by Philip Dole
Remembering Duke’s orders to his team, he laid the suitcase on the lower berth, snapping the suitcase clasps with one hand. It held folders, files, and papers. He grabbed it and crossed over to the starboard cabin. As he searched for more documents, he heard Duke’s booming voice from the landing.
“Tyler, saddle up. The helo’s only five clicks out. Double time.” Tyler hurried out with the suitcase. He handed it to Duke. “Full of papers.”
“A hero. I’m telling you, Tyler, you are a gen-u-ine hero. I swear it.” Duke slapped him hard a third time and grabbed the suitcase, but not before Tyler slugged him back as hard as he could with his good arm. Duke directed Tyler to climb up to the bridge. Most of the team had already assembled there, awaiting the helicopter. From the bridge he saw the crates stacked on the slanting forward deck. Up close the crates seemed even bigger, and he had no trouble correlating their size to the destructiveness they held.
“Topside,” Duke yelled down to the sailors still below as the muffled noise of the helicopter’s rotors became audible. The Infidel was rocking gently in a calm sea, but the motion was accentuated on the bridge. The rocking, as slight as it was, made Tyler nauseous, and he vomited a last time.
The helicopter’s blades beat the air rhythmically, making a whomp-whomp sound as it hovered at fifteen meters above the bridge, kicking up sea spray in all directions. An airman in a flight suit and a helmet leaned out its open side door. He lowered a harness at the end of a cable that one of Duke’s team fastened around Tyler’s torso. It picked him off the deck. The pain in his shoulder was excruciating. The airman pulled him into the copter backward and detached the harness. When Tyler turned around, Lei and Little Bo rushed out of the shadows to embrace him.
“Thank God, you’re alive,” Lei cried, and Little Bo gave thanks in Arabic.
“Humdu’llah. I tell you it was a miracle. One minute I was dead, and the next I was vomiting bilge water on a SEAL who thinks he’s John Wayne. I was sure I was gone. I really thought I was dead.”
“Are you hurt?” Lei touched the sweatshirt with an empty sleeve.
“Just my shoulder, but it’s not too bad. I still can’t believe I’m alive. Humdu’llah. Praise the Lord. I’m alive. That’s all that matters.” He air-kissed Little Bo on both cheeks and then hugged Lei.
As the trio celebrated their unexpected reunion, one of Duke’s team was pulled aboard the copter. He helped the helicopter airman switch the cable to a large aluminum half-cage they lowered to the deck of the sinking Infidel.
“How’d you get here?” Tyler asked.
“This helicopter picked us up at the airport in Al Hoceima. That was our arranged rendezvous.”
Tyler decided to take it step-by-step. “What happened after you dropped me off?”
“We drove to the village.”
“It’s called Torres de Alcala,” added Little Bo.
“We were going to ditch the Citroen. Little Bo hired a car while I called Sunny and Hacker. Right at 9:00. He was very disappointed, but…”
“Who was disappointed, Sunny or Hacker?”
“Sunny. Hacker was excited. I told them you would try to delay Abdul by disabling his yacht’s engine. Hacker confirmed the GPS readings and arranged for help. He assured me he was doing everything possible and told us to leave immediately for the Al Hoceima airport. Military personnel would meet us. I begged for more details, Tyler, but he wouldn’t say anything more.”
Then Little Bo picked up the narrative. “Then we decided it was better to drive the Citroen to Al Hoceima. We were afraid the whole time they would show up. But nothing.”
“I called Sunny back to let him know Hacker had promised the U.S. authorities were actively involved. Then Hacker called us on the way to Al Hoceima, telling us that a Navy helicopter would pick us up at the airport. Nobody would tell us if you were alive, and we were so scared.”
“What about Wu? Did the Moroccans get him? God, I sure hope he didn’t get away.”
“We don’t know. Nobody’s telling us anything. When we took off from Al Hoceima, they wouldn’t even tell us where they were taking us.”
“Did they get the missiles, Sidi Tyler?”
