The Vets (Stephen Leather Thrillers) (60 page)

Mr Chan took another sip of tea, smiled, and put his bowl on the table top. “So, to business, Mr Woo.” Woo nodded and suppressed a shudder. “You enjoy your job with the Kowloon and Canton Bank?”

“I hold a very lowly position, but it is undemanding work,” said Woo.

“It is a key position. You are responsible for a great deal of money, Mr Woo.”

“I am but a small cog in a great machine,” said Woo.

“You are close to retirement, are you not?” said Mr Chan.

“I am an old man, it is true, and I will not be working for many more years,” said Woo. “Perhaps you seek a younger man –”

“No,” interrupted Mr Chan. “You are the man we seek, Mr Woo. You will be working next weekend. And on Friday. Is that not so?”

“Yes,” said Woo.

“That is what we thought,” said Mr Chan, straightening the cuffs of his shirt. He had large gold cufflinks, Woo noticed. “We wish you to ensure that the time locks to the depository vault doors are set to open twenty-four hours earlier than usual,” said Mr Chan.

“It is not possible!” said Woo.

Mr Chan slapped his hand down on the table, hard enough to rattle the three tea bowls. “Mr Woo, do me the courtesy of assuming that I know what I am talking about. You are responsible for the time locks, you set them to open on Monday morning. We wish the time locks to open on Sunday morning.”

“But why would you want me to do such a thing?”

“You are not a stupid man, Mr Woo,” said Mr Chan. “And it does not require a genius to work out what we are planning to do. I do not wish to burden you with the details. All require of you is that you do as we ask regarding the locks. And one other thing. There will be visitors to the depository on Sunday. You will recognise one of the visitors, but you will not allow them access until you have checked with your head of security, the gweilo called George Ballantine. He will give permission to admit the visitors. In all respects you will act as normal, do nothing unexpected. The only out of the ordinary act we ask of you is the setting of the locks. Do you understand me?”

Woo nodded, knowing that resistance would be futile. The Grass Sandal was a messenger, the Red Pole was an enforcer, and he would have to deal with one or the other. He was an old man and had no wish to fight. “Yes, I understand.”

“And you agree?”

“Yes, I agree,” said Woo, his hands under the table, his head bowed.

“In that case, Mr Woo, we can do business. Once this is all over, you will receive one million Hong Kong dollars, enough for you and your family to start a new life, wherever you want. It will be a golden opportunity for you, Mr Woo. A golden opportunity for your wife and your three sons. How are your sons, Mr Woo?”

Woo looked up. “My sons are fine, strong boys,” he said.

“I hope they stay that way, Mr Woo. I hope they stay that way.”

Mr Chan stood up and pushed back his chair. His companion stood up awkwardly and his chair fell back, cracking into the wooden floor like a pistol shot. The bedroom door was flung open and Mrs Woo rushed out, fearing the worst. When she saw that her husband wasn’t hurt her face reddened and she stood in the doorway, wringing her hands.

Woo showed his visitors out, closed the door, and then leaned against the wall with his head in his hands. His wife came over and stood in front of him, asking what was wrong but receiving no reply.

Tyler had given Mr Tsao the night off, not out of any concern for his well-being but because Michael Wong was coming round to help with the briefing and he didn’t want the old man to know what was going on. Wong arrived at just after ten o’clock in a large white delivery van with the name of a Kowloon electronics retailer stencilled on the side. He sounded his horn at the entrance to the compound and Tyler went out to let him in. Tyler opened the gate, pulled it back so that Wong could drive in, and then relocked it behind him. Wong gunned the engine while he waited for Tyler to slip the chain through the gate and click the padlock shut and he waved for the American to climb in so that they could drive the fifty yards or so to the warehouse. They sat talking for a while before Tyler got out and called the four vets over. He introduced them one at a time, and then Wong slid open a side door on the passenger side of the vehicle. He showed two long wooden crates to Tyler, each the size of a small coffin with rope handles at either end.

