White Ghost

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White Ghost Page 30

by Steven Gore


  “Everything will be in my hands when I lead her out of there. I promise.”

  “One more thing. I want Ah Ming there.” Gage pointed at the floors of investigators below. “Have a couple of our people make pretext appointments with him from one P.M. until five P.M. They don’t need to show up, just keep Ah Ming tied down there.”

  “Either that or slash his tires.”

  Gage smiled. ‘I’ll leave that up to you.”

  After she left, Gage called Alan Lim to see if he could get Lucy’s supervisor out of the office.

  “Kung is a conscientious guy,” Lim said. “You’ll need to get him far enough away that he can’t just toss in his mah-jongg tiles and race back to East Wind if someone calls.”

  “How about a long weekend at Lake Tahoe?”

  “I’ll have my wife pitch the idea to his wife. She’s a blackjack addict. She’ll make him go.”

  “Tell him you won the trip in a raffle. It comes with a limousine and a suite at Harrah’s.”

  Lim laughed. “That’ll work. He’s the kind of guy who’d rearrange his day just for a free lunch.”

  TUESDAY AFTERNOON GAGE received a text message from Alan Lim. He’d finalized his plans with Kung. The men and their wives would be chauffeured away on Thursday morning and wouldn’t return until Sunday night, or until FBI agents knocked on his hotel room door.

  Gage didn’t want to risk his fatigue putting other drivers in jeopardy on road, so he worked his phone. He first called Casey to tell him the place and time the container would arrive. In the fog of chemotherapy, he didn’t realize the impact the news would have on Casey.

  “Are you telling me Ah Ming is having the heroin delivered right to his own business? No middleman? No cutout?”

  He hated making Casey feel like an idiot. He wasn’t one.

  “That arrogant son of a bitch. All the while we were watching East Wind, tons of heroin was passing right by us? Under our noses? This is embarrassing.”

  “You can’t know everything.”

  Casey and Gage made arrangements to talk on Thursday evening to finalize the plans for the Friday delivery.

  He then called General Zhang.

  “How is life as a national hero?”

  “Just delightful. I’m going to Beijing next week to have a prized, but very cheap-looking medal hung around my neck.”

  “And your Hong Kong business?”

  “As you Americans say, it’s just like money in the bank.”

  “I take it Lew is still cooperative.”

  “Of course. What alternative does he have? A couple of heroin traffickers were executed over the weekend. I had someone slip the newspaper article under his cell door.”

  “I’ll need him to make the calls about this time tomorrow.”

  “I’ll let you know when they’re done.” Zhang chuckled. “How’s our Thai friend?”

  “The one with the hole in his shoulder or the other one?”

  “I don’t seem to recall anyone with a hole anywhere.”

  “She’s fine. I’ll be calling her soon. Is there a message you’d like me to pass on?”

  “Not yet. I think I’ll give her heart time to grow fonder.”

  “Good plan.”

  His final call was to Kai.

  “Good morning,” Gage said.

  “Good evening.” Kai’s voice was throaty.

  “Did I call too early? You sound like I woke you up.”

  “Not really. I was just lying here thinking.”

  “About what?”

  “I met with Somchai yesterday to talk about the divorce. He’s pathetic. He thought he could intimidate me. I think he held back a little because Cobra was waiting outside. The only way I kept my composure was by imagining him as a katoey—one of those transvestite dancers down in Pattaya—except not so cute.”

  “What’s going to happen?”

  “We’ll have a short war, and I’ll make a bunch of calls crying to you. There are a lot of things I could have said to him, but I decided not to. There was nothing to be gained. Maybe I’ll write a thinly disguised novel someday. Humiliate the son of a bitch.”

  “Just leave my thinly disguised name out of it.”

  “I might throw in Eight Iron’s. Cobra tells me that his life has become real exciting. The DEA and the Thai narcotics police raided one of his yaba labs. They were working out of a tire plant in Samut Prakan, south of Bangkok. They seized a million yaba tablets—a million—the biggest methamphetamine seizure ever.”

