by K W Frost
The Lah Wah was Mitsu’s legitimate front. Kioki had helped establish it three years previously, solely for the assignment happening tomorrow night. The waiters all belonged to Mitsuryu, and there were no waitresses.
‘Mitsu, how are your preparations for tomorrow?’
‘Everything is as you wished, Kioki. I even waited for a second invitation from the organising committee before the restaurant accepted the role of invited chefs for the international dinner tomorrow. Of course, I insisted that I supply my own personnel. I will be attending, and four of my trusted waiters.’
‘Excellent, Mitsu, you fill me with confidence. I can also guarantee a complete communication blackout from 9.30pm to 10pm. That should give you plenty of time.
The dinner tomorrow is for leaders only, and they have requested no interruptions. I will make sure that they are not.’
‘One thing more, Kioki — who is the target? The American president, Wheeler?’
‘No, Wheeler isn’t vitally important to us at this stage. He is only your secondary target. We can focus on him when our first target is down.’
Kiki paused momentarily heightening the tension.
‘Your target is Lin Chu Ming, chairman of the Chinese communist party.’
‘Ming?’ said Mitsu in a hushed voice, his eyes brightening. ‘The ultimate assignment.’
‘Yes, Mitsu. After tomorrow night your name will forever be remembered as one of the greatest ninja ryu,’ Kioki added for dramatic effect. ‘In the meantime, I have a couple of other smaller jobs for you…’
Chapter Thirty-Four
In his office in Washington DC, Bronson was concerned by the lack of progress he was receiving from his contacts. Bronson had many agents spread around the world. He had instructed all his other agents to remain in position, despite having very little to report back on as yet. It was his reports from 34 C kiwi and the Eagle Team that caused him concern.
President Wheeler was already in New Zealand. Did he need to warn the president’s security personal of the possible risks? He didn’t think so, as those men were trained for the job. They did it twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, and in a foreign country they could not be more alert. Besides, he could not confirm a direct threat against the president.
Bronson knew that the Eagle Team was highly experienced. At present, they were finding the mission frustrating. They had some leads, but no solid leads.
Once again, Bronson cursed the loss of the agent in Hong Kong. He could have cleaned up the whole situation. Now he and his team were working in the dark. Bronson had no way of knowing that within the next twenty-four hours the president was going to be put at the highest risk possible, with one presidential agent against four trained assassins.
The smell of fresh coffee woke Child from him sleep. He could hear Ritson humming softly out in the kitchen. Child reached out and softly caressed Samantha’s naked back and down to her hip. His hand went down and gently rubbed her buttocks until she rolled over towards Child. Child slipped his hand down and cupped her gluteus muscle and pulled her towards him. He kissed her slowly, gradually building up pressure with his tongue probing inside her mouth. Samantha responded to his overtures by pressing her hips up into Child’s groin and sucking on his probing tongue. Pulling apart at last, Child cupped Samantha’s firm breast in his hand, his thumb gently circling her hardening nipple…
Later that morning, Child and Samantha joined Ritson and Gray for breakfast. The motel suite had a faint musty smell and the windows were flung open in an attempt to air it out. Their first coffee was cold by the time they sat down at the table, but Ritson didn’t comment and just re-boiled the jug to make another brew.
Child felt a lot better today. He briefly wondered if Steve and Gray had heard Samantha’s muffled cries as they made love this morning, before deciding that he didn’t really care either way.
Child had almost fully recovered from his late night being chased by the Black Power gang. However, something still nagged at his mind. A comment in the discussions last night should have triggered a response, but nothing came to mind. He could recall most of the conversations in detail. This was a skill picked up when challenged by students about who had said what and when, but still nothing triggered his memory.
Child turned on the television to catch the morning news. He had wanted to see the developments on the car explosion at Mount Eden yesterday. It rated a brief mention as being related to gang rivalry. Child turned away from the screen and was about to join the others, when he heard the newsreader pause during his piece about a meeting between the President of the United States and the President of the Republic of China. Child couldn’t believe what he heard.
‘In breaking news, local business Albert Joshua Whittingham was found dead in the early hours of this morning. Further details are yet to be confirmed, but we do know that Mr Whittingham was taking an evening walk and fell victim to hit-and-run accident with an unmarked automobile. He died on the way to hospital. He was suffering from massive internal injuries.
‘Albert Whittingham was a leading economic industrialist, with interests in many companies both here in New Zealand and abroad, most notably in Japan, Australia, and both North and South America. He is survived by his wife and their two children.’
Child said nothing. He stared at the wall, deep in thought. Ritson, Samantha and Gray stood anxiously next to the settee, unnerved by the news.
Now what?
What of the plans they had made last night?
No one believed the hit-and-run was an accident. Child knew that there were no coincidences in this game. Whittingham had been murdered. By whom and what for were the real questions now. Had they been discovered? Was someone watching them now? If not, who else would want to kill Whittingham?
There was no talk in the group of giving up. Should they go to the police with what they knew already?
