Sotello gave Ellen the dead eyed mook look he had perfected over the years of parenthood. Ellen ended up laughing first, as she could never return his stare for long. “If I want to be interrogated by a cheap, Rocky Raccoon wannabe, I’ll let you know.”
Both of Ellen’s hands flew up to her face, as her brother laughed. “The… swellings all… my eyes…” Ellen stopped her stammering denial, as Sotello joined her brother in laughter. The ease in which she had been provoked dawned on her a split second later. She went for her Father’s throat, as a growl issued from hers. Sotello covered up and Craig grabbed her.
“Easy there Rocky,” Craig laughed, holding on to his struggling sister. “You had that coming.”
Ellen gave up, and sat down, pointing a warning finger at Sotello. “Of course you know, this means war.”
“I cannot enter a battle with someone so pathetic looking,” Sotello said, shielding his eyes as if in horror. “Those blue-black eyes… those swollen cheeks… horrible… just horrible. You poor dear.”
“Okay Dad,” Ellen warned. “Paybacks coming, and it will be bad.”
“If we can change the subject from you, finally,” Sotello grinned. “Can we get back to work on our preparations? Did you contact the limo service, and give them an itinerary for going to the airport?”
“Of course Scarface,” Craig quipped. “They will be here at five to pick us up, and they will have their airport papers in order, so you don’t have to float in a holding pattern while I gather up our client. I also made dinner reservations in case they don’t have a preference. I will get a Sky Cap on my way in for the luggage, and give him a generous bribe to stick with me. I will engage our client in intelligent conversation, while escorting her through whatever the Dogs of War have made necessary, for arriving from overseas.”
“It sounds like you know your part pretty well. You didn’t tell the limo company anymore of our plans than the airport, did you?” Sotello asked.
“With you along?” Craig answered sarcastically. “I wouldn’t do that unless we had a tank, and an armed escort. With the way things have been going for you lately, we might as well blow ourselves up, and save the hassle.”
“Very funny,” Sotello sighed. “The young woman will be staying at the Mark Hopkins as we already discussed. Her name is May Yi Lin. Her Father’s computer company uses the name Taipei Computer Imports LTD. Let’s go look at what you’ve put together for us El.”
“If you’re done restating the facts already in evidence,” Ellen replied sweetly, “I will be happy to.”
Chapter 34
Terror Once Again
After getting a call from Craig to enter the arrival area, Sotello directed the driver from where they had been waiting. Sotello sat next to the middle-aged limo driver. Having used him in the past, Sotello had no qualms about his experience. He kept to himself, did as he was directed quickly, and with skill.
The driver spotted Craig, escorting a beautiful Chinese woman of average height, dressed exquisitely. She was laughing at a running dialogue, Craig accompanied with hand gestures, and head bobs. The Sky Cap loaded her bags into the trunk the limo driver had popped open on the way to the curb. Craig opened the passenger compartment, and helped his charge in. Sotello smiled at the skill in which Craig handled himself, and the ease of movements, as if he anticipated each, and every action well in advance. Craig came to the front, after seating their client. Sotello opened the window.
“Dad, she wants to talk to you,” Craig said, shrugging his shoulders.
“Did you explain to her you were in charge of the escort part of this?” Sotello asked in some confusion.
“I did everything short of telling her if she didn’t like the way we did things, she could take a walk,” Craig said earnestly. “She says it is imperative she talk with you.”
Sotello nodded, and turned to the driver. “Take us to the Mark Hopkins Danny. I’ll ride in the back until we get there.”
“Sure, Jim,” the man named Danny replied easily.
Sotello eased into the rear of the limousine after his son. He was wearing a trench coat, and a hat, to keep his operation uninterrupted by anyone who might recognize him. He smiled at the woman sitting next to Craig, across the spacious interior, and greeted her in Chinese as he removed his hat.