“Yes, tell us they got the missiles even if Wu got away.” Lei made a sour face fitting for her acidic attitude.
The timing was perfect. As Lei and Little Bo waited for an answer, the aluminum cage rose into view. Tyler pointed at the crate in the cage. “You bet they did.” He whooped and high-fived Little Bo.
Chapter Thirty-five
In the debriefing room of Naval Intelligence
U.S. Naval Base, Rota, Spain
Friday, December 10, 2005
1:58 a.m.
“That’s quite a story, Mr. Pierce,” said Douglas Gleeson who was conspicuous in his civilian dress among the uniforms. He had the role of chief interrogator. He had an abrasive manner that Tyler didn’t like. After an hour of questioning him, Gleeson turned off the videotape. “We’ll corroborate your statement as quickly as possible, but in the meantime, I presume you have questions?”
“Yes, a lot. How in the world did you get there so fast?”
“Because the SEALS based in Rota, Spain are on standby 24/7, ready to fly as soon as they get a green light. That’s standard operating procedure. Ever since NSA overheard Ms. Chang’s conversation with her granduncle and heard al-Qaeda and al-Shabaab were involved, we had that frequency flagged code red.”
“Did Mr. Hacker get my messages?”
“Yes, and without the GPS readings, they wouldn’t ever have found you. Your friends didn’t know where you were. All they could tell us was you might be on one of the yachts. So the SEALs had to spot the yacht as they scoured the vicinity of the GPS.”
“I hope you caught Wu with all that hash?”
“Yes, Mr. Chang worked with the DEA’s Office of Foreign Asset Control, Special Operations Division to get the Moroccans’ help. They busted the whole operation. They found it all right where you saw it. The Alexander never even sailed. And as for Wu, he’s dead.”
“Dead?”
“He was aboard the Infidel. Apparently the al-Shabaab ordered Abdul to hold Wu as insurance he didn’t double-cross them.”
“And Abdul. Did they get him, too?”
“They got everyone. Zealots want to die, and these guys weren’t any different. They put up a fight but didn’t stand a chance. And because you did such a good job scuttling the boat, we didn’t have to do it. The bottom of the sea is the right place for it, them, and this whole incident.” Gleeson leaned forward and stared at him. “Understand?”
In his exhausted condition Tyler lacked affect. He was too tired to give Mr. Gleeson a good read. So he spelled it out. “Tyler, do you understand what just happened? No, you couldn’t. Of course not.” Gleeson deliberated what to tell him. After ten seconds of silence, he shook his head and continued, “You only need to know one thing. This never happened. You never went to Morocco. You never met Abdul. You know nothing about the Infidel or the Alexander. You never even heard of yachts by those names. And you sure as hell don’t know anything about missiles.” Gleeson curled his lips in his best effort at a smile. “Believe me, Tyler. It’ll be better for you and everyone you’ve ever known if you get amnesia. Do you have a problem with that?”
“No, not at all.”
“That means no 60 Minutes, no screenplay, no barroom bragging, no pillow talk, no confession to your priest, not even in a memoir fifty years from now. Do you read me loud and clear?”
“Yes, I understand.” Tyler really disliked this guy.
“Don’t get me wrong. Your country is thankful. You did the impossible with nothing, and I’m sure the President will find some appropriate way to express the gratitude of a world spared inestimable sorrow.”
“What about Niko, my client? He’s innocent, you know. He was tr
ying to bring the Pengs down, not helping them.”
“We’re working on a transfer to the Dutch. But you ought to think twice about the people you represent.”
“What does that mean? So what if the guy was using a false passport? Big deal, for crying out loud. He was going to turn himself in once they had the dirt on the Pengs.”
Gleeson raised his eyebrows and leaned back, interlacing his fingers on his very un-military paunch. “Is that what Ms. Chang told you? She’s spilled her guts to us, trying to save her skin.”
Tyler sensed he wouldn’t like what she’d told Gleeson, but he had to know. “She said they were digging up dirt on the Pengs. Sunny and Peng Hu, the grandfather, used to be partners, but now the Pengs are trying to muscle in on the Changs’ family business. Why don’t you believe that?”
