Red Dragons

by K W Frost

  Smaille suspected that they would have to break in after-hours later tonight. Stulz would dress smartly and pose as a traveling sales rep. He would speak to the receptionist while Smaille conducted a swift investigation. They planned to carry hidden digital cameras and miniature tape decks. They would also need to be armed.

  Goody and Harrison had been in position for an hour, reporting on any movement from in and out of the building. They were up on a second story floor that looked over the main entrance of the grey office building. With the curtains almost drawn and the room in partial darkness, Goody and Harrison were free from any detection down on the street.

  That morning, there had been a sparse, but constant flow of people in and out of the grey office building. Unfortunately, they were in no position to tell which floor each person came from within the building. They kept a close lookout on the sixth floor of the building, but so far nothing seemed obviously suspicious.

  With the constant coming and going of people from the building, there was no reason for Goody and Harrison to pay particular attention to the silver-haired old man who limped into the offices carrying a cane and a small sachet bag, nor the bulky businessman dressed in a start suit who followed ten minutes later.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  While Child took Samantha out for lunch, Ritson and Gray were asked to undertake some quiet surveillance on Blue Water Securities. Ritson was annoyed. It didn’t matter to him that Child had correctly assumed that the bugging of Whittingham’s office meant that the opposition would now have a good idea of his identity. If they viewed office security footage, then they would find clear images of Child and Samantha talking in the building’s foyer. No, what really annoyed Ritson was that he was missing out on some fine Asian cuisine, which was his favourite food.

  Gray entered the weathered office building and punched the elevator button for the fifth floor. Once up there, he walked past each office taking mental notes of the general layout. He peered slowly at each office door, reading their signs.

  Gray thought this part of the job was a little unnecessary, but Child had insisted saying that not only was it good practice for him, but he would then know the general layout of the office spaces.

  Once he had completed the fifth floor, he punched the elevator button for the sixth floor. To the average passerby, Gray looked like an ageing, absent-minded professor, with his shabby suit and skewed tie. He wore thick glasses and walked with an oak walking cane. He didn’t pose a physical threat to anyone, but his mind was still razor sharp and reactions deceptively quick.

  Gray waited patiently for the elevator up to carry him up to sixth floor.

  When the doors opened, Gray found the layout to be an exact replica of the floor below. There was a small reception area beside the elevators, two chairs with worn covers and rimu wood arm rests facing the exit, and stretching out before him was the corridor with offices branching out from each side. Half way along the corridor a cleaner was mopping the Lino floor. The bright fluorescent lighting overhead only highlighted the offices worn out condition.

  Slowly, Gray shuffled along the corridor, peering intently at each office sign. At the second door, he pulled a piece of paper from his bag and looked at it before continuing along the corridor. As he passed by the cleaner Gray gave him a short nod, noting the strong, clean features of the young Chinese man.

  When he reached the end of the corridor, Gray paused in front of a sign that read Blue Water Securities. He glanced down at his piece of paper again and with a small shake of his head, headed back down the corridor, still closely inspecting the signs on the doors. Passing the cleaner once again, Gray edged around the slippery area of floor.

  Next, he looked at his watch and pulled out his piece of paper again. He checked his watch again. He then gingerly lowered himself down into a seat in the reception area. While he waited, he reached down into his bag, moved aside the can of modified mace aerosol and his stun gun, and pulled out set of headphones and scuffed paperback novel. He settled in for a long wait.

  Gray had seen that the New Zealand police were testing both the aerosol spray and stun guns for effectiveness. He had decided to make his own specialised versions, and they had worked well in his own trials. However, he had never tried them against a real opponent. Now they sat in his duffle bag, just within arm’s reach.

  Ritson arrived at the grey office building few minutes later carrying a traditional black leather briefcase. He was dressed like rugby player in a suit: solid and slightly uncomfortable. He subconsciously lifted the collar of his white shirt and tried to loosen the brightly coloured tie constricting his neck.