“Right gentlemen, let’s get them inside,” said Tyler. Horvitz and Carmody carried one, Doherty and Lehman the second. Once inside they put them down on the floor next to the worktables.

“Can you open them, Eric?” asked Tyler, handing a crowbar to Horvitz. Horvitz nodded and forced the end of the crowbar in the edge of one of the crates and forced the wood up with a splintering sound. He used his hands to tear away a piece of wood, revealing straw packing underneath. He pushed it aside, reached in and pulled out an assault rifle.

“Jesus, an M16,” said Carmody.

“Four M16s, actually,” said Michael Wong. He had brought a large black briefcase with him from the van. “Ammunition, too. And you’ll find tear-gas canisters and smoke and stun grenades in there.”

“Everything we need for a party,” said Horvitz.

“Let’s do it over here,” Tyler said to Wong. The two men went over to the wall near the workbenches, where Wong put down his briefcase and popped its combination locks.

“Gather round, gentlemen,” said Tyler, as Wong began taking out two cardboard tubes from the case. He unscrewed the caps and slid out a series of charts and photographs. He pinned them up on the wall with small thumbtacks as the vets stood around him in a tight semi-circle. One was an aeronautical chart centred around Kai Tak Airport, another was a large-scale street map of Kowloon and Hong Kong Island. Lehman studied the chart carefully as Wong took several large glossy colour photographs out of one of the tubes. He pinned up a series of photographs which had obviously been taken from a plane showing the airport, Kowloon, the island, and several of the Happy Valley racetrack. Below them he lined up another series of pictures, all ground-level views of the racetrack, some of them close-ups of the grandstand.

“Gentlemen, we have now reached the point where I can reveal the full details of the operation,” said Tyler, as Wong stood to the side of the pictures and maps, his arms folded across his chest. “I am sorry you have been in the dark for so long, but I’m sure you can understand the reason for secrecy. You will hear tomorrow that the Shatin racecourse was damaged in an arson attack. You’ll probably see it on your television sets if you’re not out celebrating in the seamy bars of Wan Chai.” The vets nodded. Tyler had brought in two portable colour televisions in an attempt to alleviate their boredom during the periods when they weren’t required to work on the Huey. “Mr Wong here, you might have guessed, will be responsible for the closure of the racetrack, and the subsequent switching of the last race of the season to the Happy Valley track on the island.” Tyler looked pointedly at Lehman. “Because the Shatin video screen will also be damaged in the attack tonight, there will be no video link between the two tracks, which means that all the high rollers will be going to Happy Valley on Sunday. It’s going to be a record take, and we’re going to be the beneficiaries. I haven’t discussed with you the details of the operation before, partly because we were still in the process of finalising the arrangements. An important component of the operation involves assistance from within the Jockey Club, and for that we have to thank Mr Wong here. He has in place a number of his people who will be working as tellers and supervisors on Sunday. They will give us the access we need. You gentlemen will enable us to get the money out. It will be a very profitable combination, I can assure you.”

Both he and Wong smiled.

“The timing of this operation will be the most important thing,” said Tyler. “The passage of money to and from the tellers is like the ebb and flow of the tides. Before each race money flows into the tills of the tellers, after the race it flows back to the winners, with the Jockey Club retaining its cut. It flows in, it flows out, with the Jockey Club retaining progressively more money as the meeting goes on. The amount of money in the tills reaches a peak just before the last race. If we move too soon, all the bets won’t be in. If we move too late, the tellers will have paid out to the winners. There are eight races scheduled for Sunday. Mr Wong’s men on the inside will admit members of his triad into the offices five minutes before race eight starts, but they will not move until the race has actually started and the horses are running. All eyes will be on the track, the betting halls should be practically deserted and anyone in there will be watching the race on the television screens. The men will hit each betting hall, take the money to the elevator, where they will transfer it to the roof of the grandstand. You gentlemen will leave the warehouse so that the Huey arrives at the track just after the race starts. Dan, the timing on this is going to be critical, so I want to go over the flight plan with you. We’ll get a full weather report on the day so that we know what sort of winds to expect. You’ll fly the Huey on one circuit around the field, dropping the smoke and stun grenades where they will cause maximum confusion. You’ll then fly to the top of the grandstand and pick up the money. Again, Dan, we’ll need to do the weight calculations beforehand so that we know how much we can take on board.”