She looked at him with some interest for a moment, before answering in English. “Please Mr. Sotello, I would prefer to speak English. My meetings on this trip will all be done in English, and I need to practice.”
“Very well,” Sotello said in English. “My associate said you wished to speak to me.”
“We have heard of your travails here over the last few weeks Mr. Sotello,” she began. “My Father has many ties over here, and would like to make a sizeable donation to your campaign fund. We have greatly enjoyed your speeches, although your immigration stand would give some of our contacts trouble in recruiting labor.”
“Our country expressly forbids campaign funds from foreign nationals, Ms. Lin,” Sotello stated. “My agency has nothing to do with my campaign for Governor.”
“Please call me May,” Lin said quickly. “Do not be offended Mr. Sotello. The actual donation would be coming from a source, or sources, within the United States.”
“Please call me Jim, May. The proposition, you describe, bears another label here: money laundering. I want to win the Governorship, but I do not want to win so badly I compromise the laws of my country. Let us not mention this again. You will find my agency to be a topnotch organization in handling your stay here, and smoothing the way for any meetings you have scheduled. Craig will see to your needs, and escort you at all times outside of the hotel. I will also be on hand as backup for any situations, which might arise, concerning your safety in these troubling times we live in. Do you have any questions as to our security procedures?”
She smiled at Craig, and then turned back to Sotello. “Craig has explained everything to me in detail, concerning the arrangements of my stay. I hope you are not upset with my Father’s offer. He likes you very much. He said you remind him of a John Wayne movie.”
Sotello and Craig laughed. “I am relatively sure your Father did not have only that in mind when he asked you to make the offer May. Can we at least agree on that?” Sotello asked gently.
“Of course,” Lin replied quickly. “We are used to a different kind of politics, where the paths of influence lie down a long trail of money.”
Sotello nodded, and glanced at Craig. “Have you seen any John Wayne movies May?”
“Oh yes,” Lin acknowledged. “We have seen them all. I have watched many, with my Father, since I was a little girl. American movies helped me with my English.”
“You will love this then, May,” Sotello said, nodding at Craig.
Craig immediately transformed his facial expression, with chin tucked in slightly, and eyes looking up. He pawed the air slightly to emphasize his speech. “Well, little lady,” he began in perfect mimic of the adventure movie icon. “I’m real proud to have fans so far away,” he drawled on. “Would you do me the honor of going ta dinner with me?”
Sotello watched amusedly, as first shock overcame the young woman’s face, replaced quickly with utter delight. She clapped her hands excitedly. “You are amazing Craig. Please let me videotape you to show my Father. He will not believe it.”
Craig smiled, and shifted to Jet li’s deadpan, dour expression, with slightly open mouth. “I have been assigned to guard you Ms Lin. I will allow no harm to befall you.”
Lin turned in amazement to Sotello, and then back to Craig. She took his hand in both of hers. “You must come back to Taiwan with me Craig. I have never seen anything like what you just did. The way your face took on Jackie Chan’s expression was priceless.”
Craig’s face showed complete disappointment. “May, I was doing…”
May laughed in a light tinkling manner as if small silver chimes were brushing together in a breeze. Sotello laughed with her, in appreciation
of how easily she had zinged Craig. Craig joined in self-consciously a moment later, realizing he had taken the bait like the over confident dork he knew he could be.
“I am sorry, Craig,” May said, stroking his hand. “I could not pass up such an opportunity. Will you forgive me? It truly was a most excellent Jet Li imitation.”
Sotello choked, as he saw Craig’s face begin to form under its master’s command. He pointed at his son quickly. “Don’t you do it Craig. That’s an order.”
Craig hesitated, as he turned to look at his Father. “She can take it Dad.”
“Take what?” May asked with some confusion.
Before Sotello could protest, Craig’s face took on a different persona, as he grasped May’s hand in both of his. He assumed her posture with magical ease, as he laughed with the tinkling laughter in almost exact mimic of May Lin’s. “Will you forgive me? It truly was a most excellent Jet Li imitation.”