  A man called Charlie Foley, a short weedy looking man joined Ritson. He wore a coffee-coloured suit and black shoes, sported a pencil-thin moustache and carried his briefcase in a way that suggested it was too heavy for him.

  Foley worked for the rental agency that had tried to fill the office spaces in the grey building. When they had received a call from a prospective client wishing to view the available spaces, Foley had rushed down to Queen Street with the hopes of securing a rental. He met Ritson in the lobby before ushering him up to the seventh floor first, before moving down to the sixth.

  The two men were hardly out of the elevator before Foley launched into his salesman spiel on Ritson.

  ‘Now on this floor, Mr Woodley, we have three office spaces available,’ Foley said smoothly. ‘All the offices are similar to the sizes you specified.’

  Foley lead the way down the corridor, ignoring Gray as he sat quietly reading his book in one of the chairs. Ritson couldn’t resist a quick glance over at Gray, but he gave no hint of recognition.

  ‘You know my requirements, Mr Foley,’ Ritson said coolly.

  ‘Mr Woodley, please call me Charlie,’ Foley interjected, desperately trying to get on familiar terms with his prospective client.

  ‘All right, Charlie,’ Ritson complied. ‘I was quite clear in my instructions about the space I need — if the space is too small then it is just not going to be suitable.’

  Ritson walked briskly along the corridor, talking and gesturing as he went.

  ‘Here is the first office space, Mr Woodley,’ Foley said as they reach one of the offices on the right-hand side.

  Reaching into his pocket, Foley produced an impressive bunch of keys. Selecting one, he opened the office door.

  ‘Inside we have two rooms, the first one… ‘

  Foley’s voice faded from earshot as he marched into the office. Ritson followed Foley in, maintaining his haughty persona. Ritson was growing impatient, wanting to get closer to the Blue Water Securities offices.

  Out in the reception room, Gray gently tapped his foot against his bag, hoping to change the direction of the small but powerful directional microphone that he had hidden inside, with the hope of getting better reception. Foley and Ritson could be clearly heard as they exited the office door.

  ‘No, Mr Foley, this won’t be suitable for my plans,’ Ritson said loudly.

  ‘Call me Charlie, please, Mr Woodley,’ Foley replied.

  ‘Yes, Charlie… the thing is, I have a clear picture in my mind of the office that I require, and if this office block doesn’t have it then I’ll have to look elsewhere.’

  Ritson turned on is heel and headed back towards the elevator. Foley looked up and down the corridor, his desperation growing, and scurried after Ritson.

  ‘Mr Woodley, the next office down is slightly larger, with a better view as well!’

  Ritson stopped and turned back towards Foley.

  ‘Well, okay… we can take a look,’ Ritson said. ‘Charlie, what else is on this floor?’

  ‘We have five other offices currently being used here, Mr Woodley,’ Foley explained. ‘Let’s see… there’s an insurance claims investigator, a small packaging company, some accountants and a securities firm. All have been very happy with the services that we provide.’

  Foley didn’t miss a trick when it came to promoting a product.
Ritson turned to see that Foley had a slightly irritated look on his face. Silently, Ritson side stepped the cleaner and his trolley before Foley could continue. Ritson eyes had picked out the small sign on the next door down that read Blue Water Securities.

  ‘Now, Charlie, what about this one?’ asked Ritson.

  ‘Yes, an excellent choice, Mr Woodley,’ Foley replied. ’As I’ve said before, there are slightly larger rooms available, and there’s a sea view from the window.

  Foley swiftly opened the door and stepped inside.

  ‘Yes, there’s a spacious desk over there, and over here there’s room for…’

  Foley’s voice faded from Gray’s hearing for which he has thankful. Gray reflected that if Foley didn’t stop talking soon, he would be lucky to get away without Ritson bopping him one. He settled back into his book to bide his time.

  Inside the empty office space, Ritson walked slowly through each of the three rooms. As we went, he took rough step measurements, completely ignoring Foley’s verbal patter. Finally, he stopped and looked directly at Foley. He smiled widely and clapped him forcefully on the shoulder.

