by Alex Siegel
Liam tensed. They weren't real cops at all. He gave Ipo an anxious look.
"Makes sense." Ipo confidently took out his gray phone. "I'll just call my supervisor." He made a call.
Kim raised her hand. "Hold on..."
Ipo was already talking. "This is Detective Onizuka, ma'am. I'm with Kim Ruiz, director of the Family Support Center. She wants to talk to you." He handed her the phone.
Kim accepted the phone. It was about twice as thick as an ordinary phone and sheathed in metal with a rainbow sheen.
She hefted it. "Heavy," she murmured. She put the phone to her ear. "Who is this? Yes, I'm just checking to make sure your detectives are legitimate. It's a standard precaution... Yes. Sorry to bother you. Thanks." She gave the phone back to Ipo.
He put it away. "Satisfied?"
"I suppose." Kim frowned. "I would've preferred to make the call though."
Liam assumed she had actually spoken to Marina, and he was impressed. Ipo had handled the issue in a smooth and convincing manner.
Ipo held out the picture of the runaway teenager. "Kelsie Green. She's been missing for six months, but she was seen in this area recently."
Kim studied the picture. "Why are you looking for her?"
"We believe she has information pertinent to a murder case."
"Oh. I don't recognize her face. Let me check the files."
She stood up and went to a steel file cabinet in the back of her office. A steel bar and a padlock blocked the drawers from opening, and she used a key to unlock them.
"You guys are serious about security," Liam said.
"The people who stay with us are usually trying to escape violent, dangerous situations," Kim said, "and those situations often follow them here. I have to call the police two or three times a week."
She searched through her files.
"Well?" Ipo said.
"I'm not finding her name."
"You don't keep your records on a computer?"
"I don't trust computers." Kim faced him. "Sorry, but I can't find her. I wish I could help you, but I don't think she's been here."
He sighed. "Thanks for looking anyway."
"I'll show you out."
Kim escorted Liam and Ipo out of the building. She watched them until they were outside the gate, and the gate was closed.
After she was gone, Liam said, "She's paranoid."
"I would be in her shoes," Ipo said. "She sees the worst in people every day."
"What's next?"
"We keep going."
* * *
Hanley checked the navigation app on his phone. "I think this is it."
Katie looked around. "Really?"
They were walking along Story Road in central San Jose. The nearby Guadalupe River had allowed a small but dense forest to grow along where the water flowed. Trees, bushes, and grass competed for space on both sides of the road. Even the weeds were taller than Hanley. In this part of California, plant life was normally much sparser because of lack of water, so the sight was strange to him.
"Stay alert. These people don't like cops. Let's go."
He pushed his way through the foliage, and she followed. He felt like an explorer in the African jungle.
After a few minutes, they emerged from the forest and entered a large homeless encampment. Crude tents were made of scraps of wood, bed sheets, cardboard, and plastic. Open fires were burning in garbage cans and steel drums despite the proximity to the forest. Garbage was scattered everywhere. Dogs were running around, and they looked as filthy as the people. Hanley's nose informed him that the sanitary facilities were inadequate.
Most of the homeless people seemed old, but Hanley knew that looks could deceive in this case. Living under these conditions could ruin a person's appearance in a hurry. There were a few kids though, and one pregnant teenager was huddled under a thatch lean-to. He guessed about a hundred souls had made their home here, and he felt sorry for all of them.
Hanley and Katie were still dressed as police officers. Their presence attracted a lot of attention and some openly hostile glares.
An old woman walked up to them. Her face was a sagging, deeply tanned mass of wrinkles. She was wearing a little lamp on her forehead, and the light was on even though it was the middle of the day. Wire ties held back her coarse, graying hair. Her black T-shirt read, "LOVE ME."
"What do you assholes want?" she said. "You're going to harass us again? What did we ever do to you?"
Hanley smiled at her. "We're just looking for some information. Are you in charge here?"
