by E Y Mak
“I wish I had something that could help me adjust to the jet lag,” said Russell.
“Did Rosa offer you coffee?” asked Mauritius.
“Yes, but I’m fine, thanks,” said Russell.
Mauritius led Russell into a corner meeting room. Just like the last room, the windows stretched the full height of the wall, this time unfolding into another spectacular view of the Hong Kong skyline. Russell pondered the rent on this office space as Mauritius motioned for him to sit down at a conference table.
“I invited you here today because I am considering engaging Hocking to help with the financing of my new project,” Mauritius said as he sat down across the table from Russell.
“Great,” Russell said. “I’ve brought along a draft standard engagement letter. We can customize it and price out the deal once I know more about what you’re trying to do.”
“Of course,” Mauritius said as he leaned back.
“So, what can you tell me right now?” asked Russell. Russell knew full well there was no way that Mauritius was going to provide any useful information to him voluntarily. Mauritius also knew that Russell was not actually a banker. Why was Mauritius playing him along? It was a battle of who would break character first.
“Elva will be here shortly with additional details on the project,” said Mauritius. “I collated the standard operations contracts—building and supply contracts, utilities, the like. But before I can release any of this to you, I’ll need you to sign a confidentiality agreement. It’ll be here shortly. As I said yesterday, I’m also happy to give you a tour of our African headquarters. I’m heading over tomorrow in my private jet. Will you accompany me?”
“Which country is it? I’ll need to get a visa.”
“Cameroon. I have excellent business connections there. Normally, it takes seven business days, but I can get it expedited for immediate approval. Do you have any issues that I should be aware of?”
Bingo. Cameroon.
“Nothing that should be a problem,” Russell said underneath a false smile. What did Mauritius’s admission mean? Or was it simply hubris—catch me if you can?
The door to the meeting room opened, and Elva walked in holding a banker’s box bursting with file folders. “Mr. Woo, here’s the diligence info you requested. Do you have your laptop here today?” she asked as she pulled a USB key out of her pocket and handed it to him.
Russell had purposely left his laptop back in the hotel room safe. He did not want to risk having the laptop compromised, especially by a man with Mauritius’s technical prowess. He tried to downplay the lack of a computer. “We are focusing primarily today on settling the term sheet. I can review the documents on my laptop later this evening.”
Russell observed Elva glancing at Mauritius quickly. Mauritius said, “Russell, I can’t let you leave with the USB stick today. Confidentiality reasons, obviously.”
“Okay. Well, I can take a look at what I can today, and I’ll bring along a research analyst tomorrow for a further look,” Russell said.
Mauritius nodded. “Fine. I will leave you two to hash out the engagement and confidentiality agreements together.” Before standing up to leave the room, Mauritius said, “Let me know if you need anything further.”
Russell spent the next twenty minutes sifting through the documents in the banker’s box. There was a heavily redacted leasing agreement for an office building in South Africa, some technology licensing agreements with several computer manufacturers, and an employment agreement with a general manager in Cameroon. There was a purchase invoice for a thousand computers. All of the contracts either listed Fuengirola’s Hong Kong address or redacted the head office addresses.
As he skimmed another fuel and supply contract, Russell’s phone rang. Benita with a scheduled phone call. He looked at Elva and asked, “Is there a place that I can take this call privately?”
Elva motioned to Russell to take the call in the next room. He thanked her, picked up a random stack of papers, and walked over to the next room. He answered the call and activated the scrambler on his phone.
“Russell Woo speaking,” he said.
“Hey, Russell,” Benita said. “What’d you find out so far?”
“They’re definitely in Cameroon. It looks like they are setting up some technology farm there. Tonnes of supply and trucking contracts. Masses of computer purchases. Electrical contracts. Security and fuel. Seems pretty remote.”
“Okay, Russell,” she said. “I’m standing by downstairs.”
Russell hung up the phone and quietly walked out the door, but turned down the hallway back to reception instead of returning to the meeting room. He walked into the restroom and flushed a handful of paper towels before heading straight to the receptionist area, the phone still in hand. He ended up approaching the receptionist's chair from behind the frosted window and spotted her security card still lying on the table behind her chair.
“Excuse me?” he said to the receptionist.
She swiveled around in her chair. “Mr. Woo. How can I help you?”
“There’s a bit of a problem with the male restroom. Someone left a bit of a mess. Can you tell me where the next nearest one is?” he asked.
“Certainly. Just let me check.”
As she turned back to the computer, Russell hovered his phone three inches from her security card.
“There’s one publicly accessible washroom two floors down,” she said, eyes never turning away from the computer.
“Oh, that’s alright then. I can wait until later. Thank you, miss,” said Russell with a smile.
He turned around and began walking towards the meeting room. He noticed Elva still in the meeting room, reviewing the draft engagement letter he had left with her. He walked past her to the secured door and brought his phone up to the keycard reader. A short chime went off, indicating that his phone had successfully skimmed the receptionist’s keycard. He opened the door very slightly, peeking in to see who was there.
No one.
He opened the door a bit farther and slipped in.
