“And we’re smuggling this all in with us?”
“Nah, I’ll carry some of it, but the rest I’ll ship to my contact who will already be there.”
“What’s your plan for getting us out of the U.S. and into Beijing without Solarez and the FBI stopping me?”
“We’ll go over that later. You need to wire the agreed money into an offshore bank account I set up. I gotta pay some of my buddies in advance for their help.”
“Okay, I’ll do that the day before we leave so my uncle doesn’t catch wind of it and shut us down. I don’t know how he would, since it’s my money, but I don’t wanna take any chances.”
“That won’t work, they want to be paid now.”
Amanda glares at him. “Guess I’ll have to risk it. I’ll do it when I get back to the farm.”
“You should learn some Mandarin too.”
“In a few days? Oh sure, no problem.”
“You won’t be fluent. Common phrases, numbers, that kind of thing. Here’s a book.”
He reaches into the pocket on the back of her seat and gives her a well-worn, palm-size paperback. She picks it up and leafs through a few pages.
“Looks like someone got a lot of use out of this. You, I’m guessing?”
“Yep. You can get a small digital translator too, if you want. You say something in English and it’ll say it back in Mandarin. You just need to learn the basics, like, ‘Do you sell C-4 here?’”
“What??”
“I’m kidding.”
Solarez receives the report from his agent who tailed Ryan and Amanda.
“You need to take her into custody for her own good, sir. Ryan is in contact with her. What if he was hired to get to her? Why else would he be interested in her?”
Solarez runs the fingers of his right hand along his solid cherry desk as he thinks.
“Harming her obviously isn’t part of his plan. If it was, he would’ve done it by now. He’s either working for the kidnappers and is planning to deliver her to them alive, or he somehow got his hooks in her. I’m not sure which.”
“But sir, Ryan was working with Franklin, and Franklin’s dead. What if Ryan was involved? The girl could be next.”
“Instead of messing up his plans, whatever they are, let’s use Ryan to our advantage. If he’s working with the kidnappers, he may lead us to them. I’ll reach out to Braningham, maybe we can convince the Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Act judge we need a bug on Amanda Michaels so we know where she is at all times, and a warrant for Ryan’s international calls and internet activity, so we know who he’s talking to. In the meantime, stay as close as possible to both of them.”
Chapter 70
Tracking Ryan
The Chinese analyst tracks the location of the Ryan’s pickup on his monitor through the tiny device magnetically attached to the undercarriage of the black Ford. First, Ryan visited a shooting range for a number of hours. Afterward, he travelled to a non‑descript facility in a shopping center. The analyst later did a background check on the business but still wasn't sure why Ryan went there.
He types up his report to his supervisor in the Chinese embassy, recommending personal active surveillance of Ryan.
Chapter 71
Dropped
Barbara Grofelt and a young associate from her law firm, Andrew, enter the lobby of the high-rise. As they approach the elevator bank, the doors are closing on a crowded car. Grofelt knifes her hand through the narrow slit between the two doors, forcing them to reopen, and they squeeze in. Moments later they are standing at the large horseshoe-shaped receptionist station at Franklin's law firm.
"We’re here for a meeting with Mr. Lyle about the Hemispheres versus Michaels case."
The receptionist speaks into the small mouthpiece on her headset. "Barbara Grofelt is here for Mr. Lyle.”
A few moments later James Lyle walks into the reception area to greet them. "Barbara, so good to see you, even under these terrible circumstances."
He ushers her and the associate into a large conference room with an expansive wooden table, numerous chairs, and a wall of windows overlooking the street below. Another attorney from Lyle’s firm is already there. As soon as they have been introduced and are seated, Grofelt begins.
"Your former partner convinced me to join this high-profile case, and I was relying on your firm to do the heavy lifting. How is this going to work now that Paul is dead?"
"We were planning on pressing forward, with the two of us taking the lead in Franklin’s place."
"Well I want out." The two attorneys replacing Franklin look at Grofelt in disbelief as she continues. "I came here as a courtesy. I can file a motion to withdraw from the case without your consent, but I didn't want the press to hold anything against you if you decide to carry on without me. I don’t feel comfortable continuing. I'm not trying to cast any aspersions against either of you, but I don't know you from Adam. I only agreed to work on the case because of my relationship with Paul.”
“Let me know by tomorrow afternoon if you want to move forward. I'll file my own motion to withdraw and won’t make any court pronouncements that would adversely affect your case."
The two attorneys look at each other incredulously.
"There's nothing we can say to convince you—?" Lyle begins.
"Not unless you can bring Paul Franklin back from the grave. I'll wait to hear from you tomorrow."
With that, Grofelt stands and starts for the door with young Andrew looking feebly at both of the attorneys as he grabs his expandable file off the table and stuffs it into his oversized briefcase on his way out.
At 4:00 p.m. the next day, Lyle calls Grofelt at her office.