May Lin sat in stunned, open mouthed silence, for what seemed an eternity to Sotello. When she spoke, she reverted to her native language; but the exclamation was all American. “Oh my God… oh my God.”
Craig mirrored her in unison, repeating her exclamations in Chinese, accompanied by her stunned look. Sotello saw an edge to his son he had never noticed before. “Number One,” he said softly in Chinese. “I think May has seen enough of your peculiar talent, you toad.”
May Lin did something neither Sotello nor Craig anticipated. She hugged Craig. She laughed lightly, but she held him tightly to her. He returned her embrace, as Sotello leaned back in his seat. May pulled back a bit until she faced Craig directly, only inches away. She kissed him lightly on the mouth. “Thank you,” she said softly. “I have never witnessed such a thing. How is it you can do this?”
Craig smiled, and released her. “I really don’t know, except I practice it all the time for fun, and I’ve been doing it since I was a kid. I am glad you were not offended. My Dad was probably right. I should not have imitated you, but you picked me off so easily, I could not resist.”
“I enjoyed it immensely,” May told him. “You are very talented Craig.”
“Sometimes a little too talented,” Sotello put in.
“You called him Number One,” May said, turning to Sotello. “Is that from a Charlie Chan movie?”
“Yes,” Sotello replied. “I used to watch those old Charlie Chan movies with the kids when they were little. They loved the sarcasm between Charlie and his son.”
“I thought it could have been from the Star Trek series too, where the Captain Picard called his second in command Number One,” May offered.
“No,” Sotello said, shaking his head. “I never cared much for that series, but I do remember the reference. May, I will have to report your offer to my campaign manager, and he will have to let the press, along with the state’s election officials know of it. I know it seems like overkill to you; but ever since the wholesale transfer of our high tech weapons systems to Red China under Clinton, anyone can be smeared by even a hint of impropriety. Add to the mix our current warfare with this worldwide terror network, and you can see how serious such things can become.”
“I did not consider how easily such a thing could become blown out of proportion,” May replied. “You are of course correct in your assumption of my Father’s motives. We wished to be considered with a bit more leniency in your border and port clamp downs. My Father could tell you were very serious.”
“Your Father is very astute,” Sotello replied. “I am indeed very serious. I will not make war on honest commerce, flowing in from outside of our nation, but the import of illegal aliens to work in sweatshops will be ended.”
“I think projecting your idea of a sweatshop on foreign workers may be misguided,” May said, smiling to take away any offence.
“May, I know people all over the world would be rich, making what even our minimum wage American citizens make,” Sotello allowed. “However, when we as a nation, let in anyone, whether they have job skills or not, we not only undercut our own blue collar workers, we create problems for legal immigrants already here. Their assimilation into our society becomes more difficult, precisely because they must compete for low-end jobs, with people flowing into the country illegally, who work illegally for less than minimum wage. Careful legal immigration, combined with school programs, geared to assimilate the new immigrants into American society, would do wonders for our internal war on terrorism. It would also promote our own manufacturing processes.”
“By cutting out foreign competition,” May pointed out.
“The effect could work out that way,” Sotello admitted. “Such would not be my major goal. Look at it from our viewpoint. If, God forbid, we went to war with Red China, and they were producing many of the parts for our weaponry, where exactly would that leave us? Let us say for a moment Red China absorbs your homeland, and you produced most of the hardware and software needed for the computer systems running our government. It would be catastrophic in the advent of a war with the Mainland.”
“My Father would point out it would still be protectionism,” May replied.
“My Father,” Craig broke in, “would call it cultural survival. We are at war May, and the front lines, even after all this time, remain our porous borders. I think you can understand how frustrating it gets. It’s ridiculous after terrorists attack us with our own passenger jets after having arrived and trained here under our own immigration policies, we still do not get an iron grip on our borders.”
