“OK. You got us here. What can you tell us?” Fang was gently insistent. Mei-Li looked on and even though the night was concealing her facial features, exuded her insistence also.
“Mohamed Rayyan is moving a considerable amount of contraband. He was recently caught in a sting operation and as part of his plea, he promised to help us find another young girl captured from Virginia much as we did before,” Spoke started quietly.
Bee, the shortened nickname given to LCDR Rogers for his habit of chewing Beeman’s Clove-flavored gum, continued. “During the initial interrogation, we found out Mohamed Rayyan named a madam who handled several bars in Kuala Lumpur. We followed up on the lead. She mentioned a brothel that had once had a Lian-Na. She said it was such a different name that she remembered it. She also said the girl was very beautiful and didn’t seem to fit the usual girls of that brothel. Now remember, this was almost 11 years ago, so wherever it leads, it may or may not be of help to you.”
Bee and Spoke both knew the hope in Mei-Li and Fang. Lian-Na was Mei-Li’s younger sister, kidnapped some 13 years ago by Triad human traffickers from Hong Kong. The chances of finding her had diminished markedly over the last 13 years as promising lead after lead led nowhere. While a hope, the chances of finding her had also diminished in Mei-Li’s mind. Still it nagged on.
Fang, who would do anything for his beautiful wife, still searched quietly from his law enforcement vantage point. He’d never told Mei-Li about his searching, trying not to get her hopes and dreams up.
Situations and events, however, forced his hand and here they were in Malaysia trying to do double duty, helping Spoke and hopefully helping themselves.
“Can we interview her?” Fang carefully formed the words.
“This is where Mohamed Rayyan comes in. Even though he is under ‘house arrest Malaysian-style,’ he said he will help us look for both individuals, but in return, we must help him diplomatically remove the ‘problem’ he has. Kind of a switch on reality, eh?”
Spoke’s words seemed to sound like the first-time Fang met Spoke. At that time, Spoke had been introduced to the duplicitous aspects of U.S. governmental involvement in the drug trade and the fact that countries professing hatred for the stuff were in fact supporting it. What was the world coming to?
Spoke moved closer to Mei-Li and Fang. “Don’t worry, we will have answers tomorrow.”
Chapter 20
Aqilah Her, Another Step Closer
The sun was broken by puffy clouds providing shafts of light streaming through the jungle around Mohamed Rayyan’s house. Sounds of the jungle awakening gave those late risers a welcome alarm clock that needed little, if any, introduction.
Breakfast was a simple one, more of a Continental breakfast Malaysian style. The fresh fruit was delicious as was the generous selection of juices and Malaysian pastries. Each of the guests smiled and joked about who was going to get the long-term addition to their physiques for the amount they ate. Still the mood had an underlying anticipation of the real cost of this generosity.
How many young lives had been ruined or how much heartbreak had happened somewhere else in the world because of the profits that were feeding them at Mohamed Rayyan’s home? There was a moral dilemma here and it seemed somewhat removed unless they thoughts about it. Yet, thinking about it was the least of their worries now. They had to prepare their minds to find out what they could about little Patricia Susanne Stephens, Mary Louise Duke as well as Gao Lian-Na.
Patty Stephens had been abducted from a Woodbridge, Virginia, sidewalk two months ago. Leads and favors had been called in from all over the world. Those leads led them to Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. Patty’s father worked for the State Department and could prove very influential in helping Mohamed Rayyan remove his sentence for smuggling contraband through Malaysia to Australia and the Western World.
Likewise, Mary Louise’s father, Ohio Congressman Duke, could make many barriers disappear in the path of Mohamed Rayyan’s “return from oblivion” even there in Malaysia. Congressman Duke was recently installed as chairman of the House Armed Services Committee and also as a member of the House Committee on Select Intelligence. Both committee positions gave significant power to a man who just wanted his daughter back.