"We had a partner meeting this morning and we’re requesting that you wait a couple days to file the motion. We'd like to go to the government and see if we can get them to pay us nuisance money, even if it's just case expenses, so they won’t file for attorneys’ fees against us if we seek to dismiss the case. Remember, since you were part of the case, your firm could be held responsible for reimbursing their potentially massive fees too."
Grofelt hates being told what to do, but she hates the thought of paying thousands of dollars to the government even more. "Fine, I won’t file, but I don't want the press getting wind of any of this. This has to be handled in a private discussion with the assistant U.S. attorney representing the government. I'm not so sure I shouldn't be the one negotiating the issue."
"Oh no, we brought you in on the case, we should be the ones to negotiate. Please don't file anything until we get back to you."
Chapter 72
South Beach
Ryan texts Liza:
Hey - How u been?
Fifteen minutes later he gets her reply.
Surprised to hear from you. Whassup?
Let's get together. Will be coming to NYC, can we meet?
Her response is nearly immediate.
Can't meet in NYC. At fashion trade show, South Beach, FL. Two more days left.
South Beach sounds appealing. Some sunshine would be a nice complement to getting together with Liza again.
I can be there tomorrow. Just need your hotel.
He smiles and hopes she bites. If there's one thing he's come to enjoy about Liza and their relationship, or the lack thereof, it’s the adventure, unpredictability, and intensity of it. He tries to recall how long they’ve been doing this as he waits for her to answer.
The reply comes five minutes later. Did she wait to send it on purpose?
The Rendezvous Hotel, South Beach.
He texts back immediately.
I'll be there tomorrow. Won't have this phone, look for a 202 area code.
Ryan hops online and books a flight and hotel under an alias supported by one of his many fake driver’s licenses.
When Ryan arrives at his hotel room the next morning, he opens the sliding glass door on his balcony and scopes out the Olympic-size pool, which is very enticing in the 91-degree heat of south Fl
orida. After slipping on his trunks and t‑shirt, he strides toward the bank of elevators and texts Liza from his burner phone.
Arrived.
Liza talks to one of her inside sales assistants at the company’s New York sales office. "We've got to ship the new line of dimpled leather handbags to Macy's by the end of this week, Albert. I've been promising their buyer for weeks. There will be hell to pay if we don’t—”
"I don't have confirmation that the container hit the port yet,” Albert counters.
"That's insane. Talk to the freight forwarder and get that container unloaded. Call me back this afternoon."
Liza hangs up and stares down at the pool through the sliding glass door of her room. She notices a guy swimming laps and one or two people hanging out in the chaise lounges on either side. Not much of a crowd since it's only 9:15 in the morning. Is that Ryan? She thinks to herself. She walks out on the balcony, cell phone in hand. She looks again, but still can’t tell for sure until he pulls himself out of the water and walks the short distance to pick up his towel off a chair. It’s him, she’d know that gait anywhere. She scrolls through her messages, sees a new one from the 202 area code, and decides to call instead of texting.
Down at the pool, Ryan hears a phone ringing. At first he ignores the unfamiliar ringtone, then realizes it’s the burner phone. He looks at the number and sees the NYC area code.
"Hello?"
"Hey, it's Liza. Was that you who just got out of the pool?"
He looks around in several directions, but doesn't see her. "I guess so. Where are you?”
"Look south. I'm on a balcony on the 10th floor, waving.”
Ryan spots her and waves back. "There you are. I thought you were in meetings today."
"I'm supposed to be there by 10:00, but I could spare a few minutes. I'm getting in the shower, care to join me? Room 1016, I’ll leave the door open a crack.”
“On my way.”
Ryan approaches the door to Room 1016, pushes the door open, and walks inside. He hears running water through the slightly open bathroom door. As he tries to make out her nude body through the steamy glass shower walls, he unties the drawstrings of his trunks, which drop to the floor, and he takes several steps toward the shower stall. Instead of opening the door, he presses his body against it so she can see every part of his taut body.
“What took you so long?”
Ryan says nothing as he pulls the door open and steps in. He presses his body against hers and their tongues meet as their arms intertwine. Her hands drop to his ass and pull him toward her. Neither notice the water pulsating against their heads.
Ryan dries off on the mat outside the shower and walks out of the bathroom with his towel draped over one arm. Liza admires his strong body. She wraps a towel more demurely over her breasts and it barely covers the V at the top of her thighs. Ryan notices a few beads of water still collected in her cleavage above the towel that is begging to be ripped off of her. He flops face-down on the bed and she slaps his ass.
"I know you want something. Ty Ryan would never fly down here just for good sex.”
"What makes you say that?"
"I know how you operate."
"Let's talk this afternoon. What time do you think you'll be done with your show, or sessions, or whatever you do at these events?”
"Why don't we meet down by the pool at 4:30?"
"Sounds good. Guess I'll go work out, I don't exactly have a busy agenda. I'll meet you at the swim-up bar and we can talk over a drink."
He picks up his wet trunks and slips them on, ignoring the cold, wet fabric. Years of SEAL training make that minor inconvenience, well, a real minor one. For a split second, he flashes back to his ice-water training in Kodiak, Alaska, where purposely wading into freezing arctic waters was a daily training ritual.
