Red Dragons

by K W Frost

  ‘It could be that Kioki’s presence at the meeting location had to remain a secret,’ suggested Child.’

  ‘True, that’s another alternative. However, that doesn’t avoid the fact that the Blue Water Securities firm is important.’

  ‘Sam, what do you think?’ asked Child.

  ‘Well, we know Whittingham is mixed up with drugs, but is this Kioki guy involved too?’ Samantha said. ‘Perhaps they’re just making some other business deal that they wish remain a secret. Indications for this are the other calls Whittingham made and received. I counted two Americans, one British and about three Kiwi or Australian accents.’

  ‘Please don’t insult us,’ Ritson joked. ‘You don’t know the difference between Kiwi and Australian accents?’

  ‘Let’s not go onto other calls just yet,’ rationalised Child. ‘Let’s go through all the possibilities regarding Blue Water Securities first.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ questioned Ritson.

  ‘It’s quite simple, really,’ explained Child. ‘Can you describe the man who was following Whittingham?’

  Ritson closed his eyes, bringing the image of the tracker clearly into focus.

  ‘He was average height, short hair that was sandy brown in colour,’ Ritson recounted. ‘He was slim and had a plain face — the skin was sort of stretched across his features. I named him Tight Face. Also, he was dressed in a business suite and had a hands-free phone piece in one ear.’

  ‘Could you hazard a guess at his occupation?’ prompted Child.

  ‘He had to be a cop or a security man. There’s probably thousands in town at the moment with APEC on,’ stated Ritson confidently.

  ‘Nationality?’ Child prompted again.

  ‘Either New Zealand, Aussie, American or perhaps Canadian… but definitely white European.’

  ‘Let’s summarise then,’ Child said, looking around the room. ‘We have a white European cop, or security personnel following Whittingham down Queen Street—’

  ‘Which begs the next question: why?’ interjected Ritson.

  ‘I don’t know, but perhaps its time we found out,’ Child said.

  Child paused briefly, making a note on his pad.

  ‘Steve, can you describe what happened to this guy when he was intercepted?’

  ‘Tight Face was following Whittingham closely, making every effort not to be seen by him.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ asked Samantha.

  ‘Every time Whittingham turned around or paused look at something, Tight Face would stop in his tracks, drop down to do up his shoe lace or look into shop windows… anything like that really.’

  ‘It was that obvious then?’ prompted Samantha.

  ‘No… if you had been on the same side of the street then you wouldn’t have seen it at all,’ Ritson explained. ‘It was only after I’d already spotted Tight Face that I made the connection.’

  ‘Tell everybody what happened then,’ said Child quietly.

  ‘Old Tight Face gets tripped up. An elderly man in robes walks straight into him and they get tangled up together. It took almost a minute for Tight Face to get disentangled… and by that time Whittingham had vanished. I was busy watching the whole thing happen and then lost Whittingham as well,’ Ritson added bitterly.

  ‘Don’t worry about that, we know where he was going,’ Child reassured Ritson. ‘Describe the old man that tripped him up.’

  ‘Asian heritage, short in height and long, white hair. Looked like he had a moustache as well. He was wearing traditional Oriental robes.’

  ‘That’s the extra connection,’ said Child.

  ‘You think it wasn’t an accident?’ asked Samantha.

  ‘I can’t believe in any accidents right now,’ explained Child. ‘What are the chances that the man following Whittingham to secret meeting is intercepted by a man of Asian heritage, when this Kioki guy has just flown into the country? No, it was no accident. Steve, what happened to the old man afterwards?

  ‘I’m not sure,’ Ritson replied honestly. ‘I never saw him again… he sort of disappeared into the crowd.’

  ‘Just another pointer that the accident wasn’t an accident. You saw this man following Whittingham, and it seems obvious to me that someone else was also watching. They were not only watching, but able to intercept Tight Face. This leads to the question of you being spotted…’

  ‘I have no idea, Simon. I wasn’t interfered with like Tight Face, but I also I lost Whittingham after that point and couldn’t follow him any further.’

