The two beefy bodyguards marched over and flanked Wilde as they stepped through the automatic doors into the extravagant lobby with lush furniture arranged in separate sitting areas. Finder and Dr. McCabe were right behind, followed by the Cryptos.
Not only was the Chang Empire Building the corporate headquarters of Henry Chang’s conglomerate, the entire top floor was his penthouse home.
As they walked through the separate seating areas reserved for small business gatherings, Finder noticed heavy security staggered about the perimeter. He counted maybe twenty men sharply dressed in business suits, their jackets open slightly for easy access to the side arms strapped on their belts, watching them warily like they were a pack of lions sneaking up on a herd as they passed across the room and headed for the bank of elevators.
A man in a tailored suit stood by the elevator doors. When they were almost ten feet away, he put up his hand like a traffic guard. “I am Kang Wu. Mr. Chang has instructed that only you Mr. Wilde, along with Dr. McCabe and Mr. Finder, are to be allowed up.”
“What about—” Wilde started to say but was abruptly cut off.
“Only you three.”
Finder could tell that Wilde was fuming. His boss wasn’t used to having someone talk to him like that, especially someone he thought as a minion.
Wilde’s bodyguards took a step forward to challenge the man.
Chang’s security team moved in immediately. No guns had been drawn but everyone had their palms resting on their handgrips. Kang Wu defused the escalation by motioning the men to step back.
“Easy there, boys. This isn’t the wild west,” Dr. McCabe said, like he was the town marshal breaking up a bar fight in a saloon.
Finder glanced over his shoulder but it was impossible to read the expressions on the Cryptos with half their faces covered. He never trusted them and prayed they didn’t do something irrational to provoke Chang’s men.
The bodyguards looked to Wilde for direction. “Go grab something to eat,” he told them then nodded at the Cryptos. “And take them with you.”
Wilde’s entourage backed away reluctantly and headed slowly for the main entrance under the scrutiny of Chang’s security team.
The doors opened and the four men stepped inside the glass elevator. Kang Wu pushed a button on the panel and the doors slid closed. The car ascended passing floors with mazes of employee cubicles and office machines.
Once they’d cleared the fortieth floor, the view opened up, and they got their first glimpse of the city lights. By the time they reached the seventieth floor, Finder noticed the cityscape below becoming hazy in the misty night sky.
“While you are here,” Kang Wu said, “Mr. Chang would like you to be his guests. He has arranged accommodations for you on the floor directly below his penthouse.”
A chime sounded when they reached the 100th floor. The elevator came to an abrupt halt and the doors opened onto an impressive suite the size of a gymnasium.
Kang Wu exited and stood by as Wilde, Dr. McCabe, and Finder stepped out. Wu gave them a bow, got back in the elevator, and pushed the button, closing the doors.
Finder felt as though they had walked into a museum. Twenty Chinese tapestries hung on the walls over finely polished tables, each with ancient sculptured artifacts made of jade and bronze. He counted at least ten Ming vases the size of rain barrels staged around the room along with long-fingered palms in large ceramic pots.
The penthouse was exquisitely decorated with enough chairs and couches to sit over fifty people easily, the layout definitely conducive for entertaining small cocktail and dinner parties.
Henry Chang stood with a drink in his hand by the giant forty-foot wide floor-to-ceiling window that overlooked the city. “Ah, Carter, so nice to see you.”
“Henry,” Wilde said flatly.
Even though they were cordial, Finder could sense the tension between the two men.
“Let me get you all a drink,” Chang said. He turned to a man in a white suit standing behind a well stocked bar that would have rivaled a hotel lounge.
“I’ll have a bourbon whiskey,” Wilde said.
“Is Pappy Van Winkle’s to your liking?” Chang asked.
Finder doubted Wilde could turn down a glass from a $3,000 bottle of bourbon.
“Make it a double,” Wilde said.
Dr. McCabe walked up to the bar. “A beer.” The man behind the counter poured frothy ale into a large stein.
“Mr. Finder?” Chang asked.
