Tsang knew not to argue; when it came to European crime syndicates few people had better knowledge than Cade and Cade found himself wishing he was still attached to his old team, which would at least give him a fighting chance – and importantly with the weight of the law being on his side. However, despite the immense skill that he knew he possessed Tsang couldn’t help but be worried about where Operation Wave as he called it might lead.
Tsang’s phone rang again.
“Yes, I understand, thank you, good work.”
He looked at Cade and smiled, “We have a small breakthrough; it transpires that your girl is actually called Elana Dimitrova, a small but possibly important difference. It could equally be what you call a typo. Her death was reported in the New Zealand papers whilst you were in the air.” He continued, trying to be matter of fact without appearing callous, “Bulgarian tourist killed in single vehicle crash, police appeal for witnesses et cetera, et cetera. I’m so very sorry Jack.”
Cade resisted the urge to break down in front of a colleague – it was one of those jobs that often frowned upon such human reaction, instead he offered a simple nod of the head and said, “Thank you, at least I know now.”
“If there is some brighter news, then I can also confirm that we think we have located the passenger. My electronics team have been running a data miner over TOR for hours; for a while we found nothing then quite literally out of the blue, well, to be accurate, hazel, we traced him.”
“I’m not with you, how can you link an open source search to him?”
“Technically…it wasn’t open source Jack, but as you English say, needs must. In your very early recall of the events in New Zealand you talked about how Elena had mentioned a man with two different coloured eyes?”
“I did…”
“Yes, you did indeed. I never knew, but the condition is called complete heterochromia, it isn’t extremely rare, about ten or so in a thousand and even some famous people have it. Sometimes it’s hereditary or caused by disease…”
“And…” Cade was becoming a little impatient.
“And in the case of your passenger it turns out that an old girlfriend of his posted a picture of him on Facebook. Simple! Where would we be without social media Jack?”
“You are kidding? An international assassin with his imagery on Facebook, it’s unbelievable Andy. Show me.”
“Ah, well that is the thing, it was deleted but we have the text that went with the image. We knew we could possibly obtain the original by executing a warrant in the United States but we would have to provide Facebook with some compelling evidence that we weren’t just…on a fishing expedition.”
Cade understood and besides the fewer footprints the better.
“Any moment now I should receive the data from our lab. Have some more tea.”
Cade motioned to his bladder signifying that it was fit to burst, “Perhaps later, thank you.”
A small electronic announcement indicated that the data had arrived – it was a noise quite familiar to Cade as it had been occurring on average every minute, an indication of just how busy Tsang was. It was also a gentle reminder that Cade needed to allow him to return to normal.
“Can you send it to me? I can see how busy you are.”
“Jack, I am extremely important these days. This will be written off as international partnership building with the Five Eyes – and you know how important that is to my leaders!” He grinned, paused and then turned the large computer screen around so that Cade could clearly see the text.
I long to see my beautiful man, to hold you and kiss those lips, to touch your strong body and to look into your special eyes. It is like looking at two men at once. Much love Stefan. Maria xx
“OK, it’s a start, but now all I have to do is trace a female with the most common first name in Romania and a male with…”
“Yes, yes, I know, a male with a common name…but Cade you forget you are dealing with the Hong Kong Police Department now, not some group of Kermits!”
The error made Cade laugh, in fact he laughed out loud. It was a much-needed pressure valve.
“It’s muppets, but you made me smile, please, go on.”
“Of course, a brightly coloured talking frog isn’t everyone’s idea of an international thief taker…”
He paused and looked at Cade. They both said exactly the same thing in an exaggerated French accent before collapsing into fits of laughter, “Unless you mean Francois Les Incompétent!”
Chef d’Escadron Le Compte was a senior man at Interpol back in the day – as incompetent as he was good looking, he made a habit of infuriating everyone he worked with and yet had one of the highest capture rates in the organisation. He was, it was once said, a capable Clouseau and his trademark fluorescent green ties soon gave rise to the Kermit moniker.
“If you get stuck Jack, give him a call, you never know he might have forgiven you by now!”
“I shall, Jesus that was funny, so funny I forgot to get an answer to my question. How do you know who Stefan is?”
“Relax. It is easy. Maria is Maria Antonescu, twenty-six years old, petite with bleach-blonde hair and according to most of these historic images she spent most of her time in a bikini. As you can see she is very pretty, in this picture she is posing, perhaps a little too closely with her best friend Ana Dumitru, also in her early twenties and equally beautiful.”
“They are and I suppose our friend Stefan had the pleasure of both of them?”
“One can presume so Jack.”
“Presume, surely the Hong Kong Police are more confident than mere conjecture?”
“Indeed, as you know we work on fact; black and white, never grey and as we both know knowledge is power. In Stefan’s case it meant taking the power away from the lovely Maria and in turn her friend.”
Cade responded with a puzzled look.
“Both dead Jack. Found at an out-of-town rubbish dump near Craiova, naked with their throats cut and their eyes were surgically removed and left hanging on their cheekbones, hardly very romantic.”
