by Sean Black
That Lock could believe.
“We’re going to need some compensation on top of what we already agreed,” Orzana continued. “Those men had families, kids of their own.”
Lock hadn’t considered it in those terms, but it was true. Even hired killers and kidnappers had responsibilities. He wasn’t going to argue about who was liable. They just needed this done, and fast. Before anyone else got hurt, including Emily and Charlie. “I’m sure we can factor that in.”
“There’s no ‘sure’ about it, you’re gonna have to. And my broker’s fee just went up too. I want twenty per cent of whatever’s agreed. On top.”
“Five.”
“Ten.”
“Done.”
Lock holstered his weapon. He extended his hand. In the end, money had won out. It usually did.
48
It was remarkable how quickly a few hundred thousand dollars could transform the relationship dynamic between two people. Especially when one was a scumbag criminal like Noah Orzana. Now Orzana had skin in the game, things should run more smoothly. And, crucially, Lock had made sure that Orzana knew he wouldn’t see his finder’s fee until the exchange had taken place, and Emily and Charlie were safe.
That alone made Lock feel better about the whole deal. He made a mental note to try to build that extra failsafe measure into any future kidnap-for-ransom cases. There would be more, he knew. In a world of ever-tightening security the two growth areas in the past decade had been cybercrime and kidnap for ransom. One high tech, one distinctly low tech, they both offered guaranteed high returns, albeit with different risks.
Lock pulled the Audi to the curb four blocks away from the auto shop. Orzana had assumed Ty’s regular shotgun position in the passenger seat.
The two men shook hands.
“Let’s just get this done,” Lock told him.
“Fine by me,” said Orzana, exiting the car.
Their financial agreement would stay between them. It was in neither party’s interest to make Orzana’s colleagues aware of it. That suited Lock. It gave him additional leverage over El Mecánico, should he need it.
Ty walked toward Lock’s car and got in. The mechanics would be hustling to the bench to collect their cell phones and power them up. There would be a scramble on to see who could be first to alert their boss. Lock wondered if it would secure any of them an Employee of the Month ribbon.
“How’d it go?” Ty asked, as Lock floored it down the alleyway and hung a right.
“Better than I could have hoped. I brought Orzana on board to broker the deal.”
“Thought he was doing that already.”
“He was, but now he has a direct financial incentive to make sure it all goes down as it should. They also want compensation for the four guys who were killed. I just need to sell the additional expenditure to our client.”
“Damn, Ryan, can’t see that being an issue. He was going to give them ten a piece before you intervened. Good work, brother.”
Ty reached over to hit the button to push his seat back and accommodate his long legs. They bumped fists.
“Yeah, let’s not count our chickens just yet, though. We still have a tiger on the prowl out there.”
“No kidding,” said Ty. “He’s about the only thing that could screw up this whole deal right now.”
“I already have Carl working that angle,” said Lock. “I messaged him on the way over to Orzana’s place. He’s checking with a contact at Homeland Security, seeing if we can’t figure out when he landed on US soil and if he left any clues.”
“Why don’t we just inform LAPD or the Feds?” Ty asked. “They have the resources to track him down.”
“I thought about that, but it’d involve a lot of questions. Questions we don’t want to answer just yet. Or, at least, not until we’ve made the trade.”
“Yeah,” mused Ty. “That makes sense.”
Law enforcement tended to treat kidnappings as purely criminal. The aim was to track down the culprits and bring them to justice. Lock, like a lot of people in private security, came at it from a different angle. He saw his primary duty as ensuring the safe return of the victim or victims. The crime and punishment part came after that, if at all.
Just as law enforcement didn’t want ransoms paid because it encouraged repeat offending, Lock saw hunting down a kidnapper after the deal as creating a problem for future transactions. It wasn’t exactly welching on a deal, but kidnappers or kidnap gangs liked to stay at liberty to enjoy their ill-gotten gains.
As a general rule, Lock thought it better to let sleeping dogs lie. As long as the kidnapper understood that what had just transpired was strictly a one-time deal.
They headed west, away from the grinding poverty of East LA, and back toward the near-obscene opulence of Beverly Hills: America’s great paradox laid bare in a journey of less than ten miles.
Lock wanted to return to the penthouse suite. The negotiation would be easier to conclude quickly if he was in the room with the man who’d be authorizing the ransom payment. But first they’d need proof of life.
“Live stream,” said Lock.
“You think they’ll go for it?” Ty asked him. “That stuff is easy to track.”
“Not if they’re clever about it. They can use a bunch of proxies, route it through half a dozen different countries before it gets to us. Plus, if they have any sense, they’ll move them immediately after they do the stream. Or they can just move the device or destroy it entirely.”
Lock doubted it would get that complicated. Digital communications left an electronic trail, but those trails were usually time-consuming to unpick, even for governments.
“And what if they’ve anticipated that and pre-recorded some footage?”
“I’m going to have Chow Yan talk with them in Mandarin, ask questions. If they’ve pre-recorded video footage, we’ll know.”
“Okay,” said Ty, apparently satisfied. “Sounds solid.”