  ‘Then there’s the conversation Whittingham had with Mr Tagahasi,’ Samantha added, looking down at her down at her notes. ‘Can I replay a section of the tape?’

  Samantha found the part of the recording she needed and played it again for the room.

  Whittingham: I have just met with our overseas visitor. He has given me the final component, I would like it installed immediately.

  Tagahasi: Good. I will pick it up on the way. It would be unwise for me to be seen meeting with you at your offices, so I’d like it left at reception.

  Whittingham: Certainly, Tagahasi. Also, our visitor wishes to meet with you. Will everything be ready in time?

  Tagahasi: I will need two hours to finish the installation and complete testing. Make the appointment for 4.30pm.

  ‘This means we can identify a new player in the game: Mr. Tagahasi,’ said Samantha.

  ‘Sounds like some sort of technician?’ suggested Ritson.

  ‘I agree,’ said Samantha. ‘He could be an expert they’ve hired to install the component? It sounds like he’s deeply involved in the plan already.’

  ‘How so?’ asked Ritson.

  ‘Tagahasi didn’t ask Whittingham the obvious question — who the overseas visitor was. He must have already known that Kioki was coming and was expecting a meeting sometime soon. Kioki is one of the main leaders involved in whatever they’re doing,’ Samantha stated.

  ‘Very good thinking — seems logical to me,’ agreed Ritson. ‘Now my next questions are where did Kioki come from, and what does he plan to do while he’s in New Zealand?’

  ‘Can’t know for certain,’ ventured Child, ‘but I’d hazard a guess that it has something to do with Blue Water Securities.

  ‘Again, you’re probably right,’ said Ritson.

  ‘Okay, sounds like we have a plan coming together,’ stated Child. ‘We will investigate Blue Water Securities, Kioki and this Tagahasi guy. Agreed?’

  ‘Agreed,’ everyone nodded.

  Gray had remained silent in his chair, a thoughtful expression on his face. He had made no contribution to the discussion so far, but Child knew he had been following it carefully. Something was worrying Gray, but his thoughts had not fully formed in his mind yet.

  ‘Okay, Sam, you take the lead on the next one,’ directed Child. ‘What else can we learn from Whittingham’s other conversations?’

  Samantha stood up and moved over to sit on the single bed by the window. She wanted no distractions with what she had to say next. This was about her countrymen, so it was personal.

  ‘Whittingham had calls from two different Americans, and each one requested information about the timber concerns in South America,’ Samantha said calmly, referring to her notes. ‘While the details were sketchy, it did sound like they were planning large scale milling of existing sub-tropical forest. The Americans were concerned about reactions from political parties that support keeping forestation at existing levels. There were illegal measures mentioned in the calls, the undercurrent was definitely there.’

  Ritson looked at Samantha thoughtfully, mulling over what she had said.

  ‘Large-scale deforestation in South America could mean the Amazon,’ Ritson suggested. ‘There has been a strong international call for that whole area to be declared an international forest park. Some people are calling for compensation to be offered to Brazil to make up for the loss of income. There appears to be powerful commercial interest from corporations that don’t want th
is to happen… could this indicate that the man following Whittingham was an American?’

  ‘No… nothing really links this to Kioki,’ Samantha added quickly.

  ‘I don’t think so either,’ agreed Child, slowly shaking his head. ‘The conversations took place in Whittingham’s office over an open telephone line — why then bother going to a secret meeting? Bugging his office or breaking into his computer or something would be the way to work out what they’re scheming.’

  Gray looked hard at Child. Something Child has said triggered warning bells. It was something that had worried Gray in their previous conversations. Then the clouds cleared in Gray’s mind and he understood what had been troubling him.

  ‘There was nothing else in the tapes,’ stated Ritson, ‘just normal routine stuff like arranging a dinner party and organising a chartered yacht for the weekend. Probably planning to entertain some guests and then write it off as a business expense.’

  ‘Well, at least we’ve got some investigating to work on tomorrow,’ said Child.