"Sure." She raised her chin. "Everybody calls me Mama Red."
He took out his picture of Kelsie Green. "Have you seen this girl? She's in a lot of trouble. We're trying to save her before it's too late."
"You mean you're trying to arrest her."
"No." He shook his head. "Please, if you have any information, we really need it. It's possible she spent some time here. She ran away from home six months ago."
"Does she have rich parents?" Mama Red said.
"They're doing pretty well, I guess."
She nodded. "That's why you care. Runaways come through here all the time, but the police only care about the rich brats."
"I'm sure that's not entirely true, but it doesn't matter. We're talking about this girl now. Kelsie Green." He raised his voice. "There is a reward for information about her whereabouts. A hundred dollars, cash, but don't try to bullshit us. You'll get paid only if we believe your story."
The offer of money attracted people like a magnet. Hanley was suddenly surrounded by smelly, dirty bodies, and all of them wanted to look at the picture. There was some unfriendly pushing, shoving, and cursing.
Eventually, the chaos settled down and the crowd dispersed, but an old man with a gray beard remained. A blue bandana covered his entire head. His T-shirt had the word "FAITH" printed on a crucifix with angel wings. His pants had big holes in the knees.
"I seen her," the man said. "She was picking pockets in the plaza near the Tech Museum. The kid was slick. I saw her lift three wallets and steal a watch. She was really working the tourists."
"When was this?" Hanley said.
"A couple months ago."
Hanley sighed. This information wasn't useful or verifiable. Kelsie hadn't been arrested since running away from home, so if she was a thief, the authorities didn't know about it. Still, a deal was a deal.
He took out a cash roll and peeled off a hundred dollars. "Here." He gave the money to the old man.
The man smiled, revealing a mouth full of yellowed teeth and gaps. "God bless you!"
"Thanks."
Hanley did indeed feel blessed, and it wasn't just because he was a member of the Gray Spear Society. He had the distinct impression God was watching him in particular. Hanley couldn't explain the sensation, but it was unambiguous. Marina and Ipo sometimes talked about feeling the Lord's presence, and for the first time, Hanley really understood what they had meant. It was a very comforting sensation.
He scratched his itchy palms.
"Let's get back to the car," he told Katie.
She nodded, and they walked off.
* * *
Marina looked up at a sign that read, "Green Dome Recycling and Incineration." She looked at the actual plant and thought, It doesn't look very green to me.
A pair of giant, yellow chimneys was belching gray smoke into the sky. The plant had so many pipes, it looked like an oil refinery to her. Most of the floors were just open steel grids which exposed complex machinery. There were mountains of debris next to the plant, each for a specific type of material. One pile was for broken concrete, another pile was for scrap steel, and a third was for copper. A steady stream of dump trucks was creating new piles of unsorted debris. Men operating bulldozers and cranes were picking apart the messes.
"Quite an operation," Aaron said.
Marina nodded.
She was driving the brown delivery van. The contents of Dr. Shipman's laboratory h
ad been loaded back into the van for disposal.
Marina parked in a lot in front of the plant. She stepped out, and the smell from the incinerator made her catch her breath. It reminded her of burning rubber. Aaron came around the van and joined her.
They were dressed in unobtrusive business attire. Marina had a gray vest, a white shirt, and a skirt which went down to her knees. Aaron had a black and white shirt and black pants.
They entered what appeared to be the front office of the plant. An overweight woman in baggy clothes was sitting behind a cheap desk. The horizontal red stripes on her shirt emphasized her girth.
Marina smiled at her. "We need to speak with Mr. Caldwell. Tell him the 'special' customer is here."
The receptionist made a call, and a couple of minutes later, a man entered the room. He was an African-American with a wide face and a flat nose. A bald head reflected the florescent lights. He was wearing a dressy, white shirt and brown slacks.
He shook Marina's hand. "Are you the woman I spoke to on the phone? Ms. Culter?"