Not wanting to appear rude to his guest, Finder rubbed his stomach and said, “Maybe a ginger ale in a bit.”
“Rough flight?”
Finder nodded. He walked over to the giant windowpane and gazed down at the tall buildings’ rooftops shrouded in the mist.
“I often think I’m staring in the ocean at the city of Atlantis.”
Finder turned to the voice and saw a beautiful woman in a Mandarin evening gown, sitting on a couch. She was holding a champagne flute. “Funny, I was thinking the same thing,” he replied.
The elegant woman stood. Chang strolled over and put his arm around the small of her back. “Gentlemen, I would like to introduce you to my daughter, Luan.”
Wilde raised his tumbler in salutation. Dr. McCabe gave her nod.
“It’s very nice to meet you,” Finder said, genuinely enamored by her beauty. He gave her a customary bow, which she respectfully returned.
Noticing he wasn’t holding a drink, Luan said, “Perhaps you would care for some champagne?”
“Yes, I would, thank you,” Finder said and smiled. He walked with her to the bar. A flute of Dom Perignon awaited on the counter. He raised his glass as a gesture of appreciation. “Miss Chang.”
“Please, call me Luan, Mr. Finder.”
“Very well. Luan. Only if you call me Lucas.”
Her smile took his breath away. Finder heard Henry Chang say, “Dr. McCabe, do you have any idea what you are holding?”
Dr. McCabe had picked up a golden vase with carp and flower motifs and put his stein on the table without a coaster. He tossed the antique a few inches in the air as if determining its weight before looking at Chang. “Haven’t a clue.”
“That was crafted for Emperor Qianlong in the early 1700s. It was originally auctioned for $80 million before I privately acquired the magnificent piece.”
The doctor started to return the vase to the table. He bobbled it suddenly in his hands, almost dropping the precious artifact on the marble floor then grabbed it. “Oopsy daisy.”
Henry Chang sucked in a deep breath while Luan let out a gasp.
“Joel, quit screwing around!” Wilde hissed.
Dr. McCabe placed the vase on the table and grabbed his beer. The icy stein had left a ring on the polished mahogany.
A man in a waiter’s uniform stepped into the room. “Dinner is ready, Mr. Chang.”
“Shall we go to the dining room?” Chang said.
Finder watched Chang’s eyes narrow as Dr. McCabe and Carter Wilde filed into the next room. He suspected the Chinese billionaire had a low regard for both men, and like all business dealings, their association was purely professional. He hoped he might have a more intimate relationship with Luan but was worried her father might hold the same animosity toward him but then his fears were quickly dispelled when Luan offered her arm for him to escort her into the dining room.
14
ZOMBIE WORM
Henry Chang’s hand-carved high back chair was inches taller than the rest in the seating arrangement around the elaborate round dining table and was construed as the head. Luan sat in the chair on her father’s left, then Finder, Dr. McCabe, leaving Carter Wilde seated to the right of the Chinese billionaire.
The servers brought out the first entree.
Finders stared down at the bowl in front of him, which was a thick, gelatinous soup. A ceramic spoon was on his place setting along with a pair of plastic chopsticks.
“To begin,” Chang said, “we will start
with the delicacy of edible bird’s nest soup harvested from the limestone caves of Borneo.”
Dr. McCabe moved his spoon about in the soup. “Isn’t this just bird spit?”
“Joel!” Wilde growled, like he was berating a two-year-old.
Finder knew McCabe was referring to the swiftlets that had the ability of echolocation like bats so they could navigate through caves in total darkness. The birds would construct their nests with strands of their own saliva and cement them together in the shape of small nests, which was the main ingredient for the soup. A single bowl of soup ran about $3,000 and was a $2 billion per year industry.
Finder found the soup to be bland but ate it anyway. Luan seemed to enjoy hers. Wilde and Chang consumed every dollar’s worth while McCabe had only a few spoonfuls before pushing his bowl away.
The second entree was generous servings of beef broccoli, Mandarin chicken, steamed cabbage, bok choy, noodles, and steaming bowls of white sticky rice. There was also a large platter of small crabs with orange claws covered with brown fur, and dark green shells, the carapaces maybe four inches wide.
