by John Ringo
She began crawling to the bathroom while Mike picked up the desk phone, which was off the hook and beeping incessantly. With his pants still down around his ankles, he picked it up and called the front desk. “Yes, this is Mr. Jenkins in Suite 1802. I’m afraid there’s been some damage to the furniture in here . . .”
* * *
Jace let out a low whistle as he escorted Katya into the marbled lower lobby of the Ritz-Carlton, on the ninth floor of the 484-meter-tall International Commerce Building, the tallest skyscraper in the city. “This Than guy sure knows how to live.”
He’d packed smart casual, and was wearing a black linen button-down shirt under a wrinkle-free tan sport coat, chinos, and leather slip-ons. He wore a borrowed dark pair of Tom Ford sunglasses, and had smoothed his black hair back into a small ponytail, looking like a man striving hard to be at least one step above Eurotrash.
On his arm, Katya drew admiring stares with every step she took. Her stunning body was sheathed in an off the shoulder, wine-red cocktail dress that ended well above the knee, with matching high heels. Her blond hair was upswept in a French twist, and a pair of oversize Donna Karan sunglasses in a matching red frame completed the effect of a sophisticated French or German woman out with a man she might have just picked up and brought back to her hotel.
“It all seems designed to distract and confuse people,” she replied.
“More like be astounded at how the one percent get to live,” he replied with a grin.
“Don’t let the trappings fool either of you—remember that we are here on business,” Mike said in his ear.
“Yes, sir.” Jace let his smile fade as he casually checked their six one last time.
Typically, the Kildar was all business. Walking a few yards ahead of Jace and Katya, he kept Soon Yi close to him with a firm hand on her elbow. The Chinese hooker was dressed in a light-blue linen summer dress with sandals on her tiny feet, and looked unusually animated and glowing.
Jace let the Kildar reach the elevators first. Katya and he would follow a minute later, giving the impression that they were two separate parties going to the same restaurant.
Mike and Soon were met by a lovely young female staff member. “Tin Lung Heen restaurant, please,” he said.
“Of course, sir.” The woman led Mike and Yi into the elevator and pressed the button for the 102nd floor.
Jace faced away from anyone who might have been watching and subvocalized, “Team River to Mal, do you copy?”
“Loud and clear, River One.”
“Team River to Firefly, do you copy?”
“Read you loud and clear.” He heard Vanner’s voice in his ear. “Got your date on line as well. Everything’s working perfectly.”
The blond woman exhaled. “I bet Vanner loves to watch—everything.”
Jace let a bit of frost edge into his voice. “I heard he almost got killed during the Florida op. Doesn’t sound like a desk-sitter to me.”
“Maybe that was his problem, too much watching and not enough doing.”
Jace dropped the chill several more degrees. “Fortunately, that won’t be an issue here.”
Katya eyed him coolly. “Your loyalty is—admirable.”
“No, it is well-earned, on both sides. No one I’d rather have covering my back in the shit. Come on, we’re up.”
Another lobby attendant approached them, and Jace named their destination. They were escorted inside, the doors noiselessly closed, and he felt the familiar drop in the pit of his stomach as the elevator ascended.
“This is a fast one,” he said, mostly to calm Katya, who looked a bit uneasy at the rapid ascent.
She shrugged off his reassuring hand. “I am fine.”
Turning away so the attendant couldn’t see his face, Jace said. “Team Jayne, sitrep?”
Oleg’s deep voice filled his ear. “Team Jayne is in position. Everything is quiet down here.”
Everyone was in place: the assault team was secure in the parking structure underneath the building. Vanner and two of his intel girls had the best positions; in a full suite on the 105th floor, coordinating audio and visual for all of the teams and the Keldara on the boat. All they needed now was for their guest to show . . .