He was now in a long hallway that appeared to connect in a ring around the entire floor. There were about a half-dozen doors on the left and a row of windows overlooking the city on the right. He could hear voices coming from the doors at the far end of the hall.
He walked down and peeked inside the first door. It was an empty office. He continued quietly down the hall. As he walked down the passage, he checked two more doors, both locked. The fourth door was marked Elva Zhao.
He slipped in.
Her office was bright and airy, with another sizeable floor-to-ceiling window. There was a desk, chair, computer and filing cabinet. He sidled into the room quietly. The office was minimalist with almost no clutter. No files were lying about, no personal effects, not even a loose pen lying on the table. He had noticed that Elva was quite anal retentive; her office reflected this compulsiveness.
He moved to her desk and jiggled the mouse. He had hoped to reach her office before her computer logged her out. No luck. He didn’t have time to determine her password right now.
He walked over to the filing cabinet. He opened the top drawer. It appeared to be primarily personal files that Russell had no interest in. The profile that Benita had prepared on Elva did not suggest much of a life outside of work, so she likely kept most of her personal life at the office as well.
He moved to the lower drawer. The files were organized alphabetically according to the location of the project. Fuengirola had investments all over the world.
Alberta, Canada.
Arkansas, US.
Bogota, Colombia.
Russell skipped down to the “C” section. It consisted of only two files, one for California, US, and the other for Canton, China. No Cameroon. He needed to be more specific.
What about Ndian?
He flipped to the “N” tab and pulled out the only folder in the drawer. There was only one document inside, a ten-pager simply marked “Project
Milverton—Confidential” on the front page. He fanned through the entire document. The first thing he saw was a map illustrating the physical features of the area surrounding the Ndian project in Cameroon. He saw the towns of Limbe, Tiko, Kumba, and Mamfe. The very tip of Mount Cameroon was in the southwest corner, and a bold red dot indicating the Ndian project was near the center point of the map. He had seen this map before, in the technical report filed by the company online as part of their public company disclosure obligations. He remembered that the area was surrounded by hundreds of kilometers of jungle.
But there was something Russell didn’t recognize on the map. It was a large hexagonal item simply labeled “Repository.”
He thought about what it could represent. In mining terms, a repository is a location in which a natural resource has accumulated or where it is found in significant quantities. More generally, it is a place, building, or receptacle where things are or may be stored.
So, what is being stored there? Is that the technology farm?
Russell’s attention was suddenly diverted by the chatter coming from the end office in the hallway. It was louder this time.
Time to go.
Russell shoved the Ndian folder into the stack of papers he was already carrying, closed the drawer, and walked back to the door. The coast was clear, so he started for the door. At the end of the hallway, the chatter was continuing in the room without any of the cues of a waning conversation. All that was left directly in front of him before the turn of the corridor was a small nook, the door with the chattering occupants, and a fire escape.
Suddenly, down the blind turn in front of him, he heard a door open and then close. Russell froze as footsteps approached. Realizing that there was no chance he would make it to the fire escape, he quickened his pace and slid into the nook before softly backing up against a door hanging on the far side of the nook.
The footsteps continued and passed and Russell looked to his right. Elva had paused midway in the opening, her eyes fixated on the sheet of paper in her hand. She was less than five feet away from a very vulnerable Russell.
Russell held his breath. If she turned her face just a bit to the left, he would be exposed.
Instead, Elva walked forward, her eyes still never leaving the sheet of paper in her hands. Russell let out a quiet gasp after she was out of earshot. He then retraced his steps back to the secured door and reentered the main public area of Fuengirola Holdings before he was back to the meeting room with the diligence files.
As he reentered the room, he went back to sifting through files. About five minutes later, Elva walked in and asked him if his phone call had gone okay. Russell nodded and said “Yeah. Just a question on the protocol from the office.” He began walking around the meeting table back towards his original chair next to his briefcase. He casually threw the stack of papers he was holding into his briefcase. He closed the lid and heard the click of the locking mechanism. Before he managed to sit down, however, the meeting door opened again, and a familiar face entered the room.
Two, actually.
The new face entered the room with his gaze already locked on Russell. One of his eyes was bruised, which served to only accentuate his “don’t mess with me” vibe.
Mauritius said, “Russell. You remember Dominique from last night, right?”
Chapter Thirty-Two
The hulking brawler stood at the doorway with Mauritius, wearing a dark T-shirt and a menacing scowl. Russell broke the tension that permeated the room. “Dominique. I watched your fight against the Frenchman yesterday. It was quite a spectacle.”
Russell stood up and reached out his hand. Dominique stared straight at him without extending his own.
“Russell, Dominique is not here to make your acquaintance. He’s here to escort you to the plane.”
Russell raised an eyebrow in mock confusion. “I thought the plane was leaving tomorrow?”
“The plane is leaving tomorrow. However, Mr. Woo of Phineas, you have some information that I need,” Mauritius said. “I cannot risk you leaving this office today.”
Russell knew it was only a matter of time before they removed their masks.