Chang held a crab in one hand, a silver nutcracker in the other. “I hope you enjoy hairy crab.” Around the table, the nutcrackers sounded like popping fireworks on Chinese New Year.
This time the culinary experience was much more to Finder’s liking. The meat was sweet and tasty. An added bonus was the creamy golden roe inside the shell.
Luan filled a bowl with rice and covered it with vegetables. She looked over and smiled at Finder, then ate a delicate amount of rice with her chopsticks.
Raising his glass of white wine, Chang said, “I would like to take a moment to thank you, Carter, and Dr. McCabe for your contributions. Especially the Yeren, which will be our greatest treasure.”
Finder nearly choked and looked up from his meal, knowing McCabe had been unsuccessful in creating the legendary creature and if Chang had one in his possession, it had to have been bioengineered by Professor Nora Howard.
“Our pleasure,” Wilde said, taking the credit and hefting his glass.
“What about the Xing-Xings and the raptors?” Dr. McCabe said, not bothering to touch his glass of wine and obviously feeling slighted as he had created those creatures.
“Yes, they will generate much interest,” Chang replied. With his glass still raised, he turned to Luan. “And to you, my dear daughter. Cryptid Kingdom would not be possible, if not for you.”
“Thank you, father. You are too kind.” Luan held up her glass.
Finder, Chang, Wilde, and Luan put their drinks to their lips and paused to look at Dr. McCabe, who still hadn’t picked up his glass.
“Joel, we’re waiting,” Wilde said.
“Oh, what the hell.” Dr. McCabe snatched his glass and downed his wine in a single gulp.
The two servers came back into the dining room, carrying tiny plates, which they placed in front of the five diners.
“What is this?” Dr. McCabe said in disgust, studying the thing on his plate.
“I thought you might like to taste another of our delicacies—zombie worm.”
“Father, if you don’t mind, I would like to send mine back,” Luan said.
“If you wish,” Chang said.
Finder looked at the shriveled worm on his plate. “What exactly is zombie worm?”
“My father enjoys them but I find them a little too gross,” Luan said. “A zombie worm is a worm that has been infected by a parasitic fungi called a cordycep, which has the ability to take over its host and turn it into—”
“A zombie, now I get it,” Finder said and looked over at Chang. “If it is all right with you sir, I think I’ll pass.”
Chang picked the worm off his plate with a forefinger and thumb, put the tiny morsel in his mouth, and swallowed. “I am told cordyceps have many benefits. Sure you won’t try some, Mr. Finder?”
Before Finder could answer, Dr. McCabe jumped in and said, “Personally, I like shark fin soup or maybe you have pangolin?”
“I’m afraid those are not on the menu,” Chang said. “I don’t condone the practice of stripping the fins off of sharks and throwing them back into the ocean to die. Nor do I approve the poaching of pangolins.”
“I thought you Chinese ground the scales up for medicine?” Dr. McCabe said.
“My companies no longer deal in the pangolin trade ever since they were put on the Red List of Threatened Species,” Chang stated.
“Listen to you,” Wilde said with a laugh. “You’re starting to sound like one of those radical animal rights activists.”
Chang only smiled, letting the comment slide like water rolling off the back of a Peking duck. “Sometimes in order to protect what is dear to us we must make certain sacrifices.”
“Father has changed through the years,” Luan said.
“My daughter has opened my eyes to many things,” Chang admitted, finishing with the course and laying his chopsticks horizontally on his bowl.
Dr. McCabe stood his chopsticks upright in his bowl of rice.
Chang looked at the doctor’s bowl and shook his head.
“Did I do something wrong?” McCabe said.
“Not unless you are attending a funeral,” Chang replied.
McCabe got the message and laid his chopsticks across his bowl. “So what’s for dessert?”
As if on cue, a server came into the room carrying a large tray of five Golden Opulence Sundaes. They ate the Tahitian vanilla bean ice cream and chocolate truffles with gold spoons.
A second server entered with a bottle of Remy Martin and poured the cognac into five crystal snifters.