  ‘No,’ said Gray in a loud, clear voice.

  Everyone turned to look at him in surprise. In his silence, he had almost been forgotten.

  ‘What are you saying?’ asked Ritson.

  ‘You’ve forgotten to consider something important,’ Gray said. He had everyone’s attention now. ‘Let me explain and then you can ask questions.’

  ‘Fire ahead,’ Child said, intrigued. ‘What have we missed?’

  ‘Let’s say you are Whittingham,’ Gray explained. ‘You now know you were followed from your office — surely you would question this? Whittingham knows he’s been involved in shady business, so the reasons for being followed are obvious. People know he’s up to something and they want to catch him in the act. The next question you would ask yourself — and this is the important one for us — is how do people know what I’m up to?’

  Gary paused for a moment, allowing everyone to consider his questions.

  ‘Simon, when you bugged Whittingham’s office, how did you do it?’ Gary asked.

  Child was beginning to see what Gray was getting at now.

  ‘I passed myself off as a security expert called in to sweep the office.’

  ‘Did you give them a card or any sort of contact?’

  ‘No, nothing at all, I didn’t want to claim I was from one of the big firms in case they already had a security arrangement set up. I wanted it to be a one-off sweep.’

  ‘Fine,’ continued Gray, ‘but what is Whittingham going to do now?’

  ‘He’s going to run a background check and find no information,’ Child said. ‘Then he’ll know it was bogus firm, and he’ll soon work out that I was actually there to bug his office.’

  ‘Right… then he’ll get someone he trusts to come in and remove your little bugs.’

  ‘Yes, but that’s not the worst of it, is it?’ Child asked, knowing what was coming.

  ‘It’s not,’ blurted out Ritson impulsively.

  ‘No, as Simon has worked out, it has other implications,’ Gray said calmly. ‘Firstly, Whittingham will now have an accurate description of Simon from the receptionist. Could he recognise you from last night?’

  ‘He might,’ nodded Child.

  ‘So, we have to assume from now on that you can be recognised by Whittingham and his associates.’

  ‘Okay,’ nodded Child. ‘I — or should I say we — will have to work around that.’

  ‘Secondly, they will correctly assume that we have listened to Whittingham’s conversations, and that we know about Blue Water Securities and its location. They’ll then either move out completely, which may not be practical this late in the day, or…’ Gray said quietly.

  ‘Or what?’ prompted Ritson impatiently.

  ‘Or they’ll be waiting for us when we visit,’ Child finished the sentence for Gray.

  ‘Kiwi C 34 calling.’

  ‘Eagle One receiving.’

  ‘How much information have you got on Whittingham?’

  ‘Local contact has good sources. We have quite a dossier on him. Unfortunately, nothing seems to be illegal. A few practices that are morally unethical, but not illegal.’

  ‘Try looking at a deal involving two Americans that concerns timber in South

  America, most likely in Brazil.’

  ‘Okay. How did you get this lead?’

  ‘Don’t worry about that. Next, find out as much as you can about a Mr Kioki, currently staying at the Regent Hotel. He’s heavily involved with Whittingham in an operation concerning Blue Water Securities. Location is the third floor in the old Waterhouse Building on Queen Street. Suggest maximum surveillance on both Whittingham and Mr Kioki.’

  ‘We already have Whittingham under surveillance around the clock. We’re really stretched because of limited personnel. However, Whittingham is currently at home. He did have had one visitor.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘No one recognised him. He’s not on any file. He didn’t look important, like a service man really.’

  ‘What time was this visit?’

  ‘8:13am. He stayed for twenty minutes.’

  ‘Describe him please.’

  ‘Average height, about five foot eight, black hair, slim build, possibly Asian.’

  ‘Asian?’

  ‘Eagle Two reckoned so.’

  ‘No, that fits. Keep a dose eye on Whittingham — he is the key to this.’

