a chair.” Don’s voice was working its way to an angry pitch.

  “We know about the warehouse. Heinrich leased it for Kwong. They’re working together, but not. It’s complicated, and I can finally tell you more,” Tony said, looking at Charlie.

  “Let’s hear it. What’re they after?” Charlie asked.

  “It’s a Matryoshka ploy.”

  “Like the nesting dolls?”

  “Very good. You remember your Russian briefings. Only this time it’s more like Chinese boxes. On the surface, the Chinese are stealing trade secrets from U.S. automakers. We know that’s what Guí Motors is engaged in. But, within that scheme is a power struggle between the Chinese government and a billionaire from Hong Kong. It’s that box we’re worried about.”

  “Is that where the terror threat comes in?” Mandy asked.

  “Yes. We’ve tracked activity— weapons purchases, some real estate deals— back to this businessman who seems to be playing out his own agenda. We think he may own Heinrich.”

  “What’s this guy after?” Gil asked

  “He’s a former member of the legislative branch of the People’s Republic of China and was ousted four years ago. It diminished his family’s standing among the inner circles of the government and undercut his business. He’s been planning a retaliation against China’s central committee for years.”

  “And this is the year the North American International Auto Show is honoring China for accomplishments in auto manufacturing, with a recognition from the U.S. secretary of commerce,” Charlie said.

  “Right. And if a disruption to the auto show can be tied back to Guí, it will be a huge political and economic disaster for the Chinese. What better way to retaliate.”

  “What’s in it for Heinrich?” Mandy asked.

  “A very fat paycheck. Millions of dollars. He’s been employed by Guí Motors to help with the cyber-espionage and he’s working for the billionaire to disrupt the auto show. He’s being paid by both teams on the field.”

  “And he’s on Spectrum’s payroll too. It’s a triple-cross,” Mandy assessed.

  “How did DADA take it when they got the news?” Charlie asked.

  “Not well. It was a hard blow to finally know they’d been the first link in his chain of deceptions. Still, they understand the situation they’re in now.”

  “What’s your evidence that Heinrich is at the center of things?” Don asked.

  “A first-person account.”

  “What first person?” Charlie asked.

  Tony paused to take another sip. Charlie could see the wheels moving as he contemplated his response. She shared a look with Don as the silence extended, and put a hand on Mandy’s knee to unnerve Tony. Taking note, he shifted his weight and then resumed his pose against the wall.

  “I’m not sure that’s relevant. But we’re certain the information we have is valid.” Tony hedged.

  “How is Dudiyn involved?” Charlie asked.

  “The same billionaire hired Dudiyn to assist Heinrich.”

  “Is anyone else involved?” Gil asked.

  “We don’t know for certain. We don’t think so, but we can’t rule it out.”

  “Okay. So, what do you suggest we do?” Charlie played along.

  “Continue working with Heinrich. The next twenty-four hours are critical. He’s thinking maybe his plan is in jeopardy, but he’s not sure. Don’t pressure him.”

  “What is his plan?” Charlie asked.

  “We don’t know the details, but maybe an attempt to detonate explosives.”

  “He wants us to think the Chinese are the ones we should be watching,” Mandy said.

  “I’m sure he does. So go along with that. Let him think you believe him.”

  “And what will DHS be doing?” Charlie asked.

  “We’ll be working the back channels. Monitoring communications, keeping the secret service informed. We’d like to embed a couple of agents into your security patrols. You can tell Spectrum you brought on more freelancers. We don’t want Heinrich to know Homeland Security is formally involved.”

  “How big is this threat?” Charlie asked.

  “We think we’re looking at a bomb.Not nuclear, thank God, but something big enough to cause fatalities and debilitating damage,” Tony said.

  “So, we are talking terrorism,” Gil stated.

  “It’s serious business. That’s why I convinced the director to let me fill you in.”

  “If it’s that serious, why not just shut the show down?” Mandy asked.

  The room was silent for nearly a minute. Don drained the last of his drink, and Mandy stood up and shoved her hands into the pockets of her khakis.

  “It’s a damn good question,” Don agreed.

  “China’s president is visiting the U.S. in April. It’s a big deal, because it’s his first official visit. The White House doesn’t want anything to interfere with that visit. Then there’s the State Department. They’re in some tricky diplomatic negotiations with China on human rights and playing a role in ensuring a nuclear-free North Korea. The U. S. wants to maintain a good relationship with China, and a part of that is playing up China’s role as an international auto manufacturer. That means the Detroit Auto Show will not be canceled.”

  Charlie imagined her notes on a table, shifting and sorting them into a logical pattern. Facts, what-ifs, players, and questions. “Is Kwong your witness?” she asked.

  “No,” Tony said quickly.

  “We’ll take that as a yes,” Don quipped.

  Chapter 9

  Friday, January 6, 2006

  Auto Show: 2 Days

  Charlie looked at those jammed around the conference table: the Mack partners, the Cobo insiders, and the freelancers, which now included two DHS agents, one a senior agent who had already been badged. Charlie, Don, and Gil had talked long into the night with Tony, deciding what to share with whom. Two things they’d agreed not to share with the larger group were any mention of bombs, and Tony’s warning about Heinrich.

  “People walking the Cobo corridors who are not recognized are to be stopped and questioned. Delays at the loading dock are going to be even longer, because now one of the Mack group will personally inspect incoming deliveries flagged by Judy and Carter,” Charlie reported.

  “Ms. Hillman, all food vendors have been rechecked, but each will need to provide to you the documents of their employees, from dishwashers to chefs. No exceptions.”

  “I understand, Ms. Mack.”

  “I’ll need each of you supervisors to provide me with your department activity schedules
for tomorrow. I want to know what work is being done, who’s doing it, and what time it’s happening.”

  “I can collect those,” Ty offered.

  The staff trusted Tyson. He was one of them. They understood the added duties being piled on, but shaken by the death of Garry Jones, none of them complained.

  “Good idea. Get those to Ty as soon as possible today.”

  As a concession to Heinrich’s red herring, security personnel would be stationed near the offices and exhibit areas of Guí Motors. However, the warehouse where Lin had been held captive was off-limits. Tony had informed them that the land and building were registered to the People’s Republic of China.

  Hoyt Timberman had some concerns about integrating the new freelancers into the patrol groups. Charlie had introduced the two women to the other freelancers as “highly experienced.” The agents were supposed to be undercover, but their first-day outfits shouted, “Hi. I’m a federal agent.”

  “You’ll still be managing the logistics of the security patrols, and I think the best thing to do is to put at least one of our regulars with the newcomers.”

  “Well, alright then,” Hoyt said, flipping through his schedule.

  “We have another new protocol,” Don said. “Each patrol team, and supervisors in each of the Cobo service areas, will receive two-way radios. Pressley, you’ll have one too,” Don said, catching Tyson’s eye. “We’ll use channel three for all our communications.”

  “Anybody can listen in on those,” the senior agent noted.

  “That’s true. But our BlackBerrys aren’t perfect and, if for some reason Cobo’s communication systems go down, we’ll need the redundancy,” Charlie explained.

  “We’ve already had a snafu with the Berrys,” Judy added. “The walkie-talkies will give us a lot of coverage; they have a range of thirty-five miles. The frequency is already set. You press this button to speak, and that’s all there is to it.”