It was. Without getting carried away, Lock felt they were close to wrapping this up. Cutting Orzana into the deal had given him renewed confidence. Once they had confirmed that Emily and Charlie were still alive, they could agree the terms and make the exchange.
Ty was looking pensively out of the passenger window.
“Something bothering you?” Lock asked.
“I was just thinking about the kid, Emily.”
“What about her?”
“Well, lots of kids don’t have one father who gives a shit about them, and she’s got one who’ll pay ten million dollars to keep her safe, and another who’ll kill for her.”
Ty had never had a relationship with his father. As with a lot of kids from his community in Long Beach, it had been left to his mother to raise him. Lock had been fortunate in that respect. He’d been close to both his parents.
They turned onto Rodeo Drive. Lock was turning over in his mind what Ty had just said. Something about it bothered him.
“Kind of begs the question, though, doesn’t it?”
“What question’s that?” said Ty.
“If you have someone on deck who’s prepared to hand over a pile of cash to get your kid back, why not let them handle it? Why take all these risks?”
Ty shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe he feels like he has a point to prove. If you had a child, and someone kidnapped them, what would you do? Especially if it wasn’t the first time.”
Lock knew the answer. Things would get very ugly, very quickly. “I’m not buying it. The guy gets on a plane, and comes all this way, goes and takes out a bunch of MS-13 associates, when all he needs to do is let someone else make a payment. There’s something more going on here.”
“Like what?” said Ty.
“I don’t know.” He couldn’t put his finger on it, but something felt off.
“Look, Ryan, we’re talking about the man’s flesh and blood. Maybe it just is what it is.”
“And that’s?”
“The man’s violent. No one can argue that. H
is kid is taken from him. He tracks her down after all these years only to find she’s in a world of trouble. You really think he’s going to leave it to the man who took her to make things right?”
Lock didn’t reply. Ty was right. Of course he was. What he’d just said was all the explanation that was needed. But the niggling feeling that they were missing something didn’t leave him.
His cell phone rang. The number had been withheld. Lock tapped to answer.
“We’re ready to go with this whole proof-of-life deal,” said Orzana.
Giving Orzana a direct financial interest was working beautifully. With good will on both sides, they might just be able to wrap up the nightmare today.
“Okay, I’m about ten minutes from the client,” said Lock, checking the time on the car’s display. “Give me about thirty and we can do this.”
“We can’t do it now?” Orzana was agitated. “I have everything set up.”
“Thirty minutes,” said Lock, killing the call.
Lock stood with Chow Yan and Li Yeng in front of the large display screen in the living area of the opulent suite. Ty pressed a button to lower the blinds and the room dimmed, cutting down on any screen glare and ensuring that no one in the building opposite would be able to catch even the tiniest glimpse of what they were about to watch.
On Lock’s instructions, Li had set things up so that the live video feed would play on a laptop computer. A dongle plugged into it would cast the video onto the screen. Lock had also had Li install software that simultaneously recorded the feed so that they could review it later. Everything told him that they were on the home stretch, and ready to wrap things up, but it was crucial never to take anything for granted.
Ty adjusted the lighting in the room, using the Creston panel sitting on the coffee-table, and joined them in front of the screen. It was displaying the desktop view from the laptop computer. Skype, video-conferencing software, was open.
Chow Yan glanced at his watch, a Patek Philippe that would cost the guts of two hundred thousand dollars down on Rodeo. The seconds were dragging for everyone in the room, but more for him than anyone else. He was doing his best to look composed and in control, but Lock could tell from his body language that he was barely holding it together.
You could be one of the richest men in the world, but family and those closest to you being in pain or under threat was the great equalizer. No amount of money could relieve emotional pain.
The Skype icon pulsed, signaling an incoming call. Lock placed a reassuring hand on Chow Yan’s shoulder as Li stepped back toward the laptop, ready to accept the call at Lock’s signal.
“You ready?” said Lock.
Chow Yan took a deep breath. “Yes.”
Lock had already warned his client about the state hostages can be in after even a short period. They may look disheveled. They may have signs of physical abuse: bruising; abrasions; visible wounds. Worse, they may demonstrate signs of having suffered psychological trauma. Eye contact, speech patterns, their body language may all be different.
“It’s going to be upsetting.” Lock had told him. “There’s no way for it not to be. But the most important thing is that you remain calm for their sake. And, remember, the kidnappers will be watching your reaction. The more distress and emotion you show, the more likely they are to think they have additional leverage.”
It was for all those reasons that this part of the negotiation was best handled by a third party. But that wasn’t an option this time: professional hostage negotiators were thin on the ground, and those who could speak English and Mandarin or Cantonese even more so.
That meant this part would have to be handled by Chow and Li, while Lock would take care of the next stages of the process.
As the Skype window opened, Li adjusted the position of the laptop so that its camera was facing Chow Yan. Lock and Ty both stepped to the side, staying out of the direct line of sight but ensuring they had a good view of the screen.
There was a brief pause and then the screen mounted on the wall lit up with a video image of a sun-splashed room filled with natural light. Emily Yan was perched at the end of a queen-sized bed. She looked tired, frayed around the edges, and at least a decade older than her tender years. There were dark circles under her eyes, and hastily applied make-up appeared to conceal bruising on one side of her face.