When they exited the elevator, Jace hid his smile at Katya’s smothered gasp at the restaurant before them. It was a set in a long, rectangular room on one side of the building, its high ceiling nearly lost in the dimness above. The main room was lit by a large wooden candelabra that resembled a wagon wheel, with a couple dozen white-shaded lights casting a soft glow over the diners. On their right was a black stone wall split horizontally by a narrow window. Through it, the chefs could be seen working their culinary magic. Just past the maître d’s station on their left was a black lacquer shelf that stretched from floor to ceiling. It contained at least fifty small spaces, each filled with a small ceramic jar, and matched an equally tall wine rack at the far side of the room. Beyond the tea shelf was a row of floor-to-ceiling windows that ran the length of the restaurant, giving the diners a spectacular view of Victoria Harbor and Hong Kong at night. The air swirled with exotic, inviting scents, from the aroma of roasting fish to the spicy tang of what Jace was sure was barbeque sauce. Despite his being on point and sweeping the area, his stomach grumbled at the smells.
Jace spotted Mike and Soon Yi being escorted to their private room. He stepped to the podium, placing his hands casually on the edge, just like an imposing American would. “Mr. Morgan and guest for 7:45.”
“Of course . . . Mr. Morgan, right this way.” The maître d’s step was hesitant as he led them into the room. This was probably because Jace and Katya had been last-minute additions on the normally full reservation list. That also meant that someone was going to be upset that their reservation had been bumped, but it couldn’t be helped—there was no way Mike was heading into that room without backup nearby.
The maître d’ led the couple to a small table near the center window. It was straight across from the corridor leading to the private room, Jace noted with satisfaction. He made sure to take the seat with a view of the podium by the simple expedient of pulling the other chair out for Katya. They had an even more amazing view of Victoria Harbor here, with the neon and white lights of the buildings contrasting with clusters of smaller lights on the various boats traveling the waterway. The maître d’ left them with menus and his wish for an enjoyable evening.
A waitress appeared the second the maître d’ left and set down water glasses. “Would you like tea to start, or something from our bar?”
“What would you prefer, my dear?” Jace asked Katya, hiding his smile behind his menu as the young woman tried to parse the selection of white, black, scented, green, and oolong teas.
Finally she looked up to almost glare at him. “Whatever you recommend will be fine, I am sure.”
“We’ll start with a pot of the fifteen-year Puerh, please.” Jace had never tried the fully fermented black tea, but figured now was the perfect time.
“Katya, dear—” was all he got out before a loud voice in his ear made him wince slightly. Jace didn’t need to look over to see an older man with a silver-haired woman protesting loudly over his missing reservation. The maître d’ attempted to handle the incident, promising them a table the moment one opened up. His soft voice was clear to Jace, thanks to the short-term bug he had stuck under the front edge of the podium.
“What?” she asked, snapping him back to the events in front of him.
“I suggest that you smile, otherwise onlookers might think you’re not enjoying yourself.”
“Who said I was?” Even as she spoke, Katya turned on a smile as incandescent as the lights outside. Jace sensed the shift in the tables around them as men and women both couldn’t help looking at the gorgeous young woman and her date.
“That’s more like it—I think.”
The beautiful woman sniffed. “I should be in there, not that Chinese whore. I am . . . better equipped to deal with th
is situation.”
“No doubt the Kildar was worried that your beauty might distract our target too much.” He glanced up from the menu again as he heard the words he was waiting for.
“I have a room reserved for 8:00 PM under the name Than.”
“Yes, sir, the other members of your party have already arrived, and are waiting for you. If you will follow me, please.”
“Speak of the devil, our target’s here.” Jace said to Katya as well as the surveillance team.
“Copy that. Patching you to the Kildar now,” one of Vanner’s intel girls said.
“Go for Mal.”
“River One here. Than has just arrived, and doesn’t look too bothered by the fact that you got here first.”
“Good. Let’s see what he thinks once he meets me.”
Returning to his menu, Jace let his eyes flick up just enough to see the slender Asian being escorted to the private room where the Kildar and Soon Yi awaited him. He made sure he had a clear line of movement to intercept Than if the fixer decided to leave early.