  “He’s a lot bigger than I imagined. Is there any reason to think Eight Iron’s problem will link to us?”

  “Nothing either Cobra or I can see. He was brought down by an inside informant, a lab rat who got arrested for molesting a little girl and then rolled on him.”

  Gage heard the rustling of sheets as Kai got out of bed. “What are you doing? I don’t think it’s time to get up over there.”

  “My neck is sore. I think I slept funny, or maybe I pulled something when I reached for the phone—whatever makes it your fault.” Kai yawned. “Any news about Lew and Taiwan?”

  “I spoke to Zhang earlier—”

  “You mean the car thief?”

  “You sound less hostile.”

  “Sorry, I misspoke. The fucking car thief.”

  “It looks like things are okay on that end. I’ll call you when everything is over, probably Saturday morning, your time.”

  “Have you started treatment?”

  “The time had come.”

  “Please be careful on Friday.”

  “Don’t worry. From now on I’m just a bystander.”

  CHAPTER 85

  At noon on the day before the container’s arrival, Lucy walked out of East Wind and strolled two blocks south where Sylvia and Gage were waiting in a van to drive her to meet the owner at Sunny Glory. Lucy sat in the front passenger seat next to Sylvia who was driving. Gage remained out of sight in the back, sweat beads forming on his forehead, fatigue setting in, the chemo infusion still wracking his body.

  Viz, Gage’s surveillance chief, was already set up across the street from Sunny Glory in the back of a step-side cargo truck.

  Gage gave Lucy a bill of sale forged by Alex Z for Chau to sign.

  “Remember, he’s already gotten his instructions from Lew, so he’s got no choice but to transfer ownership of the container from Sunny Glory to East Wind.”

  Lucy’s hands vibrated as she took it from his hands.

  “What if he asks about Ah Ming or Ah Tien and why they aren’t the ones contacting him?”

  “He won’t. As far as he is concerned you’re just a clerk delivering papers. In any case, he was picked by Ah Ming because he’s a guy who doesn’t ask questions.”

  “It felt easier lying my way into East Wind.”

  “Maybe because you knew you could run away if things got difficult.”

  Lucy sighed and shook her head as she looked back and forth between Gage and Sylvia.

  “I don’t know how you two do this kind of thing all the time.”

  “The more you do it, the easier it gets. It’s just acting.”

  “But the other people aren’t actors. They’re real.”

  Gage smiled at her. “They don’t know you’re not. That’s why it works.”

  Sylvia parked the van in sight of the front door to Sunny Glory, then Lucy got out and walked inside. She emerged a few minutes later, trying to suppress a grin. She only succeeded when she looked up and noticed Sylvia glaring at her.

  “I’m sorry,” Lucy said, after getting back into the van. “I don’t know whether I was smiling because I was nervous or because it was so easy.” Her face fell, and she shook her head. “I could have ruined everything.”

  Gage called Viz. “Did you see it?”

  “You mean the Miss America moment? It cracked me up, but I didn’t see anybody paying attention.”

  “Stay around to see if anyone did and tries to follow her, then set up at InterOcean aroun
d three o’clock. We’ll get there just before four.”

  “I’ll call you when I’m in position.”

  “Now,” Gage said, turning his attention back to Lucy, “tell me what happened.”

  “Mr. Chau invited me into his office and told me Mr. Lew called. I handed him the bill of sale and as he looked it over he asked me my name and how long I had been at East Wind. Then he signed it. He seemed relieved. He had the receptionist make a copy and gave me the original back.”

  Gage reached out and took it from her.

  “He’s a dirty old man.” Lucy reddened. “He tried to look up my skirt when I sat down.”

  “That means when he thinks about it later, he’ll focus on something other than the bill of sale and what your face looked like.”

  Lucy grinned. “Should I roll up the waist of my skirt and make it a little shorter when I go into InterOcean?”

  “Let’s not draw too many conclusions from one experience and overdo it. Is everything set up for you to get away from work this afternoon?”