  ‘Yes, Mr Foley this will do,’ Ritson grinned. ‘I’m a man who makes decisions and I have found I rarely make a bad one. If the gut instinct feels good then I go for it, and this feels good. Now, I would like to move in straight away if that’s okay.’

  ‘Certainly,’ Foley replied, a look of relief on his thin face. ‘We just have to sign a few papers and it’s all yours.’

  ‘Good, I’ll pop over to your office this afternoon and I’ll bring my credit card,’ Ritson stated firmly. ‘You’ll want a months rent in advance, of course.’

  ‘Oh yes, that that will be fine,’ stammered Foley, unwilling to upset a ready customer.

  Ritson lead Foley out towards the door, only to stop just short of it.

  ‘Look, would you mind if I stayed here a short while?’ Ritson asked casually. ‘I want to get more of a feel of the place, if possible.’

  ‘Certainly, Mr Woodley,’ Foley agreed. ‘Just close the office door behind you and you can pick up a set of keys when I see you later this afternoon.’

  ‘Fine, fine, good I’ll see you then,’ Ritson nodded, almost pushing Foley out of the door.

  Ritson listened to Foley’s footsteps disappearing down the corridor. When he was certain Foley was gone, Ritson opened up his briefcase and took out the top layer. Underneath was a sophisticated listening and recording device. Slipping on the headgear, Ritson turned on the machine. Once he had confirmed that everything was working, he took out an enlarged fold-out cylinder. Pressing it against the wall that housed Blue Water Securities, Ritson moved the device slowly over the wall trying to ascertain where the best reception could be received.

  Smaille and Stulz glanced briefly at each other as they rose in the elevator up to the sixth floor of the grey office building. Both men were highly trained professionals and they didn’t need explanations.

  When the elevator doors opened, Smaille was the first person to enter the reception area. He strode out confidently, quickly putting distance between himself and Stulz. He looked at each office as he strode along but he was only interested in one. Stulz took quick look around the dingy reception area. An old man was stretched out on one of the chairs reading a book. There was no receptionist to converse with, and no one else to try selling his stationery goods to. The old man in the chair slowly lowered his book and looked up at him in a questioning way. Stulz, realising that he had to move on, followed Smaille along the corridor.

  As soon as Stulz had moved passed him, Gray pulled the plug from the listening equipment and pushed the headphones into his cell phone. He punched in a two-digit code he had on speed dial.

  Down the corridor in the office space, Ritson’s cell phone beeped. He answered immediately.

  ‘Yes, Woodley here.’

  ‘Two men. Europeans. Business suits. Approaching the offices down the corridor. Could be customers,’ Gray reported in a whisper.

  ‘Okay, so far I’ve heard two or maybe three voices speaking in Japanese through the wall,’ Ritson reported back. ‘I haven’t understood a word.’

  ‘We’ll get the recording translated later,’ Gray replied.

  Gray peered down at his highly polished shoes. The shine reflected, if somewhat imperfectly, the movements down the corridor.

  ‘Looks like a visitor has arrived at our target,’ Gray muttered.

  ‘I’ll keep monitoring,’ Ritson replied. ‘Change channels so you can listen in as well.’

  Gray swiftly adjusted a switch on the listening equipment and tuned into the conversation Ritson had been listening to.

  Smaille paused outside the Blue Water Securities offices. He briefly glanced back at Stulz, who appeared to be casually reading names of the businesses as he passed their doors. Smaille knew that the next few minutes needed to go to plan, otherwise this whole mission in New Zealand could be a bust. Brushing down his suit jacket and taking a deep breath, he opened the doors into Blue Water Securities.