Lock watched as Chow Yan dredged up a smile, taking the advice Lock had given him. Even if you don’t feel strong, give the appearance of strength for them.
He started to speak with Emily in Mandarin. Ty leaned in next to Lock.
“Where’s Charlie?”
Lock had been wondering the same. They needed evidence that they were both alive. Assuming, of course, that they were.
Lock waved Li Yeng over. “Get him to ask where his nephew is.”
Li Yeng flitted back to Chow Yan and whispered in his ear. Lock lasered all his attention on Emily. Her eyes kept flitting from the screen, where she could see her father, to the left, where presumably one or more of the kidnappers were stationed.
As Chow Yan asked Emily about Charlie—Lock picked out the name in English—she looked back to the same spot.
“My father wants to see Charlie,” she said in English, to whoever was standing off camera.
There was the sound of staccato chatter in Spanish, and of a door opening. Emily snuck nervous glances toward it.
Lock stiffened. There had to be a reason that Charlie hadn’t been in front of the camera. After all, from the kidnappers’ point of view this was a simple matter of showcasing the goods before a price was agreed and they were exchanged for money.
Chow Yan said something else to Emily in Mandarin. She was midway through her reply when a hulking figure in black sweats whose face was covered with a mask, entered the frame, grabbed her arm, and pulled her to her feet.
A door slammed, and Charlie was shoved roughly onto the bed. His face was badly bruised, and his nose was squashed to one side. One of his eyes was almost completely closed. He sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the floor.
Chow Yan gazed at the screen, frozen. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out.
Lock walked over and took his place as Ty guided the business tycoon to one of the couches.
“Charlie,” Lock said to the laptop camera. “Charlie, look at me.”
Charlie looked up, terrified.
“Charlie,” said Lock. “This is all going to be over soon, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Until then I want you to do what you’re asked by these people. Don’t create any problems for them. Don’t resist. Don’t attempt to escape. I’m going to have you back with your family very soon.”
Reassurance was all that Lock could offer. It was clear that Charlie had taken at least one beating. All they could hope was that, between now and his release, he didn’t catch another. The best way of achieving that was by being compliant.
Charlie reached up with one hand and rubbed his face. “My head hurts.”
“Just hang in there for me, buddy,” said Lock, before the screen went blank.
Li tapped at the laptop keyboard. “They’re gone,” he told them.
Chow Yan started to speak, but he was interrupted by the chirp of Lock’s cell phone. Lock answered.
“You satisfied?” said Orzana.
“What happened to Charlie?” said Lock.
“Kid has a big mouth. Not a good quality to have if you can’t back it up,” said Orzana. “Don’t worry, he’ll be okay.”
“And you know that how?” said Lock. Charlie’s comment about his head hurting was worrying. He’d looked concussed. Head injuries were always a cause for concern. Left untreated they could prove fatal.
“Listen, do you want them back or not?” said Orzana.
“We do,” said Lock.
“Then let’s stop screwing about.”
He gave Lock the new figure. Four and a half million dollars for Emily’s release and the same for Cha
rlie.
“Two million each. Four total,” Lock countered.
“Five,” said Orzana.
“Hang on,” said Lock.
He hit the mute button on his phone and ran the amount past Chow Yan and Li Yeng.
Chow Yan nodded dumbly. Lock had the sense he could have given him any figure and he would have nodded. Seeing Emily and then Charlie had left him in a state of shock
Li Yeng seemed a little more composed. “That should be fine,” he said.
Lock unmuted the call. “Fine. Five. But you take your finder’s fee out of that.”
“I’ll need to get final approval. I’ll call you back,” said Orzana.
Chow Yan sat on the couch, and obsessively reviewed the video footage of his call with Emily. Tears streamed down his face. Li Yeng stood by the window, seemingly embarrassed by his boss’s show of emotion.
It had been ten minutes since Lock’s call with Orzana. He was on edge, but not overly so. Most deals involving five million dollars took longer than ten minutes to sign off.
It was a decent score for the kidnappers. Not major-drug-shipment big, but large enough to merit proper attention from the higher echelons of MS-13, and certainly enough to warrant all the hassle and corpses. Orzana had made a big play of compensating the four dead men’s families, but Lock doubted they’d see more than a hundred thousand each, if that. Loyalty was how the gang sold itself to new recruits, but the reality was often very different, especially when it came to sharing the spoils.
Lock walked over and sank onto the couch next to his client. “It’ll be okay,” he said. “The worst part is over. They’ll take the deal, then Ty and I will go collect them.”
Chow Yan pulled a silk handkerchief from the top pocket of his suit and dabbed at his eyes. He smiled apologetically at Lock. “I’ll come with you,” he said.
A warning klaxon went off in the back of Lock’s head. Family was usually kept well away from hostage exchanges. The last thing anyone needed when they went down was an emotional family member. In almost every case Lock had worked, loved ones were kept at a safe location and reunited with the kidnap victim there. Sometimes medical checks of the victim took place first.