Funds from contraband taken from pirated ships, forced through the Malacca Straits, seemed to provide its way into Mohamed Rayyan’s bank accounts. Pirates providing these tributes were all part of a huge network that frequented the most heavily transited ‘choke point’ in the Far East. Of the thousands of ships forced through the Malacca Straits, over 8% never made it to their destination with cargo. The Malaysian Navy frequently could not respond in time. Other nations of the Southeastern Asian area felt they did not have the strength or numbers of vessels to counter the pirate actions. Most felt that the piracy protection failures were due to the magnanimous generosity of those running the operations. Lloyds of London many times refused to insure ships and cargo without excessive premiums.
True, occasionally a rogue pirate failed to check in with the powers that be, and was captured. These men were tried and hung for their efforts, unless shot and proudly displayed by the capturing teams. But any operation that stayed on the good side of the military and government seemed to flourish. 8% was a big pot and made a lot of people very happy not to mention wealthy.
Then there were the human smugglers. These individuals preyed on the basest of human needs. They frequently trafficked in the lives of children and teens. To these children, life was nothing but fear, pain and servitude.
Many were sold to brothels throughout the Far East to quench the sexual desires of men who preyed on youth and wanted nothing more than a momentary, cheap thrill or conquest. Some were sold to other buyers from locations around the world to be used as servants or in the case of many in the Middle East, harem members. Such actions were condoned by caliphates and regional Islamic law. Harems were very common. Multiple wives and concubines were accepted customs. Thus, the crime of kidnap was quickly hidden when the children were taken out of the region they were originally from.
The highest premium was for Anglos or Eurasians. Genetics of the combined races meant significantly higher prices than those who were just Asian; as long as they were still virgins. This must be proved at purchase like so much prime meat. It was a sickness that had pervaded and perverted an entire culture and in some cases races. It was a horrid commentary on the lowest forms of mankind. Prime objects were the young females. These children did nothing but live their lives of simple childhood until the nightmare was thrust on them. Besides forcing them into a living hell it destroyed generations.
Since Malaysia was mostly Muslim, many of the cultural and ethnic norms were practiced here as well as in the Middle East. Looking deeper into the lives of many of the Muslim men, national leaders, as well as the more radical believers, showed the unsavory reality that they too had harems. Members of those harems were forced initially against their wills. Like an insatiable, horrible nightmare, they continued to gobble up additional children, boys and girls. It was as if these sick minds felt 5 or 10 were not enough. Eventually all were cast aside like old, worn-out shoes into the trash barrel of life.
The ‘foreign market’ however, was the most lucrative. Saudi Arabia and Yemen were places that seemed to always have a demand for young girls. Sheikhs, getting rich on the spoils of decadence from oil sales to the West as well as products of destruction sold to the highest bidders, always were candidates for sales. It was like a shiny, new toy. Blond, blue-eyed virgins were the highest priced and most desired of those toys. Such girls were treated much better than their fellow captives. They ate better, got better medical treatment and were pampered more. Proof of their virginity was guarded like the treasure it was. It meant tens of thousands more than just another girl. Red-headed girls were rarer and equally sought for both the uniqueness and the feisty attitudes that were generated, according to custom.
These thoughts flooded across Fang’s mind. He ha
ted the human trafficking world. He hated the whole thing. He’d taken an oath to eliminate this filth and scum. Drugs were one thing, but taking the life of an innocent child got his emotions churning. Drugs were frequently a conscious choice that a person made. Kidnapping and the sale of children, however, was sub-human.
Interpol Agents fought these and other crimes globally. They were usually attached to nations needing the assistance of resources unavailable to that nation alone. Fang had more than once fought those who had been part of international crimes of serious consequence. Yes, drugs were a large issue, but human smuggling, kidnapping and the recovery of contraband also played key roles in Interpol’s duties.
Now he was here. He had his own emotional agenda as well as helping his close friend Kevin Marks. Both of them had to be successful. This required his best performance.
After breakfast, and right on time, a black Mercedes limousine pulled up in front of Mohamed Rayyan’s home. The gravel quietly crunching under the limos tires gave way to the sounds of the jungle as the vehicle glided to a stop. The front passenger door opened and a large Malaysian man stepped out and moved to the rear door. He assisted a woman out of the rear of the limo and carefully walked her to Mohamed Rayyan who stood waiting near the steps leading up to the veranda.