Gleeson ignored his question and posed his own. “What did she tell you about the family businesses?”
“She told me they were Europe’s biggest dry cleaners.”
“They do own dry cleaners. But guess who works in those cleaners, handling all the toxic solvents?”
Tyler sat silent. A wave of nausea swept over him. He didn’t know where Gleeson was headed, but he sensed he wouldn’t like it.
“No idea, huh. I’m not surprised. How could she ask you to risk your life if she’d told you the truth?”
“What truth?” he snapped at Gleason. He was far too tired to be polite.
“Listen, Tyler. You’re clean. I know that. I checked you out myself. You’re a good kid.”
Tyler thought this guy was a first class jerk. But he listened. “So let me give you some free advice. Don’t let people lead you around, particularly women. Don’t whistle a woman’s song, no matter how pretty it sounds.”
“Thanks for the advice. But save it for someone who wants it.”
“Suit yourself. I’m just trying to save you from a life of heartache. Loving a woman you can’t trust is like terminal cancer. You waste away in excruciating pain and then you die.”
“I gave her my word I would do everything to save her brother if she would trust me with his case, and when push came to shove, I bailed out. I abandoned my client. And I broke my word.”
“You’re being way too hard on yourself. The fact is she’s actually been lying to you from the get-go.”
“What lying?”
“I don’t blame you for falling for such a beautiful woman. But the truth is the Changs are a crime family built on lies. Her granduncle Sunny has been Europe’s biggest smuggler of human beings for sixty, seventy years. Illiterate peasants from China and all of Southeast Asia. He sells them the dream of a better life and then exploits them.
“Ever since his days on the Rotterdam docks, he’s brought in Chinese men who give him a part of their earnings. They end up paying him a fortune over the years. Once they’re here, they sell the ones they don’t abuse in their own dry cleaners to unscrupulous employers who make them do the dirtiest, most dangerous, most unhealthy jobs.”
Tyler dropped his head down on the conference room table. His headache came back in a rush. His stomach tied itself in knots. Lies. Everything she’d told him had been lies intended to deceive him.
He groaned because he realized she had played him like a violin. “So what about the Pengs? Did she lie to me about them, too?”
“No, she didn’t lie about them. They’re father and son big-time arms dealers. We’re still piecing things together, but it looks like an ethnic Chinese in Kyrgyzstan who was somehow connected with renegades in the Chinese military got the missiles. Then he and Peng Fu got in touch with each other, and the man sold them to Fu.
“We don’t know a lot about the Pengs, but there are signs they’re diversifying into human smuggling, too. So it seems like the Chang clan are protecting their turf.”
“Why me?” Tyler asked rhetorically, but Gleeson answered.
“You were a target of opportunity. Your girlfriend located the Hawaii notary who had certified some Peng business documents, the same documents Niko was carrying and bribed her to disclose your father’s identity as the signatory on several key business documents. Lei was going to bribe the notary to get dirt on the Pengs. But then she saw your name on the bar association membership list right after your father’s. She noticed you had just been admitted to the bar, added two and two, and figured you were Arnold’s relative. She checked further and learned you were Arnold’s son. Who better to dish dirt than the Pengs’ lawyer?
“They already knew Wu was in Morocco, and after Niko got busted, they planned to spring him by fingering Wu. They figured that was faster and surer than pressuring your father who might not play. So your girlfriend…”
Tyler shouted, “Stop calling her that!”
“OK.” Gleeson held up both hands, palms out. Ms. Chang needed help, and who could be better than a sharp young guy who could protect her on her crazy hunt? The Changs’ big mistake was thinking fingering Wu would be the easier of their options.
“I can’t believe it.”
“You were a patsy, the fall guy. You’re lucky you got Wu because if you hadn’t, they had alternatives.”
“What do you mean?”
“If they couldn’t succeed in trading Wu for Niko, they were planning to keep you on ice until your father cooperated by dishing the dirt they needed to get the Pengs to back off.”