  “I told everybody Mr. Kung said I could leave early for a doctor’s appointment. And since he’s not around to contradict me, nobody will say anything.”

  They dropped off Lucy near East Wind and returned to Gage’s building to wait for the run at InterOcean Customs Brokers.

  Gage went to his office and, for the first time in his career, napped at his desk.

  At 3:30 he and Sylvia arrived back at the spot near East Wind where they had earlier picked up Lucy.

  At 3:45 Lucy walked up to the van and got in.

  Gage handed her more shipping papers created by Alex Z and added the original and a copy of the bill of sale signed by Chau.

  “Don’t try too hard,” Gage told her as they drove toward InterOcean. “Remember, you’re a clerk delivering papers. That’s the part you’re playing. It’s a little more complicated than last time, but don’t play it larger than it is. The key documents are the bill of sale and the power of attorney. They’ve already seen other versions of the Taiwan agricultural clearance, the bill of lading, and the insurance form, so the background for what you need to do is set.”

  “Make sure she doesn’t do that goofy grin thing again,” Viz told Gage when he called to confirm that he was in position outside of InterOcean. “I almost spilled my coffee.”

  Gage glanced toward Lucy. “I think she learned her lesson. I’ll call you when we’ve cleared the area.”

  Sylvia and Gage dropped Lucy off in front of InterOcean, a one-story office building that covered most of the block, then found a parking space.

  Ten minutes later, she still hadn’t returned.

  Gage called Viz.

  “I can’t tell what’s going on,” Viz said. “I don’t see her in any of the office windows facing the street.”

  “If she doesn’t come out in five minutes, make up some pretext and go in.”

  “I’ll call you before I do it.”

  Sylvia’s phone rang right after Viz disconnected.

  “May I speak to Mr. Kung, please?” a woman’s voice asked.

  “You must have the wrong . . . Lucy?”

  Sylvia handed Gage the phone.

  “Yes, Mr. Kung. I’m at InterOcean. They’re telling me they need a power of attorney from Sunny Glory in addition to the power of attorney from East Wind.”

  “That’s wrong. Once East Wind has a bill of sale from Sunny Glory, they own the contents. They can do whatever they want with the container. Sunny Glory is out of it.”

  “Yes, Mr. Kung.”

  Gage overheard Lucy telling the InterOcean clerk, “Mr. Kung says all we need is the bill of sale. Once title is transferred, a power of attorney from Sunny Glory is useless. It’s not their container anymore.”

  “Mr. Kung,” Lucy then said to Gage, “the clerk is new and he isn’t sure.”

  “Reach for paperwork and tell him that Mr. Kung wants you to take it to Alan Lim instead.”

  Gage heard shuffling papers, then Lucy passing on the message.

  “Mr. Kung, he looked over the paperwork again and says it looks okay. He’ll take care of everything.”

  “Tell him the big boss at East Wind is counting on him and will send more business his way. And make sure he sees the note telling them to hire Golden Mountain Transportation to haul the container. Insist they do it. Hint that the East Wind president chose them personally.”

  A few minutes later, Lucy emerged from InterOcean. She wasn’t smiling. She walked to the van and got in.

  “I’m glad that’s over. The clerk was an idiot. I could see everything falling apart because he didn’t know what he was doing.”

  “Maybe,” Gage said, “maybe not. Maybe he was just frightened. Whether or not they know Ah Ming is a crook, they know he’s big in their world and tough. That’s the kind of thing that can make people panic.”

  CHAPTER 86

  Everything set up?” Ah Ming asked his nephew, sitting across the breakfast table in his Hillsborough mansion at daybreak.

  Ah Ming viewed Clarence Tung, the oldest son of his sister in Taiwan, as a lesser evil. Time had been short to replace Ah Tien, and trust seemed more important than competence. Until this point, Tung’s job had only been to manage East Wind’s money, and Ah Ming had paid his nephew’s way through the accounting program at San Francisco State to give him the skills he needed to do it. One skill he brought on his own: how not to ask where the enormous amounts of money Ah Ming made were coming from.