The woman that exited the limo was small; no more than 5-feet tall. Her dark bronze skin tone was deeply wrinkled. She walked with a decided limp, favoring her left leg. The dress she wore was brightly colored with a variety of integral patterns and appeared almost too large for her. She wore no belt or sash. A jade necklace trimmed in gold adorned her short neck. Her sunglasses were far too large for her face.
Mohamed Rayyan smiled and welcomed her with a small bow. “Thank you for gracing my humble home,” he said.
The woman replied by bending at the waist and saying, “It is an honor to be invited to the dwelling of such a distinguished and honorable man.”
Both then climbed the white stairs. Haltingly the bent and weathered woman tried to keep up with Mohamed Rayyan. They walked to the door. “Please, do come in,” he said.
They entered and she immediately removed her shoes. Slowly they moved to the sitting room. Three men and a woman stood as she entered.
Mohamed Rayyan spoke, “These are my guests; Mr. Randy, Mr. Kevin, Mr. Fang and Ms. Mei.”
Each nodded as they were named. The woman then spoke, “My name is Aqilah Her. I facilitate the protection of many, including children, who are brought to me.”
Fang gave her a wan smile. Is this the way she justifies robbing the virtue and childhood of these children? She is no better than the scum she works for.
Aqilah went on, “Several years ago, I see a girl named Lian-Na. She visit me and I care for her for a few months. She then go away to Bangkok. I loose track of her but I do know she was very beautiful.”
“Do you know where in Bangkok she went or who she went with?” countered Fang. He spoke distinctly but with an implied emphasis.
“No, she go with man known only as Apinya. He give jobs to many of children that come to me for protection,” she continued.
Spoke looked at Bee and cleared his throat. “Have you seen a young American girl, blond and blue eyed in the last month? She might have given her name as ‘Patty’? Or perhaps another young girl who may have called herself Mary or Mary Louise?”
Aqilah looked rather surprised and glanced at Mohamed Rayyan. He continued his stoic appearance, but Fang, Spoke and Bee all noticed the small ‘tell’ appear at the corner of his eyes. With that tell, he indicated he was willing to give up these young girls, this Patty and Mary, as trade for his freedom.
Aqilah flushed and the game was over. She looked down and said she had seen the girls, but several men had taken them away only three days ago.
Mohamed Rayyan then demonstrated his first real interest in where they had gone and with whom. It was painfully clear he was telling Aqilah if she knew anything, tell it to these men.
Aqilah demonstrated a fear brought on by many encounters with men who had threatened her and had even punctuated the threats with physical violence. She was scared to speak further. She looked at Mohamed Rayyan with imploring eyes as if to say, please don’t make me tell. Those men will kill me.
Mohamed Rayyan gently raised his hand and ended the conversation. He motioned for Aqilah to follow him. Both left the room quietly.
Spoke looked at Bee and then at Fang and Mei-Li. “With this lead, one of two things will occur. Either we will have a solid lead on Patty and/or Mary or Mohamed Rayyan will rot in this place forever,” he said.
He knew he was only verbalizing what everyone thought, so no one replied.
Minutes went by. Soon the soft padding of slippers came across the polished teak floor. Mohamed Rayyan led Aqilah back to the sitting room. It was obvious Aqilah had been crying. Both sat down.
“Aqilah has remembered who took both girls and where they were heading,” he quietly said. “She and I have come to an agreement of sorts to provide you the information you seek.”
Aqilah, head down, slowly began speaking, “Quyen Phuc was man. He said he take good care of girls you seek. He warn me that I be killed and my children taken if I told anyone.”
“Aqilah, where did they go?” Bee pressed with his voice and his searching look.
“She knows she will be in my protection if she reveals the information you seek,” Mohamed Rayyan spoke quietly.