The waitress returned with their tea, and asked if they were ready to order. Exchanging another glance with Katya, Jace rattled off a quick dim sum order, including pork and shrimp dumplings with caviar; Wagyu beef potstickers, light on the black pepper; baked abalone and goose puffs; and the barbeque trio for two. She nodded and departed, just as Arun Than walked into the room.
Jace already had his smartphone out, and turned it on to see the picture of the view from Mike’s surveillance pen. It was a good look at the Thai fixer in the middle of a large empty space. It revealed a man somewhere in his late-forties or early fifties, long and lean, with close-cropped black hair edged with silver at his temples, and alert, dark brown eyes. He was dressed in a tailored, cream summer-weight suit, complete with a Windsor-knotted tie. His body language was relaxed but watchful. However, he obviously wasn’t pleased with the change in plans.
“You are not whom I am scheduled to meet here,” Than said, standing behind a chair on the far side of the table.
“Yeung Tony’s plans changed at the last minute,” Mike said with no introduction, apology, or flattery. “However, he advised me to go in his place, and to confirm what I am saying, not only have I brought Soon Yi, whom you apparently already know, but I can put you in touch with Yeung Tony himself to confirm that everything is all right.”
Jace watched a smartphone appear at the bottom of his screen and slide across the table. Than looked at it, then back up at Mike, who smiled. “Just press the green key.”
Arun Than picked the phone up and touched the screen.
Jace watched his smartphone intently. “Okay, here we go. Let’s hope Tony’s convincing enough.”
“I expect he will be,” Vanner replied.
The microphone in the pen was excellent, and Jace heard every word from the other phone. “Hello?” Tony said in Cantonese.
“Hello. What happened to you?” Than said, watching the small screen while speaking at it.
“In case you are wondering, this is not a recording. It is the evening of September thirteenth, and the Hong Kong cricket team split a pair of matches with India earlier today. I regret that I could not meet with you, however, urgent business detained me near Malaysia. However, Mr. Kildar has agreed to serve as my representative in this matter. I trust that you will extend him every courtesy, as you would with me.”
“I—will. Are you all right?”
“I am fine. I look forward to the completion of our business, and to seeing you personally soon.”
“As do I. In that case, good night.”
“Good night to you as well.”
* * *
On the Big Fish, Yeung Tony leaned away from the smartphone he’d been using to talk with Arun Than. “Okay, I did what you wanted, now get that goddamn thing away from my head.”
Vanel didn’t move until he’d gotten the okay from Daria. Only then did he remove his silenced pistol from the back of Tony’s head.
“You did very well, Mr. Yeung.” Daria removed the smartphone and made sure the call had been disconnected. She also closed the two laptops they had been using. One had contained the script that Tony was to tell Than. The other one was a translator program that transcribed Tony’s words as he spoke, as insurance against him trying to warn Than. The girls had disguised the worst of his injuries with artful make-up, leaving the thug with a puffy-looking face, but in the dim light of the room, it would have been hard to notice.
Vanel had been crouched behind the pirate, his pistol out of sight from the videophone. He walked around the small room, always conscious of their prisoner in case he made any move to escape.
Daria paused in her work, pressing a finger to her wireless headset. “All right, the meeting is proceeding. Get him back to his quarters.”
Danes and Vil came in and waved for the pirate to come with them. Vanel was the last person out of the room, and grabbed a laptop to carry back to the intel room.
“Daria, a question?” he asked as he followed her through the ship.
“Yes?”
“If I had been forced to shoot the pirate, what do you think the Kildar would have done once the other man had realized he was dead?”
A smile crossed her face. “Oh, I am sure he would have improvised something suitable.”
* * *
The Asian stared at the smartphone for a long moment, then set it on the table as he pulled his chair out. Only when he was seated did he take out a handkerchief, wipe the phone clean, and slide it back toward Mike. “It would seem that you have the advantage, Mr.—Kildar?”
“Don’t assign him too much importance, Arun. Mr. Kildar is simply a mercenary hired by Tony to make sure that I got to the meeting.”