  What Smaille didn’t know — and could not have known before this moment — was that he was already a marked man. His cover had been blown even before he opened the door. He had been marked for termination.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Child found a car park on Ponsonby Road, and he and Samantha set off to join the pre-lunch bustle along the trendy street lined with cafes. Slipping a hand around her waist and giving a warm smile, Child led Samantha out into the pedestrian traffic. She responded with a smile of her own, and placed her hand on Child’s lower back. To any passer-by, they looked like a happy couple with time to stroll along in search of a relaxing lunch spot.

  However, Child had a specific destination in mind.

  Samantha’s mind was still boiling and churning over the events from the morning. She was thinking about what would happen next. She felt like they should be doing something positive and taking action, yet here they were, aimlessly strolling along Ponsonby Road. Not that she wouldn’t have minded the walk on a different day, as there was a lot that she liked about Child, but she would enjoy a lunch date more when this mess was over. Child didn’t appear to be worried at all by the morning’s events. He was smiling and enjoying the sunshine, looking like any other tourist on the street.

  Suddenly, Child stopped. He glanced down a side street at a restaurant sign.

  ‘This is the place,’ he said to Samantha, leading them off towards the restaurant. ‘I hope that you like Asian food as this is supposed to be the best in town.’

  ‘Sure,’ replied Samantha, unmoved by the thought of noodles. She peered up at the bright red colours of the Lah Wah restaurant’s exterior and signage.

  Child picked up on her unenthused vibes.

  ‘Come on, Sam,’ he smiled. ‘Let’s just take this time to relax. This place comes highly recommended, so I’m sure you’ll love it. I only hope that we can get in!’

  Samantha shook her head as if to say I don’t know what’s happening right now but I will play along with your silly game.

  A sign on the restaurant door read: Open for lunch only. Closed from 3pm.

  ‘Let’s go in,’ Child said, ‘we might just be lucky.’

  Once inside, Child and Samantha were ushered to table on the far wall of the restaurant. The red colour scheme was present indoors too. Child casually looked around the room, noting the plush layout with red backgrounds and black trim. No fewer than five shining gold dragons laden with red and black tassels adorned the walls. He noticed how the deep red carpet was long and lush. Blood could be spilt on it and it wouldn’t show a drop. On the wall opposite their table hung a round, shield-like symbol. It was an intricate black dragon with two protruding tongues.

  The waiter politely handed out menus and a wine list before leaving with a soft bow. Samantha inspected menu while Child opened the wine list. He saw what he wanted and shut it again.

  Child’s eyes took in every inch of the interior of the famou
s restaurant. He looked carefully at each of the three waiters, admiring the elegant way they moved between the tables, making their service seem effortless. Even though it was still early for lunch, the restaurant was filling fast, with a range of customers already seated.

  Samantha closed her menu and placed it on the table. She leant forward towards Child.

  ‘Just tell me why we’re really here and not helping Steve and Gray investigate Blue Water Securities instead,’ she whispered.

  Child was momentarily distracted by Samantha’s cleavage as she leant in closely to avoid being overheard. He picked up her hand from the table, ensuring that they were seen as two lovers whispering sweet nothings to each other.

  ‘Sam, as I’ve already told you, we would be recognised at the offices… or at least I think we would be recognised,’ Child explained. ‘We’re dealing with powerful people here, and if we think of something clever then we can be sure they won’t be far behind us. Besides, Steve and Gray are only there to observe and gather any snippets of information along the way.’

  ‘Isn’t it risky for them though?’

  ‘They’re big boys and they can look after themselves,’ Child said confidently. ‘Anyway, here comes our waiter,’ he added quietly.

  The waiter glided up to their table. With an admiring glance at Samantha, he then turned to smile at Child.

  A startled look crossed the waiter’s face, but he quickly recovered himself.

  ‘Are you ready to order, sir?’ he asked politely.

  ‘Yes, we’ll have the five-course lunch banquet for two, and a bottle of Heron’s Flight Chardonnay l999, please,’ Child said.

  ‘Excellent choice, sir,’ the waiter nodded as he retreated swiftly from the table. ‘Your wine will be with you in just a minute.’