“Let me,” Wilde said. He reached inside his suit jacket, took out a small humidor, and opened it on the table, revealing four cigars inside. Finder recognized the black and yellow band of the Cuban Cohibas, which had been a favorite of Fidel Castro.
“You are so generous, Carter,” Chang said when Wilde handed him a cigar.
Dr. McCabe accepted his but Finder declined, as he didn’t smoke.
“Let us retire to my smoking room,” Chang said, getting up from the table. Wilde and Dr. McCabe rose as well.
Luan turned to Finder. “Would you care to join me on the observation deck?”
Finder looked at Chang. The billionaire smiled, giving his approval.
The three men walked away from the dining table and into an adjoining room.
“Aren’t you going to be a little cold out there?” Finder said, gazing at Luan’s thin evening gown.
“The cognac will keep us warm.”
15
CAT’S OUT OF THE BAG
Caroline spotted a young man waving frantically as they came out of the airport terminal.
“That’s my cousin, Tommy,” Amy said.
It was especially difficult for Caroline, Gabe, and Amy to weave through the tightly-knit crowd of travelers crammed together at the pickup point as they had to drag their suitcases on wheels.
“Over here, over here,” Tommy shouted, jumping up and down to get their attention. He was standing behind a Toyota Corolla amid doubled-parked vehicles waiting to pick up arriving passengers.
“Tommy, I missed you,” Amy said, dumping her suitcase by the rear bumper. She gave her cousin a big hug and turned, introducing Caroline and Gabe.
“Nice meeting you. Let me help you.” Tommy grabbed Amy’s bag and tossed it into the trunk. He then took Caroline’s luggage, wedging it between the spare tire. But when he picked up Gabe’s suitcase and stuffed it in, he realized he would not be able to close the trunk lid all the way. “Not to worry,” he said. He grabbed a short piece of rope, hooked one end to the lid, and wrapped the other end around the car’s bumper. “Please hurry and get in the car!”
Gabe opened the rear door so Caroline could slide across the backseat. Amy got in the front seat while Tommy jumped in behind the wheel. Gabe hadn’t even closed his door behind him when Tommy—not bothering to look over his shoulder or check his sideview mirror�
��sped away from the curb into the bustling traffic.
Caroline was shocked to see motorists driving like a bunch of maniacs. Privately owned cars competing with taxis, everyone weaving in and out of lanes in hopes of passing the vehicle in front of them only to brake suddenly in the congested stop-and-go traffic.
“It’s like the Daytona 500,” Gabe said. He sat back from the window when a small truck got too close and almost sideswiped the Corolla’s car door.
They were a short distance from the airport when Tommy entered a roundabout that looped a hillock island and branched off in another direction. He had to slow down as 500 cyclists of every age group funneled onto the thoroughfare. Teenagers, young adults, and elderly people pedaling in unison like a critical mass protesting the usage of fossil fuel in hopes of protecting the planet.
Caroline stared out her window, feeling like a skin diver that had suddenly found herself in the center of a massive swarm of large fish. “Is the commute always like this?” she asked Tommy.
“Oh, no,” he replied. “Everyone’s going to lunch.”
“Are you sure you will have room for all of us?” Amy asked her cousin.
“I have plenty of room.”
Amy looked over her shoulder at Caroline. “Tommy lives in a studio apartment.”
“If it’s too much trouble,” Caroline said, “Gabe and I could go stay in a hotel.” She looked over at Gabe. He shook his head and gazed bewilderedly out the window.
“So, Amy. I’ve got awesome news,” Tommy said, passing a peloton of cyclists.
Caroline noticed Amy seemed troubled.
“Not now, Tommy,” Amy said.
“But I snagged us platinum passes. That means we can see everything.”
“What’s he talking about?” Caroline asked.
Amy made a face like she had swallowed a bug.
Tommy glanced back at Caroline and Gabe. “She didn’t tell you? I got us tickets for the big opening of Cryptid Kingdom.”
“Oh my God, Amy,” Caroline said. She turned to Gabe. The color had drained from his face.
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