“And indicator that they had seen too much?”
“Possibly.”
“Go on.”
“We couldn’t locate Maria’s original Facebook homepage but rather fortuitously the bereft family of Miss Dumitru kept her page alive as a tribute. Within six links to that page was an old photograph of this man…”
Tsang pointed to a muscular blond-haired male who was sat between the two girls. “Clearly his parents lacked imagination. His name is Stefan Stefanescu, and our good friend Stefan just made his first schoolboy mistake. He arrived in England a few weeks ago via Dover, local Border Agency staff had a good look at him but he was clean.”
“And?”
“And his blue Audi A6 passed through the City of London automatic number plate recognition system an hour later. You were right. He’s in London Jack.”
The frigid, complex and impassive eyes stared back at him. Cade took a while to absorb the newfound information, leant forward slightly and mumbled something under his breath. It was an opening, a small start but a start nonetheless.
“Come on, it’s been a long day, we need to eat again, an army marching on its stomach and all that, let us return to your hotel and run up an even larger bill!”
He nodded and smiled an exhausted smile. It was the least Cade could do.
En route they covered off the successes to date and formulated an action plan for the next phase.
Tsang quoted a few stats from a report he had been reading before Cade had arrived.
“I have taken the liberty of printing off a copy for you. It’s the latest UK Serious and Organised Crime Strategy, it will keep you company as you fly over Russia en route to your motherland. As you will see, the Brits have a few concerns; terrorism, drugs, people trafficking, firearms, cyber and acquisitive crime. It’s all gone to hell in a handcart since you left Old Boy!”
“Tell me about it.”
Tsang continued, mi
ssing the irony.
“The UK forces believe there are somewhere in the region of five and a half thousand organised criminal groups operating on their mainland and many more offshore. The combined impact of fraud and acquisitive crime is considered to be upwards of ten billion. That’s a lot in any currency Jack. And it means that you alone will never be able to resolve it.”
Cade replied, “Do you honestly think I plan to single-handedly swing into London, take out the leaders of these groups with a double-tap to the head, make love to countless beautiful women and be home in time for tea and medals?”
“No of course, but I suspect that is your wish.”
It was, but life on the law enforcement side of the fence had taught him that you could not win every battle. You started with small victories: talking to people, building up your HUMINT, talking to people, gathering information, turning it into intelligence then slowly, deliberately you either disrupted or destroyed the networks. In some cases this meant cutting off the Hydra’s head, all the while unaware of another newer and more insidious one emerging quietly behind you.
“The report suggests that over half of the crime issues stem from the drug trade but I suspect that your Seventh Wave is somehow wiser than this. After all, why dip your toe in the same pool as everyone else when there are bigger fish to fry?”
Despite the mixed metaphor Cade knew what Tsang meant. If half of the world’s criminal organisations were profiting from drugs, then surely there must be another avenue to exploit.
“The passports?”
“Sorry Jack, what do you mean?”
“Sorry, I was thinking out loud, perhaps the passports are a link to this? Could they provide some level of credibility, perhaps? A way of showing prospective investors that they can be trusted? Is it blackmail? Or are they just stolen like everything else?” It was clear that Cade was tired. A good night’s sleep might offer some clarity.
“I don’t know my friend but what I do know is that your old colleagues are trying to deal with it all head-on. It’s all about disruption Jack – in the first place at least. Then gathering intelligence and finally striking the key targets. It’s all part of what they refer to as CONTEST: a system of targeting those at the bottom and top of the food chain, in the hope that the middle order will collapse. They used it initially for counter-terrorism, now other areas too. Their aim is to pursue, prevent, protect and prepare.”
Tsang’s almost photographic memory was impressive, Cade found himself wishing he would accompany him to Europe. So much so that he asked him.
“Andy, come with me to Europe. I can pay you any expenses.”
“Jack, this is becoming too personal. I am worried about you. I alone cannot help you but you have my word my team and I will be just a quick phone call away should you run into a brick wall. I understand that your ‘Operation Wave’ is actually already underway; in the UK it is called NEXUS.”
Cade’s face took on a puzzled look, he had only been out of the game for a relatively short time but it was a game which changed, as fluid as the enemy it pursued, and those that failed to keep up were swept away like autumn leaves in a wintry gutter.
Tsang carried on, “I have put together some files on the current ops in Britain; I think you need to combine these with what you already have and see if you can get one step ahead, at worst at least you will be on that level playing field that you Brits are always referring to.”
“Thank you.”
“My pleasure, now, when you arrive back in London I know you will be meeting up with some old friends and I have no doubt that Mr Daniel will have organised some of this, but I must ask that you look up someone else from your past too, he can help you more than you realise.”
“Who?”
“This man,” Tsang handed his cell phone over to Cade who struggled to recognise the image at first.
“No? It can’t be, is it?”
