Tiger by the Tail (16 page)

“Yes, sir.”

Mike nodded. “All right. I’ll take a look at your report, and let you know if I have any other questions.”

“Yes, sir.” Jace started to rise, then hesitated.

“Something else on your mind?”

“Yes . . . permission to speak freely, sir?”

Mike frowned. “Granted, and next time you don’t have to ask. What’s up?”

“It’s about that pirate. He was worked over pretty good.”

Mike leaned forward and rested his elbows on his desk. “Do you have a problem with my methods?”

Jace shook his head. “Not at all, sir. While I was pulling the market report, I also did some digging on him. Assault, armed robbery, drug smuggling, rape, kidnapping, sex slavery—that fucker would do anything to turn a buck. By the time I was finished, I was ready to go down there and spend some quality time with him myself.”

“‘Quality time.’ That’s good. So, what’s the issue?” Mike asked.

“I was simply wondering what the chain-of-command is on that sort of interrogation.”

“Ah.” Mike leaned back in his chair. “All interrogations of any kind are carried out by me. I decide what degree of force to use and when to apply it. While I lead from the front, and would never ask anyone under my command to do anything that I wouldn’t do, neither will I ask anyone to do something they are unwilling to do. In my experience, interrogations, particularly ones of that nature, often fall into that category. Are we clear?”

“Perfectly, sir.”

The Kildar leaned forward again, his expression as dark and cold as a Georgian winter.

“Besides, if I asked anyone else to do it, I would deprive myself of the pleasure, and that is something I simply will not do. The bottom line, Captain, is that I’m not a nice man. I just play one on TV.”

“Understood, sir.”

And just like that, the darkness vanished, and Mike was his regular self again.

“All right then, let me know if there’s anything else you need.”

“Not at this time, thanks.”

“Glad we had this little chat.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

A little more than ten hours later, the
Big Fish
dropped anchor three nautical miles away from Victoria Harbor and the city of Hong Kong. Jace, Adams, Katya, and several of the Keldara stood on the starboard side, staring at the illuminated skyline glowing like a beacon of civilization in the darkness.

“Father of All . . .” Vanel breathed. “It lights up the entire night sky.”

“It is amazing . . . to be so bright from this far away,” Grenzya said.

“Hong Kong . . . you will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy,” Jace said, earning shocked looks from the Keldara.

“How can you say that about something that looks so beautiful?” Martya asked.

“Often it is the most beautiful flowers that are the most deadly,” he replied. “Like most major cities around the world, Hong Kong looks great from a distance, but once you get closer, its true nature becomes very apparent.”

“Jesus, Morgan, don’t scare ’em before we get there,” Adams muttered. “It’s just like any other big city.”

“Sorry, Master Chief, but that’s where you’re wrong. The city-state of Hong Kong has played by a different set of rules than the rest of China, and the world, for that matter, for decades.”

Jace’s words were closer to the truth than anyone, including him, knew. Loosely translated as “fragrant harbor,” the port city had been an anomaly ever since the British East India Company’s first visit in 1699. Trade between Great Britain and China had quickly flourished, with the city rapidly growing as a result. Trade imbalances and deteriorating diplomatic relations over the next one hundred forty years had led to the First Opium War in 1839–42. The resulting Treaty of Nanking had ceded Hong Kong Island to the English in perpetuity, and the Brits had immediately founded Victoria City on it. The Second Opium War, fought from 1856–60, saw Kowloon Peninsula and Stonecutter’s Island taken by Great Britain under the Convention of Peking. In 1898, Great Britain negotiated a ninety-nine-year lease of Lantau Island from China, making it a British port throughout much of the twentieth century, save for four years of occupation by the Japanese from 1941 to 1945.

After years of discussion, Hong Kong was returned to the People’s Republic of China in 1997, ending 157 years of British rule. The transfer came with the understanding that the city would be administered as a “Special Administrative Region.” This meant Hong Kong would retain its own laws and much autonomy to govern itself, except in matters of defense and foreign policy, for at least fifty years after the transfer.

In the fifteen years since, the city had solidified its place among the premier metropolises of the world. It had also weathered its share of problems, including economic scares like the 1997 Asian financial crisis, and health scares, such as the bird flu outbreak, also in that year, and the SARS crisis of 2003.