Jace’s view of Than shifted to the right, and he figured Mike had turned to look at the woman, probably not too happily, either. The pen camera shifted back to the Asian.
“Very well, Soon, although I am surprised that Tony would trust such a sensitive package to you.”
“The best disguise is often to hide in plain sight. But we didn’t come here to discuss my qualifications, we came here to do business.”
The first round of appetizers arrived at their table, and smelled great. Katya poked at hers with a dubious expression.
“Trust me, you’ll love it,” Jace said, popping the fragrant pork and shrimp dumpling into his mouth without taking his eyes from the screen.
“Show him,” Soon said.
The pen turned to the wall as Mike reached down to the floor beside him and picked up a small metal case with a combination lock. Turning it toward the black marketer, he flipped the catches and opened the lid, blocking Jace’s view of what was going on.
“Damn it.” Jace said under his breath, then raised his voice. “Mike, we can’t see what’s happening.”
“Can’t be helped . . . he’s looking the board over right now,” Mike replied, the words coming from the back of his throat sounding a little odd without being shaped by his lips or tongue.
A minute later, Mike closed the case and Jace watched Than nod. “It is genuine.”
“Of course it is. Did you doubt it?” Soon snapped.
“Of course not, my dear. However, given the—” His eyes flicked to Mike before returning to her. “—alterations that have occurred so far, it behooves me to not simply accept anything at face value any more.”
“Perhaps this will set your mind at ease: the board is yours to take with you, as a token of my good will.” As she spoke, Mike resettled the board into the case, closed it, and pushed the case toward the other man, who was regarding Soon Yi from under one elegant, arched eyebrow.
“Most kind of you.”
“That kindness only goes so far. Since you’re satisfied with the sample of the package, it’s time to show us the promised payment.”
“Of course.” Than reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small velvet bag, about the size of his fist. He set it on the center of
the table. “Feel free to examine them. I have a loupe, if you have need of one.”
“Why not—mine’s in my other bag, anyway.” Soon had taken the pouch, with Mike turning to watch her. Accepting the jeweler’s loupe, the petite woman opened the drawstring and gently poured the contents out onto the table.
“Whoa . . .” Jace whispered.
Katya swallowed her mouthful of abalone and goose puff and chased it with a gulp of tea to avoid choking. “Are those what I think—”
“They certainly are.” They both stared at the screen as a small stream of rubies, sapphires, topazes, and emeralds cascaded onto the table. Each stone was already cut and polished, their myriad facets flashing an expensive rainbow from the overhead lights.
“Than is fucking connected, to be able to get his hands on that many gemstones. He must know major people in Thailand to move that many rocks.”
Soon had expertly screwed the loupe over one eye and was examining stones at random. After looking at four or five, she raised her head, removed the loupe and handed it back to him, and nodded. “They are acceptable.”
“So pleased to hear it. The amount you have is one-quarter of the agreed-upon payment. Now, let us discuss the particulars of the delivery of the balance of the shipment, as well as the rest of the payment due—”
Jace lost the rest of Than’s words, as his attention was drawn to a loud discussion at the maître d’s station.
A mountain of a man, as tall as Oleg, but easily twice as wide, jabbed a thick forefinger into the waiter’s chest as he leaned forward. Dressed in a slightly rumpled black, pinstriped suit, He carried an ivory-topped, black Malacca cane, and had curly, black, shoulder-length hair, and the broad, flat nose and brown skin marking him as Samoan.
“Uh-oh, I think that may be trouble. Look over casually, then back at me,” Jace told Katya, who was about to turn to the discussion.
The giant’s words came clearly to Jace’s ear. “—you will take me there right now! Otherwise you’ll be taking the express down to the ground, and it won’t be by elevator. You have three seconds to decide.”
He was flanked by two burly men stuffed into off-the-rack, shiny suits, both of whom seemed more than ready to pound the smaller man into one-hundred-ten pounds of tuxedoed pulp.