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  The Lah Wah restaurant was set in the newly fashionable Ponsonby area. It had quickly developed a reputation for fine Japanese food. It also served a range of Chinese food. The restaurant was situated just off Ponsonby Road itself. The clientele that night was the usual mix of European and Asian, and the restaurant floor was packed. Noise levels fluctuated and harried waiters wove an endless pattern between the tables. Dinner bookings had been made weeks in advance, especially when thousands of visitors were visiting the city for diplomatic talks.

  Kioki sat at a table alone, near the back of the room. He had finished his third course of the chef’s special banquet and gently used his napkin to dry his mouth. A waiter immediately stopped by his table, one hand with a perfectly draped napkin, the other behind his back.

  ‘Everything all right, sir?’

  ‘Yes, very good, thank you.’

  ‘I will bring the next course for you. I think you will find that the chef has added a interesting new flavour to the raw fish.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Kioki, ‘but please don’t hurry on my account. I have an important call to make now.’

  ‘Certainly, sir,’ nodded the waiter, before gliding away from the table.

  Kioki looked again at his watch. 8:57pm. Time to contact Tagahasi. The call was answered on the second ring.

  ‘Tagahasi.’

  ‘Black Dragon here. Are you ready to proceed with our test?’ Kioki asked.

  ‘Yes sir. The time has been pre-programmed into the main computer. All we need to do is wait.’

  ‘Very well, Tagahasi,’ replied Kioki.

  The conversation lapsed into silence. Time seemed to slow down for Kioki as he watched the final minute count down…

  At 8:59:55 the call was interrupted and faint static emitted. Precisely fifteen seconds later, the line returned to normal.

  ‘Tagahasi?’

  ‘I’m here, Black Dragon.’

  ‘Everything happened as expected.’

  ‘There were no problems on my end either. Everything worked perfectly,’ Tagahasi confirmed smugly. His investment in the technology was beyond reproach.

  ‘Good. I want you to plan for another blackout. From 9.30pm to 10pm tomorrow night.’

  ‘As you wish, Black Dragon, but the longer the interference the higher the risk.’

  ‘I am aware of that, Tagahasi,’ Kioki replied coldly. ‘Program the times into the computer tonight. That way if you are unfortunately detained away from the centre for any reason, then the blackout will continue tomorrow.’
r />   ‘I’m trusting you to make sure that situation won’t occur.’

  ‘Merely a precaution, Tagahasi, and besides — you will have a lot of other work to oversee tomorrow.’

  ‘It will be done as you ask, Black Dragon.’

  As soon as Kioki ended the call, a small plate of raw fish appeared before him. He smelt it appreciatively and resumed dinner. After another two courses he gestured to the ever-present waiter.

  ‘Excellent food, my compliments to the chef,’ Kioki said warmly. ‘I wonder if I may see him for a minute to pass on my compliments.’

  ‘I will ask, sir,’ the waiter nodded earnestly. He turned and disappeared through the curtained door into kitchen.

  The waiter was only away for a minute before he returned to Kioki’s table.

  ‘The chef will see you now, sir. If you would care to follow me.’

  Kioki got up slowly and followed the waiter through the curtain. Immediately, they turned right and away from the bustling kitchen. They headed along a narrow corridor towards open a door that lead to a small office. Beside the paper-strewn desk stood an imposing, middle-aged man.

  The man bowed softly as Kioki entered.

  ‘Welcome, Black Dragon.’

  Kioki bowed in return.

  ‘Thank you, Sleeping Dragon,’ he replied.

  The waiter closed the door behind him, leaving the two retired warriors alone in the office.

  ‘It’s good to see you, Mitsu,’ Kioki said. ‘You look well — the restaurant business seems to suit you.’

  ‘Thank you, Kioki, you too look well.’

  Kioki knew Mitsu when he was a grand sumo champion. There was no competition between them, as Mitsu was a fifth dan karate expert. Instead, there was a strong mutual respect for the other’s great abilities.

  Over the years, Kioki had used Mitsu and his ryu for several delicate, if somewhat violent, operations. Mitsuryu was a feared name in the Hong Kong’s underground circles. It was an organisation that was expert in its speciality: assassination. Mitsu recruited and trained his own operatives.