Constrained by its land boundaries, the city had expanded upward instead of outward, and its glittering skyline held the Keldara—and more than a few of the staring Americans—enthralled. But Jace was determined to make sure that everyone going into the city was aware of the dangers lurking beneath its bright, shiny façade.

“If I were you, I would probably treat this one step below tango territory. Hong Kong is a city built on commerce, but that doesn’t mean it won’t take care of its own. Not to mention chew up and spit out any
gwai-lo
that tries to interfere with it.”

“What is that word, sir?” Vanel asked.

“It’s a derogatory Chinese term for any outsider,” Jace said with a slight grin. “It literally means ‘white ghost.’ You don’t want me to get into a two-hour explanation of the secondary cultural meanings including, ‘unimportant’ and ‘going to be gone long before anybody cares about its complaint.’ Note the use of ‘it,’ which is a good way to think about how most Chinese view foreigners in general, as in, ‘doesn’t really exist,’ ‘foreign devil to be screwed over by superior Chinese intellect,’ and ‘somebody to sell shoddy silk, spices, and tea to because they’re too uncultured to know the difference.’ By the way, that’s exactly how they viewed your Byzantine employers and what they called
them
. Two thousand years ago.

“It is unlikely that anyone would say it to your face, but don’t take it personally if you happen to hear it. Make sure you review the primer I sent out about the strict firearms laws in the city. Hopefully, no one will have to use or even show them. Always keep your passports with you in a secure place, as the pickpockets here are very slick. Remember, even as foreign citizens, you are bound to obey the city’s laws whenever possible. Hopefully we’ll be in and out before we’re even supposed to register with the police.”

“Register with the
police
?” Adams said. “Is it mandatory?”

“Yes. And since we’re skirting it, we should be gone before anyone notices. Just keep your wits about you, and you’ll be fine. Just keep in mind that Lucas must have been to Hong Kong. As Obi-Wan said: ‘You’ll never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy. We must be cautious.’”

Catching the confused glance between Vanel and Martya, Jace shook his head.

“Jeez, Adams, haven’t you shown them
Star Wars
yet?”

* * *

They had approximately twenty hours before the meeting, and there was still a fair bit to do. Daria had handled accommodations and vehicle rental in the city, but had run into a potential logistics snag.

“Wait a minute, the hotel we’re meeting Than at is where, exactly?” Mike asked.

“The Ritz-Carlton itself is on floors 103 to 118 of the International Commerce Center overlooking Victoria Harbor. The meeting is set up at a private room at Tin Lung Heen, a Cantonese restaurant on the 102nd floor.”

“Great, that severely limits our access and egress points if we have to unass in a hurry, or even worse, get out ahead of a building lockdown,” Mike said.

Daria was unfazed by this development. “According to the conversation between Mr. Than and Yeung Tony, he was most insistent—apparently it is the only place he will meet customers when he is in the city.”

“Wonderful, a fixer with five-star tastes,” Mike grumped. “Could he get more public? Whatever happened to meeting in a shady bar or dark alley? Since we don’t have any choice, we’ll play it his way. At least I should be able to get some decent dim sum. What about appropriate clothes? I wasn’t expecting to be heading anywhere with a dress code on this trip.”

“Two pairs of slacks, two short-sleeved shirts, and two sport coats should be waiting for us at the Royal Pacific Hotel and Towers, along with our rooms. I also took the liberty of having an assortment of clothes tailored for the Keldara who may be appearing in public as well. Two suites, one for operation staging, and one for running surveillance, are also reserved at the Ritz.”

“Works. So, I’ll be wearing the short-range earpiece for communication with my back-up, assault, and Vanner’s team. What else?” Mike asked.

“The surveillance pen will also be ready, so that we’ll be able to see and hear what you’re seeing and doing. Given where the meeting is being held, Captain Morgan has suggested that all of the meeting team and backup go in unarmed, unless someone wishes to take something that is undetectable for all intents and purposes. Sergeant Vanner has proposed keeping backup weapons in the comm suite, and the captain agreed, a bit grudgingly, it seemed. If anything goes terribly wrong, the assault team can be summoned. Other than Soon Yi, whom do you expect to accompany you?” Daria asked.

“With Vanner heading the surveillance team, Morgan and Katya can man the outer room. They will appear to be on a date. Oleg will command Team Jayne in the van in the garage.”