"That's right." She nodded.
Caldwell looked at Aaron. "And you are?"
"Ms. Culter's associate," Aaron replied in his deep voice. "Can we get down to business?"
"Sure," Caldwell said. "Let me take a look at your disposal problem."
The three of them went back outside. They walked over to the brown delivery van, and Marina opened the back door. The cargo area was packed with black garbage bags stuffed to capacity.
Caldwell stared at the bags with an expression of obvious suspicion. According to Marina's agreement with him, he wasn't allowed to ask what was in the bags. She was paying a high premium for his discretion.
"Before we throw this stuff into the incinerator," he said, "I need to know if any of it is toxic. Will I have a hazardous waste problem?"
"I don't believe so, but I'm prepared to cover your cleanup costs in that case."
Caldwell clenched his jaw and continued to stare at the bags.
"Let's get this over with," Marina said. "The longer we stick around, the more likely you'll get all of us into trouble."
"Right. Drive the van into there." He pointed at a vehicle entrance to the plant.
She drove the van into the plant. Aaron stayed with Caldwell, and the two men walked over.
The interior of the incineration plant was full of big, dirty chunks of machinery. Boxes and pipes were attached to a frame made of steel girders. The mess was as large as a football field and four stories high. When Marina got out of the van, she could feel the extra heat, but there were no open flames.
Aaron and Caldwell caught up to her.
Caldwell pointed to a wide, steel contraption on the second level. "That feeds directly into the intake grinder. I'll have some of my men help you carry everything up there."
"No," Marina said. "We'll do it ourselves."
He raised his eyebrows. "You have a ton of garbage. Hauling it up the stairs will be a lot of work."
"We can't let anybody else touch it. Just stay here and make sure nobody gets in our way."
"Sure, if that's what you really want."
Aaron and Marina got to work. The black bags were heavy, and it wasn't long before her back and arms were aching from the hard labor, but she didn't complain. Her lover carried three times as much as her in an obvious attempt to be chivalric. She appreciated it.
The bags were dropped into a chute which fed a large, very intimidating machine. It made a sound like the mother of all kitchen garbage disposals. She could imagine it digesting whole bodies in a flash.
A half-hour later, the job was done. Marina stretched her stiff muscles. She didn't feel the need to get any more exercise today.
Caldwell had stood guard the entire time.
Marina went to him and shook his hand. "Thank you for this valuable service. If you check your bank balance, you'll see you've already been paid. I'll be in touch if I need similar help in the future."
"You're welcome." He sounded uncertain.
"Listen." She looked into his eyes. "You won't get into trouble for this. We're not criminals. Today, we destroyed something that needed to be destroyed. You should feel proud, not ashamed. Bye."
Marina climbed into the driver's seat of the delivery van, and Aaron sat on the passenger side. She drove off.
She sighed. "There are times I really wish I could tell the truth."
"Same here." He nodded. "The whole system is screwed up."
"And we're stuck with it forever."
She drove up an onramp and merged onto Interstate 880. The huge highway ran up the east shore of the San Francisco Bay. Four lanes on each side carried an endless flow of traffic which continued at all hours of the day or night.
Marina's phone rang. The caller ID showed Ipo's code number, and she put it against her ear.
"Yes?"
"No luck, ma'am," Ipo said in his rumbling voice. "The pastor at the Holy Covenant Church didn't recognize the girl."
She sighed. "This isn't working. It's time for Aaron and me to come up with a better plan. I'll call you back."
"Yes, ma'am."
Marina put away her phone. "We need help," she told Aaron. "We won't find the girl on our own, at least not in a reasonable amount of time."
"We can't involve the authorities," he said. "They'll ask too many questions."
"I know." She furrowed her brow. "We'll have to use the other side of the law."
"Involving a crime boss entails its own complications."
"I'll pay him for his trouble."
"But he won't trust you," Aaron said. "These guys are highly paranoid sociopaths. The deal could end in bloodshed."