May laughed while glancing from Sotello to Craig. “I can tell you have been brought up in the same house. How is it you are black Craig, while your Father is white?”
“Just lucky I guess,” Craig quipped. “Actually Dad fell in love with a beautiful black woman, who became my Mom, and from whom I inherited my good looks.”
“You resemble your Father, Craig,” May told him. “I should not have asked such a question.”
“Why not?” Craig asked. “My Dad and I are Americans. He taught me to deal with skin color like I do with the size of my feet. They ain’t getting any smaller, and I ain’t getting any whiter, so deal with it.”
Sotello laughed, and May joined in. “I cannot believe the things you remember Craig.” Sotello looked at May. “I told him that when he was in the sixth grade.”
“Some of the other black guys in my class were getting on me because I earned straight A’s,” Craig explained. “They told me I was selling out to play the white man’s game. I had never heard anything about the white man’s game, so I went home to ask Dad what the rules were in this white man’s game, since he was white. He laughed like hell at first, and then he explained how popular putting down achievers had become over the years, especially in the black community. He gave it to me straight, and told me the foot size line. My Mom chirped in then and said…”
“Look at your Father,” Sotello cut in, “look how far a scarred up, cement headed, right wing nut cake like him got.”
Craig laughed, nodding his head in agreement. “She told me if Dad could get beyond his physical appearance, I could get past mine.”
May laughed with delight as the two of them told the story. “I will retell this story to my Father. He will enjoy it immensely.”
“We have a saying,” Craig added. “In radio, or commercials, they used to always introduce an old product with the tag line ‘back by popular demand’. Are you familiar with the saying May?”
“Yes,” May answered. “We also have a variation of such a line in our advertising specials.”
“We have a great American black economist, who teaches at George Mason University, and who does talk shows once in a while. His name is Walter Williams and he uses a variation of that line,” Craig explained. “He always would say ‘Black by popular demand’. I use his line whenever I can.”
May nodded with a grin. “Very clever, but do you not like to make reference to your heritage?”
“His Mom and I were orphans,” Sotello replied. �
�When we met in college, it was one of the items we had in common, which drew us together. I grew up in an orphanage. My wife Cynthia was in and out of foster homes all the time she was growing up. We tried to make sure Craig and his sister grew up without preconceived race bias, or a chip on their shoulders.”
“Chip on the shoulder,” May repeated in puzzlement. “What is a ‘chip on the shoulder’?”
“It’s just a bad attitude,” Craig replied, “and a tendency to blame anything you fail at on anything or anyone around you. My folks did not accept excuses for failure.”
“It sounds much like my upbringing,” May said. “My brothers and I were expected to do well. Nothing else was acceptable.”
“I like your Father already,” Sotello said. He looked out of the window, as the limousine pulled up in front of the Mark Hopkins Hotel. “Let Craig run in and smooth out your registration. We have everything set, but every once in a while the best laid plans can hit a snag.”
Craig hurried inside, while Sotello went up to the front to go over the evening’s plans with the driver. Craig came out of the hotel with a baggage handler, and the driver hit the trunk switch. After May’s bags were loaded on the cart, Craig helped May out of the limousine, and gave a little wave to his Father.
“We will be back as soon as I get May settled in,” Craig said.
“Give her some dinner options too Craig,” Sotello reminded him.
“Of course, my good man,” Craig replied smartly, with a pronounced British accent, as May giggled in appreciation.
Sotello sighed, and sat down in the front of the car with the driver.
“I didn’t know your son was such a comedian Jim,” the driver, Danny Lau said.
“Yea, well when it works, he can charm the birds out of the sky,” Sotello replied smiling, “but if he picks the wrong person or the wrong time, he can be deadly.”
“Your client seemed to enjoy him,” Lau remarked.
“So, leaving your intercom line to the back open again, are we?” Sotello said with mock anger.
Sotello: Detective, ex-FBI, ex-Secret Service (DeLeo's Action Thriller Singles Book 1) Page 39