“Okay,” he said. “If we are going to abandon all pretense, why don’t you save me some time and just tell me more about what’s really going on in Cameroon?”
“Russell, you overestimate your leverage in these discussions,” Mauritius said as he turned to Dominique. “Search him,” he instructed.
Dominique stepped forward. Russell knew that he was no match for the mixed martial artist. Dominique stripped him of his phone and wallet before sliding his hands up and down Russell’s body. Finding nothing further, Dominique gave a quick nod to Mauritius.
The search completed, Mauritius continued speaking. “We know that you are here without Phineas authorization. That means no Phineas agents are backing you up. Very brave of you, Russell, to walk in here without any support.”
Russell dryly responded. “No one was interested in this one.”
Mauritius laughed. “You are bold, Russell. =But we know all about you. We have eyes and ears everywhere too. There is something I need you to help me with though. I’m going to need you to help me access PhineasNet.”
“Not going to happen,” said Russell. “More importantly, you overestimate my technological abilities. You wish I knew how.”
“I don’t need you to know anything. I just need your laptop. I’ll retrieve it tonight from your hotel room at the Mandarin. I can figure out the rest,” Mauritius responded. He motioned with his hand to Dominique.
Dominique stepped forward to push him out of the meeting room. Russell stopped him. “I can walk myself, thank you.”
The trio strode out of the meeting room. They continued through the secured door that Russell had spotted while waiting in the sitting area earlier. The door led to another long hallway lined on one side with a string of doors and the other a gallery of windows. At the end of the corridor was a single door. Dominique walked up to the door and swiped his keycard. Mauritius motioned for Russell to enter.
Russell looked inside. It was room, small, austere, and, oddly, decorated as a hotel room. There was a small bed set against one wall. Dominique stepped up behind Russell. Instinctively Russell stepped into the room.
“Make yourself comfortable. We’ll need you rested up for tomorrow’s trip.”
Before Russell could say anything, Mauritius slammed the door shut. Russell heard two clicks, followed by the sound of footsteps walking down the marble hallway.
Russell dug into his pockets and fished out an American quarter.
Chapter Thirty-Three
At 8:22 that evening, Mauritius and Dominique escorted Russell out of Fuengirola. They walked in a train—Mauritius first, Russell second, Dominique third. Russell noticed that the burly fighter was now carrying Russell’s briefcase. None of the three men spoke as they went down the fifty-odd floors together in the elevator. Even at this time in the early evening, the lobby was busy and abuzz with people. The trio exited on the second floor of the lobby. Again, Mauritius walked ahead to a car waiting in the roundabout.
“I’m going to need to use the washroom first,” Russell said as he turned to Mauritius. Dominique hesitated, but Mauritius nodded.
“I don’t want him making a mess on my plane,” Mauritius said.
Russell entered the washroom, hoping that no one was inside. There was not. He walked to the first stall and began to close the door when Dominique stepped in and blocked the motion with his massive right hand.
Sneaky quiet bastard.
“Hey, give a man some privacy,” Russell said.
“You can still go with the door open.”
Russell thought for a second. He needed Dominique to get out of the bathroom so he could retrieve his Glock. While he was still thinking, a crowd of boisterous businessmen entered the washroom, coming back to work after what sounded like a particularly expensive happy hour. They were exuberantly laughing at on
e another and proceeded to line the urinal stalls.
Russell seized the moment and said, “Thanks, Dominique. Why don’t I meet you outside, I just have to finish up here.” He smiled as he slammed the door in Dominique’s scowling face. Russell then ducked down and watched Dominique’s feet stay a brief second before moving towards the exit.
After he heard the door close, Russell grabbed the lid of the toilet and lifted it off. He stared into the water tank.
The Glock was gone.
Good. He smiled.
Chapter Thirty-Four
After washing his hands, Russell exited the washroom and immediately saw Mauritius and Benita huddled up together, with Dominique standing about six feet away from the pairs. She was still dressed in the jeans and leather motorcycle jacket she had worn earlier in the day, and he could see the Glock discretely hidden behind Russell’s briefcase. It was pointed in an upward angle straight at Mauritius’s center mass.
“Hey, Russell,” she said with a smile. “Mauritius and I were just talking but we’re done. We agreed that you and I are going to leave now.”
Mauritius’s eyes were closed into slits and his nostrils were flared. “Leave him be,” he said to Dominique.
Russell looked at Dominique. His face had turned a bright beet red and he stammered as he spoke. “Alright . . . boss.”
Russell walked up to Dominique and calmly grabbed his briefcase from the brawler’s hands. As he slowly walked away, he turned back and said, “Pleasure doing business with you, Mauritius. Until we meet again.”
Benita and Russell picked up the pace as they rushed out the front door. Benita had parked her Mercedes in the VIP waiting area and had it pointed towards the exit ramp. She hit the remote unlock on the Mercedes key fob as they rushed towards the vehicle and jumped in. “Thanks for the help,” Russell said as he turned around to see if Mauritius and Dominique were behind them. They were not. “Did you hear all of my ramblings to you from Mauritius’s little dungeon?” he asked, flipping the quarter with his right thumb.