“They were going to kidnap me?”
“They didn’t have to kidnap you. They tricked you into going on your own. You were leverage. They were going to hold you hostage until they got Niko back and enough dirt on the Pengs to persuade them to launder their money elsewhere. Ms. Chang’s first move was to get you on their turf, alone and far from help.”
“I can’t believe I was so gullible.”
“Hey, don’t beat up yourself. She’s a dreamboat. Just next time you meet the girl of your dreams remember dreams end when you wake up. Free advice, Mr. Pierce. Pick girlfriends from the real world.” Gleeson laid a hand on his right shoulder. “I’ll be around if you think of anything else. Meanwhile I’ll be checking out the leads you’ve provided me. And thanks for the suitcase of papers. Who knows what’s in there?”
“Where’s Lei? I’ve got some questions for her.”
Chapter Thirty-six
In the debriefing room of Naval Intelligence
U.S. Naval Base, Rota, Spain
Friday, December 10, 2005
2:40 a.m.
Lei rushed in and hugged him as he sat. “Tyler, I am so happy. They are going to turn Niko over to the Dutch, and Wu is dead. Did you know?” She planted a small kiss on his stubbly, scabbed head. “Thank you so much.”
He slammed his right fist on the table, causing her to jump back with alarm. A sharp pain shot through his wrapped shoulder. “No more bullshit. Don’t feed me any more of your crap.” His face flushed red. He jumped up from his chair to face her, knocking it over. He spun and kicked it across the floor. Her surprised look morphed into indignation.
“What did they tell you?” She searched his face for the answer.
“I want to hear it from you.”
“What do you want to hear?
“I want the truth, damn it!”
”You want the truth. The truth is I love my brother more than myself, and I would do anything to save him. Is that what you want to hear?”
“Save him or save your crime ring?”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying you’re human traffickers. That’s the truth, and you know full well I would never have taken Niko’s case in a million years if I’d known. That’s the truth. You’ve lied to me from the start. You didn’t tell me you knew my father had a history with the Pengs.”
“I had just found that out.”
“Bullshit!” Tyler slammed the table again. “You could have told me. But you did
n’t tell me because you wanted to use me. You should have told me before you tempted me with a big retainer. You planned this whole damn thing. And you damn near got all three of us killed.
“You also lied about Abdul. I asked you straight out what Sunny had found out, and you lied. I had the right to know before I risked my life. But you didn’t tell me because you wanted to use me again. It was pure chance Sunny let that slip.” He grabbed her arm. “Tell me the truth for once.”
“You want the whole truth? The truth is I lied to you from the beginning. I admit it. And I would do it again. Don’t you understand I would do anything to save Niko?” She didn’t offer an apology. “Tyler, you betrayed me. You gave me your word, and when the time came to honor it, you turned your back.” He said nothing. She was right.
“Tyler, listen to me. I understand. You did what you had to do, and I did what I had to do. Your hexagram is Inner Truth. Remember? If you had followed its advice and looked into my heart of hearts, you would have seen I will always be true to my family. I didn’t hide it. You just didn’t look.”
“But that doesn’t change the fact you used me, Lei. Like a puppet on a string. And you are still a bald-faced liar. Are you proud your inner truth is lies?”
“No, I am not proud I manipulated you. And I know I am a liar. But you are a Don Quixote, Tyler. So I doubt you’ll heed the I Ching’s advice.
But you should. The next time might not turn out as well. Always remember appearances can be deceptive.” They said no more and went their separate ways—only seven days older but hopefully seven decades wiser.
Chapter Thirty-seven
Honolulu International Airport
In the main concourse
Saturday, December 11, 2006
6:55 p.m.
“Mr. Pierce, I’m David Hacker.” He wore a conservative suit and a red power tie. Donna White accompanied him. “E komo mai.”
“Welcome home, Tyler,” Donna chimed in. She wasn’t about to let Hacker take over. “We’ve heard tidbits about your escapades, and if half of it is true, I’m astounded. Boy, talk about doing your best for your client.”