  A day earlier, Ah Ming told him—and no look of surprise appeared on his nephew’s face.

  “I checked the Hanjin Global Tracking system,” Tung said. “The container ship docked a few minutes earlier than scheduled. All the containers will be offloaded by this afternoon. Ours should be released between noon and two. We’ll start picking up the garlic and heroin from Sunny Glory at about five thirty.”

  Ah Ming nodded.

  “I’ll be doing the surveillance myself, along with four others.”

  “I don’t want them showing themselves for any reason unless someone makes a move on the container. If that means they have to shit in a pot in the back of the van, then that’s what they’ll have to do.”

  Clarence’s face flushed, then he nodded.

  “Text me a sixty-six code when the container arrives. Otherwise I don’t want any communications with anyone—Sunny Glory, InterOcean, even with the Hanjin Web site—until everything is done.”

  After Clarence left, Ah Ming waited ten minutes before heading out to ensure that he arrived at East Wind at the normal time. There would be nothing in his actions this day that would distinguish it from any other. Everything would be ordinary and routine. That was why he was invisible to the white ghosts. It was the reason he’d never been caught. And why he’d never be caught.

  CHAPTER 87

  At 9 A.M., Gage drove over to the FBI and ICE raid staging area in a warehouse near the San Francisco Airport, a faded metal building with peeling paint and a refuse-strewn sidewalk concealing a temporary armory. Parked inside he found three Ford Explorers and the van that would carry the ICE search team into East Wind. A communications desk stood in one corner and next to it a GPS monitor to track the device installed on the container. A drug-sniffing beagle lay on the floor with half-closed eyes.

  “Hey, old fella,” Gage said to Casey as he walked up, then pointed at the twenty young agents checking their weapons and adjusting their body armor. “I didn’t realize these kids were allowed to bring their grandfather along.”

  Casey sighed. “And I feel like one.”

  “Don’t underestimate yourself. I bet you can still bench-press any two of them.”

  “Or three of you,” Casey said, surveying Gage’s body. “You look even skinnier than last time.”

  “That’s why I’m glad to be out of this thing.”

  “We’ve got everything covered. You can sit back and enjoy the show.” Casey pointed at the other agents. “They’re like a machine; you’ll be
amazed at what they can do and how they do it.”

  “What are you calling it?”

  “Operation Snow White.”

  Gage smiled. “I was hoping for the Fall of the Ah Ming Dynasty.”

  Casey laughed. “I like that better, but it’s too late to change.”

  Gage gestured toward the monitor. “What’s the latest?”

  “ICE said the East Wind container arrived at the port early this morning. The agent told me the load was originally supposed to go to a company called Sunny Glory. It was only transferred to East Wind yesterday, while it was still on the water. The paperwork came in late in the afternoon.”

  “If Ah Ming suspected he was under investigation, he’d have let it go to Sunny Glory so there wouldn’t be a direct link to him. He must be pretty confident in this load.”

  “Big mistake.”

  “What time will ICE release the container?”

  “Between one and two. We didn’t try to expedite it. It’ll take its turn just as if no one was watching. We just made sure it wouldn’t be selected for a random inspection.”

  “I hope they’re not going to try to follow it. Ah Ming may have people watching, maybe even try to divert the thing en route to another warehouse.”

  “I didn’t want them trailing it on the ground.” Casey grinned. “So I let them use what they call a high-flying surveillance platform.”

  “What we civilians call a drone?”

  “Yeah. Don’t you just love these guys? It’ll be hovering at about four thousand feet, invisible from the ground. ICE will just be watching, unless something goes wrong. If that happens, we’ll”—Casey gestured with air quotes—“interface with them.”

  Casey glanced at his watch. “The only hang-up is the duty judge. He’s insisting on a hard copy of the search warrant before he authorizes the search. It’s going to cost us some time we can’t afford to lose. He got burned on a telephone warrant when the agent misplaced the recording. I’ve got an agent sitting outside his chambers and as soon as the container starts heading toward East Wind and we’re sure the heroin is in it, he’ll submit it.”

 

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