Will the bugs in Whittingham’s office and home be found? Can they be traced back to them? The questions flew, with opinions varied between Ritson, Gray and Samantha.
The only thing they could agree on was that they had to do something.
Child said nothing and continued to stare blankly at the wall. Slowly, he came to the only possible conclusion. He was about to join in the discussion when the doorbell rang.
Ritson opened the door.
It was the police.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Kioki was dressing for the day and was about to go down for breakfast when the news of Whittingham’s death flashed onto the television. When there appeared to be no mention of foul play involved in the hit-and-run, he continued dressing. He would have good news to report to Ishada when he called later that morning. The only dark cloud over the operation was the continued presence of Child. Now that the one link Child had to him was removed, Kioki could continue with his plans in relative security.
Kioki pulled the curtain and looked out at the brilliant morning sun. It bathed the city centre with a bright but warming glow. The city was slowly coming alive below the looming height of the hotel. The cars were moving like a regiment of ants, and humans scurrying along the streets only emphasised the image.
For Kioki, it was a great day to be alive. A great day for plans. As nightfall would settle over the city later on, so would death. Death to the enemies of Kang Industries, of Ishada, of Kioki. Death would come, shocking the world.
Kioki went down to breakfast, contented.
Tagahasi awoke at 5.30am as always. He carefully climbed out of his sleeping bag and rolled off his stretcher bed. Dressing casually in light cotton shirt and pants, he performed his customary half hour of light calisthenics and stretching, before he allowed himself to go into the next room to see what the computer had collated during the night. Punching in the required start up configuration, he searched the name Whittingham. He then moved into the next room and put on the new Kovia primus for his morning cup of green tea.
It was only after his tea and microwaved the remai
ns of last night’s dinner of fish and noodles, that Tagahasi allowed himself to return to his computer screen. He knew from many years of experience that once he started on his work, he could continue for hours, sometimes days, without any thought to his personal wellbeing. In the interest of his health, he had started his own regime of eating a full breakfast before work.
Walking to the computer, he typed in the remaining passwords to allow its full operational ability. He had only to wait a couple of minutes before the computer screen began to fill up with all conversations happening over the many communication networks that had Whittingham had mentioned.
In stunned disbelief, Tagahasi read the breaking news reports.
He reached for his cellphone and punched in Kioki’s number, his throat dry.
While he waited for Kioki to answer the call, he wondered what had gone so wrong.
Eagle One awoke at dawn. He had always been an early riser. He opened his bedroom curtain with a strange sense of foreboding. His companions were asleep in the room next door.
Rank did have its privileges. He got the double bed while the others shared the twin single rooms. He looked out at the morning sun, with red light reflecting from under the layer of high cloud. It looked like another perfect day in paradise.
Eagle One felt none of the contentment that he habitually felt at this time in the morning. His gut instinct told him that they were running out of time. Whittingham was the key to this mission, and now he was dead.
Eagle Three had been monitoring the Whittingham residence last night. He had discretely followed Whittingham when he left for an evening walk. Eagle Three had been too far away to prevent the accident occurring, but he was first on the scene afterwards. It had only been his diplomatic immunity that had prevented him from being taken in and questioned.
Eagle Three had been following Whittingham closely enough to witness his brief conversation with a small, dark-haired man on the side of the road. This same man had pushed Whittingham out in front of a fast-moving van. The van hit Whittingham squarely with full force before screeching to a halt. The small, dark-haired man walked over to Whittingham as he lay in the road, checked his injuries before running to and getting into the van. The van had then sped off into the darkness.
The whole incident had happened so quickly that Eagle Three was unable to get an accurate fix on the van’s number plate.
The covert operation, which was supposed to be kept as quiet as possible, was now blown apart. His team had co-operated with the local police, giving their statements about their connection to Whittingham. The statements were kept as brief as possible and filed for police eyes only. They had then withdrawn from the investigation. Several police officers were now going through all of Whittingham’s affairs as part of the investigation into his death. So far, they had found no connection between Whittingham and Blue Water Securities.
Eagle Team had decided to penetrate Blue Water Securities that very morning. Smaille was still hoping to get a lead on what sort of operation was being run out of its offices. His loyalty was to the United States, and if his employers could use the intelligence that he gained, then that was what he would do.
Eagle Thee was desperate to know why Whittingham been killed. Killing wasn’t that unusual in his business, but it was always done for a purpose. Was their surveillance of Whittingham noticed, triggering a severe response? Had Whittingham simply outlived his usefulness in whatever business deal he was entangled in? Could it be something unrelated to Blue Water Securities?
One thing Eagle Three knew for sure was that Whittingham’s death was no accident.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Ritson opened the door to welcome Sergeant Bill Bender and Sergeant Lou Chappell into the motel suite. Both men were dressed casually in jeans and cotton shirts with the addition of police issue jackets.
Simon and Samantha rose to meet the newcomers. After brief introductions, Ritson lead the way back into the lounge. Child held Bender back for a moment.
‘How did it go, Bill?’
Bender hung back and lowered his voice to speak to Child.