Aqilah began to cry again. This hardened woman, a woman who had seen the horrors and sordid life given to these children, was realizing the life and death situation she was in and she was scared. Yes, many of ‘her children’ had been taken to make their livings on the streets, used and abused by all types of men. Children whose only crime had been to be in the wrong place at the time they were abducted. Fang thought that it was only fair that this woman should fear as those countless children had feared. He wanted to prolong the questioning to make her sweat even more.
Gathering her courage again, she said, head still bowed and voice choked with fear, “He near Satahip in Thailand. He sell many children to Arabs. They possibly be sold. He no keep children long unless he keep for himself.”
Spoke and Bee exchanged looks that screamed the need to get going before the trail became any colder.
“Are you sure of this?” insisted Spoke.
Mohamed Rayyan calmly and insistently responded for Aqilah, “Yes, she is sure. I will give you the information you need to find this Quyen Phuc. He is known throughout the Thai-Malaysian world as a very despicable man, a man that sells only to the highest bidder. This may be the best way to find him. Make him an offer he cannot refuse.”
Extreme malice crossed the face of Mohamed Rayyan. This man must have been his competitor. Later Bee, Spoke, Fang and Mei’Li would find out Quyen Phuc was the one who sold out Mohamed Rayyan. There was absolutely no love lost between these two rivals.
With the icy verbal response, it was evident the conference was over. Each arose and bowed in a small manner to Aqilah. Mohamed Rayyan led her out and spoke to the men that drove and accompanied her. They nodded and led her out to the car. With ‘protection’ in place, Mohamed Rayyan returned to the sitting room.
“Gentlemen and Mei, please come with me to my office.”
They followed and entered an elegantly furnished room. From the hand-carved crown molding at the ceiling to the furnishings in dark stained mahogany, all elegantly polished to a beautiful sheen, the room screamed wealth and opulence. The glass topped desk was adorned with a polished gold and pewter desk lamp that was topped with a multi-colored, Tiffany-style lamp shade. The pen holder centered on the forward edge of the desk above a black padded desk blotter was also pewter with gold accents. The two pens were gold, not brass. The large black padded leather chair was the only seat in the room. It indicated that in Mohamed Rayyan’s presence, one stood. On two of the walls were maps of places all over the world. One was of Southeast Asia. To this one, he motioned for the
small group to observe.
“Here we are,” Mohamed began pointing at Kuala Lumpur. “This is a principal transportation center. He will fly the girls and any other items he desires to Bangkok. From there he will go by road to his home east of Sattahip. This is a well-defended location. He is known for his brutality and his methods of death to those who are uninvited into his world. I have been there several times and he makes a spectacle of those he catches. He hangs them from a large post by their wrists and mutilates them with knives; a thousand cuts. When they are dead, he then turns his dogs loose to further mutilate the corpses. These he leaves up for several weeks to remind others what the punishment is for going against his wishes. There are three principal buildings in his compound, his home, his guards’ house and kitchen and his storage building. The storage building is where he takes the new acquisitions to check them again for quality and characteristics. He photographs them for his potential clientele. Then he forces them to remain in locked rooms until they are sold. Those he wishes to keep, he moves to his house where they have their own rooms.”
All of this Mohamed spoke from memory and followed the explanation again with a warning of Quyen Phuc’s brutality. His compound was surrounded by an electric fence. He regularly demonstrates the workings of the fence to new arrivals by throwing live chickens against the fence and watching the animals writhe and die. These demonstrations clearly punctuate to his acquisitions the nature of his dark power over them. It was rumored that the fence is then turned off for maintenance to keep foliage and small animals cleaned up and removed from shorting out the fence. An important tidbit to know.
Chapter 21
Seeking Their Targets
2030, Near Sattahip, Thailand
Spoke and Bee along with 6 additional SEALS from SEAL Team One, Det B, watched the compound carefully for any hint of activity that could help them avoid detection. At the same time, it became obvious that Mohamed Rayyan had been very thorough in his description of the buildings and layout. Lights were on throughout the compound and in the buildings. This clearly meant that Quyen Phuc feared no one in his rice paddy.
The Worth of Souls Page 16