"See you later,” he says and walks out.
Liza goes into the bathroom to take care of her makeup, wondering what Ryan’s up to and how he thinks she’s going to be involved.
Chapter 73
Logistix
At 4:20, Ryan wades into the shallow part of the pool where a series of round, concrete stools line the swim-up bar.
"Jack Daniels, on the rocks with a splash. Oh, and I’ll need a margarita for someone who’s joining me.” He admires the female bartender who wears a bikini top and her hair pulled back in a high bun as he places his order. I could live in South Beach, no wonder people love this place.
Liza wades toward him a few minutes later wearing a tiny red, white, and blue bikini over her thin frame. Her eyes hide behind brown Michael Morse wayfarer sunglasses. Ryan looks at her and admires her youthful, athletic shape. The split second of lust passes.
“Okay, now tell me the real reason you flew down to see me.” She places the swizzle straw on the stone bar and takes the first sip of her margarita.
"I have a sensitive but lucrative contract mission. I’m going to Beijing and need help with logistics. My entry will be through southern China.”
"Just logistics? What does it involve?”
"We're going to be doing some surveillance, but the less you know the better."
“Of course. But our factories are in Dongguan, not in Beijing.”
"Then I need you to come up with a reason to be in Beijing, and soon.”
"I’m assuming if I ask who our client is, you're not going to tell me."
“You assume correctly.”
“What’s the rush? This takes some time.”
“There’s an event taking place.”
“How many on your team?”
“Two.”
“No one’s being eliminated?”
“No. I'm offering you $200,000.00 for what I need."
"Wow, keep going."
"Lawyers, guns, and money. Just kidding. No lawyers. I need specific weapons in a duffel bag in a locker in Shenzhen, along with cash, which I’ll provide on top of the $200,000, and two burner phones. You’ll need a phone too. I need two adjoining rooms in two Beijing hotels, close to Tiananmen Square. A rental car, or any car that is untraceable.”
"This is too easy, what else?"
“I need you to buy a commercial drone before we arrive and get us video of all persons coming and going at a certain residence. This is where you earn you keep. It needs to look legitimate, like you’re doing it for a real estate company, surveyor, or contractor. Then I need you to have the drone in the duffel with the other supplies.”
"Here we go. There are some high-value targets in this residence, right?” She asks.
“Nope, no high value targets.”
He takes a healthy swig of his drink and runs his finger down the condensation clinging to the exterior of the clear plastic bar cup.
“Who’s ‘us’? You said ‘get us video.’”
“Again, the less you know, the less you can spill under, um, duress.”
Liza sips her drink a few moments. “I could be some kind of utilities inspector or government employee shooting the footage for a new sewage project. We’re adding so many new apartment buildings we have to lay more pipe.”
“I like it.”
"Anything else?"
"Yeah. Once we get to Beijing, I want to be able to reach you in case something else is needed. We won’t plan to meet, but I may need more support if we run into a problem.”
What else?"
“The car needs to be at the Beijing train station, and we'll be using it for several days."
"And?"
“You may need to plant some items on the ferry between Hong Kong and Shenzhen. I might think of some other stuff, but that's it for now."
“$200,000.00?" she confirms. “What weapons?”
“I’ll make a list. You told me before you have a weapons source. Reliable?”
“Very much so under normal circumstances, but you’re giving me no time at all.”
"I know. I’ll need your wire transfer info. Can you get on this by tomorrow and be in China in two days?”
&
nbsp; “My great aunt lives in Beijing, and I haven’t seen her in like seven years. And now they allow you to visit other parts of the country as long as you have an approved travel visa.”
"So, you're in?
“For that kind of cash, I’m in. You must be getting paid well too, Ty, which usually means there’s a lot of risk involved. Should I be worried about you?”
Ryan smiles, knowing he has just the right person inside to make the operation come together, but he says nothing. The movement of the bartender’s breasts—barely covered by her hot-pink fringed bikini top—while she shakes a martini a few feet away distracts him for a moment.
“No, you don’t have to worry. I don’t take on suicide missions.”
“I’m not sure if that’s reassuring or not. When will you be in Beijing?”
“Soon. I’ll include the exact dates on the weapons list.”
“I take it you have the visas lined up?”
“Yep, along with our Canadian passports. We’re going to be from Toronto.”
“I can have your letters of introduction to you tomorrow. I’m thinking you’ll be IT specialists designing the software to interface with a Chinese factory’s large Canadian customer. Can you build out that role?”
“Sure. We’ll need to have some markers that you don’t place until you’ve accomplished the logistics, like the rooms and cars.”
She looks at him with a frown.
“I know it seems stupid, you would never get compromised, right? But I’ve gotta have some way of knowing if something goes wrong. I don’t wanna use the burner phones except as a last resort.”
“Okay, the Beijing train station can be the first place. Then you pick a place close to one of the hotels. How about a pink peace sign? We can pick the exact spots later, in my room.”
Targeting the Telomeres, A Thriller Page 20