‘I told him exactly what you asked,’ Bender whispered. ‘I said that you had definite proof of the man behind the drug smuggling, and that I was going down to Auckland to help.’
‘And his reaction?’ asked Child.
‘He was calm but firm on his decision that he should come too.’
‘Yeah, I thought as much,’ said Child grimly. ‘Anything else happen?’
‘Only that he tried to make a phone call. Don’t think he got through though, as he wasn’t gone long.’
‘Okay, thanks for the update Bill.’
‘Look, what’s going on here?’ Bill asked quietly.
‘You’ll find out soon enough…’ Child said, not giving anything away just yet. ‘Did you have the radio on coming down?’
‘No, we listened to Harry Connick Junior on the way down.’
‘Right. Let’s join the others then.’
Child and Bender joined the group in the lounge area. Samantha was passing around coffee to Ritson and Chappell.
‘We’ll have some too,’ said Child. ‘Thanks, Sam.’
Samantha turned to Bender with a smile.
‘Black with two sugars if I remember correctly?’
‘You’ve got a good memory,’ Bender smiled back. ‘I can’t remember much from that night. Thanks.’
Bender sat down in a vacant lounge chair. Chappell dropped down onto the faded settee, his eyes fixed on Ritson who sat in the kitchen chair opposite him. Samantha finished handing out the coffee before seating herself on the last available chair. There was an air of expectancy as people sipped their coffee, waiting for Child to start speaking.
Bender sensed that Ritson was unusually tense, and while he didn’t know Samantha well, she too appeared nervous. Chappell seemed blissfully unaware of the tension hanging in the air. He sipped his coffee without making a comment, his gaze settled steadily on Child, waiting for him to get started.
Child took a couple of sips of coffee before placing the cup next to him on the table. He leant back in his chair, making himself comfortable.
‘Well, you’ll all be wanting to hear what I have to say,’ he began. ‘I’m going to tell you about a major player in the drug smuggling ring — a person whose sole motive was profit, and profit on a large scale.’
Child paused for a moment, looking around at each person. He had their undivided attention.
‘Firstly, I want to give a brief run down about what’s happened so far,’ Child continued. ‘While rescuing Hans and Yens from Goat Island, I was almost knocked out by a rogue container in the water. The following day, Samantha and I went diving under the island to retrieve the container. During the trip, we noticed a fishing boat circling close to the shore. We guessed that they were looking for the same container. Now, on this boat there must have been rather worried men. They knew what was in the container and what its contents was worth, but they couldn’t locate it. They couldn’t land in that boat, and we made no secret of what we were doing on our dive. It sat in the inflatable holding container, plain as day. So, what do these guys in the fishing boat do next?’
Child’s question was met with silence. After a brief moment, Ritson piped up.
‘Okay, Simon, what do they do next?’
‘Well, for a start they don’t panic. They ring up their contact and describe us to them. Considering how quickly they countered our discovery, it’s obvious that they already had land-based assistants in the area,’ Child explained. ‘So, they ring up the land connection. Whoever this guy is, this is the boss. He tells them not to worry and to move away from the shore. But now the big boss has a problem — how to retrieve the smuggled drugs?’
Child paused again, his eyes scanning each face in the room.
‘The boss is obviously a local, who knows that Steve and I belong to the local fire brigade. So, he calls up a false alarm at a location a sufficient distance away.
Ritson and I headed off on a wild goose chase, and the boss gets a couple of his lads to raid my place and retrieve the drugs.’
Child paused and took another sip of coffee.
Everyone looked back at Child with various expressions, ranging from the intensely curious to a concentrated stare.
‘Now, I report the drugs to Bill. Bill then reports the news to you, Lou. Lastly, Lou passes the news on to the drug squad in Auckland, but without any goods to show there is no real proof. Then Steve and I get nosy and try to find out what has happened. While Steve works on the registry of the boat, I start to talk to some locals. The boat is probably falsely registered and any trails of information have been stopped.
‘Then Lou tries to dissuade me from looking any further into this, as he knows that the best place to talk to fishermen is in the local pub. Next thing I know, three gang members find me at the pub, rough me up and tell me to stop nosing into business that isn’t mine.’
Child paused again, allowing time for the information to sink in.
‘Now the next bit is conjecture, but I’m reasonably confident about it, as it fits the events. Sometime in the hours following the attack on me at the pub, the drugs reach the main man behind this whole operation. It’s only then that he learns that something is missing: a computer board. This unique component had been smuggled into the country in the same container as the drugs. In fact, the drugs were just a cover for this board. So now the main man urgently needs the computer board back in his possession…
Child noticed an uncomfortable feeling settling in the room as he revealed his take on recent events. He continued speaking, his eyes focused on the wall in front.
‘Later that same night, I get visit in hospital from a man disguising his voice. He demands to know where the computer board is being kept. With me all drugged up on painkillers and semi-conscious, I don’t know what was happening or who the intruder is. I almost tell him where the board was, but he suddenly disappears from my room.