“It is Jack, your friend and mine, Jason ‘Ginger’ Roberts or as he’s called these days Detective Chief Inspector Roberts. I have already made contact, he’s looking forward to seeing you again and I quote, ‘a cup of Rosie and a game of arrows’, whatever that might be.”
“Good God, Ginger Roberts a DCI, who’d have thought it? Last I heard he was a detective sergeant at the Yard with a career goal of never going any higher.”
“Well, it turns out that he has and his team have exactly what you need. Maybe time to cash in a few favours?”
They arrived back at the Mandarin, entered the restaurant, ordered their meal and an accompanying glass of mascara de fuego, a newly imported Chilean Cabernet Sauvignon. Both men admired how the rich red liquid clung to their glasses before chinking them vigorously together and dining in relative quiet.
When they had finished Cade wiped his lips, placed down his napkin and raised his newly acquired glass of Macallan from the Fine & Rare collection. The bottle Cade had selected was from 1974. He examined it and decided after a moment that it had matured somewhat better than he had during his own forty years.
“To the next Commissioner of the Royal Hong Kong Police. May he always be successful, a great friend and occasionally sober!”
Tsang replied, “To a man I admire enormously, one who epitomises everything that is great about British law enforcement. Sadly, he cannot be here tonight!”
“Touché, my friend, touché, your comedic timing is as exquisite as ever.”
An hour later they stood in the lobby, hands firmly gripped in a strong handshake they promised to remain closely in touch, with Cade agreeing to update his old friend and colleague as often as he was able. With the goodbyes finalised Tsang turned around and walked swiftly to his awaiting car.
As he reached the door, he stopped and turned around, he bowed gently, “Good luck Jack, watch your back and remember who your friends are.”
Cade returned the bow and walked away.
He later left his room and entered the nearby lift. As it carried him down to the lobby, he removed a small magnet from his carry-on bag and ran it over his electronic hotel door key. It was on old habit designed to eradicate his personal data from the card, the result of spending years hunting financially motivated criminals.
He paid his bill without questioning any of the numerous transactions, collected a small parcel from the receptionist and approached the concierge.
“Would you do me a great favour?” He motioned to the bottle of 1974 Macallan. “Ensure the rest of this gets delivered to this address with this note?”
The concierge assured him he would carry out the duty himself, recognising immediately the recipient’s details, he knew how important he was to the hotel and besides having friends in high places was more advantageous in Hong Kong than an annual pass on the Star Ferry.
Cade shook his hand and walked to his taxi.
The note was brief and to the point.
Sir, keep this until the next time we meet. JC.
Within three quarters of an hour he was outside the international terminal. As he exited the car and paid his bill he noted storm clouds on the horizon; a dark, almost sinister bank of anthracite and green heralded the first few large spots of tropical rain which started to hit the concrete walkway as Cade turned his back on Hong Kong and entered Terminal 1.
He arrived briskly at the Cathay Pacific business class desk and checked in for flight CX239 for London Heathrow. With his luggage labelled and already en route to the baggage make up area airside, he took his boarding pass and placed it together with his maroon-coloured passport.
“Thank you Mr Cade, Gate 67, your flight is on time and leaves at 14:35. Thank you for flying Cathay Pacific. Have a safe journey.”
Chapter Twelve
The Boeing 777-300ER eased off the ground, climbed steadily over Guangzhou before continuing a north-west journey towards Mongolia and the great Gobi Desert.
It would soon reach its operational height and become as fuel efficient as a jet weighting nearly three hundred thousand kilos could. Its G
eneral Electric GE90 engines had the airliner cruising at over five hundred knots, and before too long it would clear mainland China and begin the remainder of its twelve-hour journey to Europe.
Cade settled into his more than comfortable seat, accepted a drink and chose his in-flight meal. Whilst the other passengers, both economy and business, also selected their in-flight entertainment he opened up the package that Tsang had handed to him and started to digest its contents.
Tsang had lost none of his incredible ability – he always had a tremendous eye for detail and as a briefing officer Cade always thought him only second to himself.
The briefing package had a yellow Post-It note attached to the front; the note was lined up perfectly with the edge of the A4 paperwork.
Jack, as discussed here are some notes, my team has made me proud. I told them this work was immensely valuable and for a friend of HKP. I suggest you read it once en route to London and then once again when you first wake up. It was great to catch up after all these years – it seems impossible to think it was so many years ago. Stay in touch, keep safe and let me know what you need. AT.
He turned the first page and began to read. It was a deep read, not one of those lightly skimmed, can’t-be-arsed affairs. The data that the report contained could save his life, and therefore it took on a new dimension.
Whilst he held no respect for the members of the Seventh Wave, he did respect their skills and abilities.
The report commenced:
Jack, as we discussed, since October 2012, the Metropolitan Police and British Immigration have been running a joint operation known as Nexus: the aim of Nexus has been the sharing of tactical, operational and strategic intelligence to identify foreign national offenders at the point of arrest.
Seventh (The Seventh Wave Trilogy Book 1) Page 20