Lehman nodded in agreement.

“Question, Colonel,” said Horvitz.

“Yes, Eric?”

“Do I gather that you won’t be flying with us?”

“That’s affirmative. I’ll be at the track, helping Mr Wong here. I’ll RV with you on the roof of the grandstand. You’ll pick me up along with the cash.”

Horvitz nodded.

“Another question, Colonel,” said Lehman.

Tyler raised an eyebrow and looked at him.

“The guns,” said Lehman. “What are the guns for?”

“For effect, Dan. I don’t expect them to be used. But we have to show that we mean business.”

“So they won’t be fired?”

“Not unless the Huey is fired upon,” said Tyler.

“Is that likely?”

“It’s unlikely in the extreme,” said Tyler. “The only weapons the guards have are shotguns, and beyond fifty feet they’re practically useless. They’re certainly not going to be able to bring down a Huey. Dan, we’re not trying to cause a bloodbath here. We want to get in and out with the minimum of trouble. You fly in, drop the smoke and stun grenades, you pick me up on the roof. Then we fly.”

“To where?” asked Lehman.

“I was coming to that,” said Tyler. “I want to go over the grandstand first. I don’t want the Huey actually to touch down; keep it in a hover about six inches to a foot above the surface. Here.” He pointed to one of the photographs of the grandstand. “This is where we’ll come out with the money. We’ll have packed it in canvas bags in the elevator. Larry, Eric and Bart, you’ll exit the helicopter and provide cover here, here and here.” He jabbed at the photograph three times. “I’ll have loaded the bags, with the help of two triad soldiers. I’ll then board the Huey, and the three of you join me, providing covering fire if necessary. Is that clear?”

The vets nodded. Lehman heard Carmody’s claw click.

“Our route after that will be due south, over the Peak, and down below Lamma Island.” He traced the route on one of the maps with his forefinger. “From here we’ll fly south-west for fifty klicks where we’ll RV with a ship, a freighter which will have a specially constructed landing ramp. Dan, you’ll land the Huey on the ship, we unload the cash, and then we push the Huey overboard. The ship will take us to Thailand, the captain is a friend of Josh’s. Josh will arrange for the Hong Kong dollars to be converted into any currency we wish. Gold even, if that’s what you prefer. Questions?”

Carmody shook his head. Horvitz ran a hand through his beard. “What happens to the triad soldiers we leave behind?” asked Horvitz.

Wong stepped forward. “The men we have on the inside will not be compromised,” he said quietly. “They will admit the armed Red Poles without being noticed.”

“Red Poles?” said Horvitz, his brow furrowed.

“Red Pole is the name we give to our triad fighters,” explained Wong. “They will be masked and they will wear overalls, no one will be able to identify them. Once they reach the elevator they will dispose of their overalls and in their place they will wear police uniforms.”

“I should have made that clear. I will also be wearing a uniform, that of an inspector in the Royal Hong Kong Police,” said Tyler. He smiled. “Please don’t shoot me by mistake.” He turned to Wong. “You have the uniform?”

Wong nodded. “In the van,” he said. “I’ll give it to you before we leave.”

“Any other questions?” asked Tyler.

“I have some, but they apply mainly to our flight plan and to our loading,” said Lehman. “We’ll go over those tonight?”

“That’s affirmative,” said Tyler. “And tonight we’ll also test the turbine. That okay with you, Bart?”

“Fine, Colonel,” said Lewis. “Been looking forward to it.”

“I think that brings this meeting to an end, gentlemen,” said Tyler. “I’ll leave these charts and photographs on the wall tonight for you to familiarise yourself with them.”

Wong put his cardboard tubes back in his briefcase and relocked it. He said goodbye to the vets and wished them well, and then went out with Tyler. A few minutes later they heard the van start up. The vets studied the M16s as they waited for Tyler to return.