"Then I'll bring him a gift to prove my sincerity," Marina said.
"What sort of gift?"
"A substantial one. I may want to use this crime boss in the future. I might as well establish a good, working relationship now."
She glanced at him and saw him frowning.
"This is getting messy," he said. "Who would've thought finding one runaway teenager would be so hard?"
"It is what it is." She took out her phone and called Jia.
"Ma'am?" the hacker said.
"Get the name of the most powerful criminal in the South Bay. Work up a basic profile. Then get the name of his worst enemy."
"Why?"
"Because I need a gift," Marina said. "Get to work." She hung up.
Aaron sighed. "This is getting very messy."
"But at least it will be exciting."
He answered with a silent look of disapproval.
Chapter Ten
Hanley studied the Chinese restaurant. Wooden paneling on the exterior was painted red, gold, yellow, and brown. Chinese letters decorated the red awning in front, and there was no English that he could see. The parking lot was packed full of generally cheap cars. The building had two floors, but it appeared from the outside that the restaurant only occupied the first floor.
He turned to his fellow legionnaires. They were in a van parked across the street from the restaurant. Ipo was driving, and Hanley also sat up front. Katie and Liam were sitting in the middle.
All four of them were wearing the "good" armor. It was made of dense, thick fibers woven together to form a fabric as thick as carpet. Supposedly, the high-tech material could stop any kind of bullet short of an armor-piercing sniper round. The armor protected their entire bodies except for their heads, hands, and feet, but it still allowed free movement. Triangular ceramic plates provided additional coverage for critical organs. A black and gray, striped camouflage pattern was perfect for night operations like this one.
Hanley had practiced in the good armor, but tonight would be its first use in the field for him. Marina had ordered her legionnaires to take extra precautions because she was worried about their safety, and as a result, he was also worried. The commander wasn't known for giving such orders lightly.
"Are you still sure we'll find Wan Heung here?" Ipo said.
&n
bsp; He had his phone open and in speaker mode so the whole team could hear the conversation.
"Pretty sure," Min Ho replied through the phone. "According to my intel, he lives on the second floor. A brothel and an illegal card room are also there. Look for a stairway behind the restaurant."
"OK," Ipo said. "We'll trust you."
"One other thing. He has a nickname. It's in Chinese, but the English translation is 'penis cutter.' It's because he likes to cut off the penises of his enemies while they're still alive."
"That's a lovely image. Thank you for sharing."
"I thought it was worth mentioning, sir," Min Ho said. "Good luck."
"Give us fifteen minutes, then black out the neighborhood."
"Yes, sir."
Ipo put away his phone. He started the van, drove across the street, and quietly circled around the restaurant to a back alley. As Min Ho had promised, there was an iron stairway leading up to the second floor. Two Chinese men in business suits were standing guard at the bottom of the stairway. Hanley easily picked out the gun bulges under their jackets. Ipo parked down the alley in a discreet location.
"Hanley and I will take the lead," Ipo said. "Katie, follow us and stay close. I don't want to lose you in the chaos."
"I'll be right on your heels," Katie said.
"Liam, wait here in the van. You're our backup. If you see any kind of trouble, call me immediately."
"Sure," Liam replied in a tone of relief.
Does he not want to go? Hanley wondered.
"Our primary objective is kidnapping Wan Heung," Ipo said. "We'll try to do it without killing anybody, but if the operation goes south, don't be afraid to use your guns. Protect yourself! The most important thing is for all of us to get home safely. I'd much rather tell Marina that the target got away than she lost a legionnaire. Am I clear?"
Everybody nodded and concurred.
"Good. Put on your helmets."
Hanley had a combat helmet in his lap. He slipped it over his head, and an integrated mask covered his face. He pulled the straps to create an air-tight seal. The mask had a gas filter and night vision goggles. When he turned on the goggles, night became day except everything was pale green. The mask made his face itch.