Daria nodded, making notes. “Initial estimates based on the blueprints and schematics give them a three-minute access time to the room, assuming we will be able to access and override the elevator controls. If they must take the stairs, it will be at least seven minutes.”

“And then they’ll be almost too pooped to fight, not that they still wouldn’t. Let’s not go all
Mission: Impossible
here,” Mike said. “This should be a simple sit-down and discussion of the future transaction, maybe a little negotiation. If Oleg and the boys are needed, then something has gone seriously FUBAR.”

“Of course, Kildar.”

“One more thing. Have we heard from Adams recently?” The master chief had headed out for his meeting with his buddy several hours ago.

“Nothing yet.”

“That’s what worries me.” Mike rubbed his chin. “Try to raise him, will you? I just want to be sure that he’s not tearing through the city.”

“If he was, I am sure that the news stations would pick up the story,” Daria said.

Mike shook his head. “That is
exactly
what I do not want to happen.”

* * *

Mike and his teams had checked into their rooms at the Royal Pacific in the early morning, trying to be seen by as few people as possible. He’d gotten confirmation that Vanner and the girls were almost set up in their own suite at the Ritz, and would be up and running well before the meeting that night. Mike had them download all of the necessary hotel floor plans to the operation teams, then tried on his clothes for the evening’s op. The olive-green sport coat, cream button-down shirt, and taupe gabardine slacks were all superbly tailored, and the entire outfit was half the cost of anything he could get in Europe. He tried on the Italian, woven brown leather deck shoes and surveyed himself in the full-length mirror.
I wonder how they would do with digi-cam fatigues
, he thought.

With a few hours to kill before the pre-op briefing, he decided to go for a run along the harbor. Life on the
Big Fish
was great, but Mike never wanted to leave land behind; laps on the ship just weren’t the same. After making sure Soon Yi was secure in the adjoining suite, he left the hotel and headed south on Gateway Boulevard, passing the Gateway Towers, a multilevel shopping mall called Ocean Center, then the Marco Polo Hotel, followed by a bland white commercial building called the Star House. Mike passed the Tsim Sha Tsui Pier on his right, then hit a public pier that extended west into the harbor and east along the shore. The walkway, named the Avenue of Stars, was decorated with bronze statues and red and gold monuments highlighting China’s great actors and directors.

Not giving any of those a passing glance, Mike was also careful to avoid the many tourists reading and taking pictures of their favorite actors and actresses. Instead, he enjoyed the view of the vast harbor that surrounded the small peninsula on three sides. Passing the Hong Kong Museum of Art on his left, he turned that way to cut through the Salisbury Garden and head back into the city. Guided by his smartphone, he navigated the crowded streets, heading steadily north by northwest until he wound up passing the International Commerce Center.

The modern building, completed just last year, was a tall, gleaming rectangle of glass, with triangular-cut corners at its base. Cars and people swirled around it in a flurry of constant motion, with well-dressed men and women entering and leaving in a steady stream. As he ran past, Mike noted the underground vehicle entrances, as well as the general layout of the surrounding streets and buildings. Although Vanner would have all of this covered with maps and photographs, for Mike there was never a better substitute for boots—and eyes—on the ground. The fact that he could get in his daily exercise while doing a sneak and peek was even better.

By the time he passed the ICC, he’d worked up a decent sweat—no doubt the extra humidity had a lot to do with that. Although he could have kept going for another hour, he decided to head back, grab a shower, and go over the site plans and general op schedule once more.

Back at the Royal Pacific Towers, he slowed to a walk and entered the gleaming gold-mirrored building, passing the chrome sculpture of jumping dolphins out front. They’d gotten him a plush “Towers Harbour” suite, which was much better than the bare-bones places Mike had stayed while on business in Eastern Europe. There was a separate parlor area that looked out onto the harbor, with an in-wall flat-screen television, luxurious desk and leather-backed chair, minibar, and all of the standard furnishings. The bedchamber was long, with the soft king bed in the center facing a row of three-quarters windows that gave the guest a panoramic view of Victoria Harbor, not that he had given it more than a cursory glance upon walking in. The beige carpet was thick and soft, and the room had simple, clean lines, with cream walls, a slightly vaulted ceiling and modern, black lacquered nightstands on either side of the bed.