As the HK police scurried around, representatives from the container port came over and got into what looked like a heated discussion with Lieutenant Gui and several of his men. From what Lasko could tell, it seemed to be about when the wharf would be reopened to ship traffic again. The bickering voices even got loud enough to carry to his location.
While watching the argument, Lasko heard a quiet voice in his ear. “Blue Hand, prepare for extraction.”
“Affirmative. Extract in two minutes.” Lasko folded and stowed his tarp and slung his rifle after removing the suppressor and covering the scope. After making sure no one was looking in his direction, he began climbing out onto the long boom of the idle crane. At the very end, he tied off a loop of Edelrid Cobra 10.3mm rope to the lowest bar, pulled on climbing gloves, and radioed in. “Blue Hand ready for extraction.”
A black Zodiac raft with a silent electric motor zipped out from behind a docked cargo ship toward the crane. Timing his descent, the Keldara sniper fast-rappelled down until he hung a meter over the water.
The Zodiac slowed just enough for him to drop in and untie the knot, allowing him to collect the rope. At the tiller, Vanel twisted the throttle and turned the raft around as Marko kept watch on the men further down the wharf.
In seconds, the three men disappeared back into the night.
Chapter Twelve
“While your methods are highly unorthodox, Mr. Kildar, I must say that I cannot fault their effectiveness,” Arun Than said.
He was sitting on the rear deck of the Big Fish, dressed in a white linen short-sleeved shirt and trousers, and drinking a cup of cha-dam-ron, traditional strong black tea sweetened with sugar, no milk.
Across from him, Mike sipped a cup of strong black coffee. “I was a bit concerned that you might try to resist once you saw we were going into the water. However, once the divers got to you, everything went as well as it could.”
Once in the water, Mike, Jace, Than, and Adams had all been met by Inara team members, who gave them each buddy mouthpieces and escorted them from the operation area to a large Zodiac they had waiting four hundred yards past the operation zone. The moment the four men were onboard, the raft had zipped back to the yacht. They had waited for the rest of the teams to join them, including Lasko, Vanel, and Marko, who rendezvoused with the 35-foot tender vessel five miles out. Once everyone was aboard, they had gotten underway, and were currently enjoying the sunrise while heading out into the South China Sea as fast as the twin Cat 3606 engines could propel them.
“I hope the clothes that were selected for you are comfortable,” Mike said. “It was too bad nothing could be done about your suit. Again, we’ll make sure a replacement is sent to you.”
The lean Thai shook his head. “Since this is the second time my life has been saved by you and your people, I think it is me who should be offering you a gift.”
Their conversation was politely interrupted by Daria, who led Tsira and Martya onto the deck. The latter girls were each carrying a covered, silver serving platter. “Gentlemen, breakfast is served. Mr. Than, as we were unsure as to what you would prefer, we took the liberty of having our chef prepare what we understand to be three traditional Thai breakfast foods.”
Tsira set her tray down and removed the top, letting Than inspect the offerings. “Chok, our classic rice porridge. Khao khai chiao, an omelet with white rice. I see you even included the typical chili sauce and cucumber slices. And khao tom, or rice soup, this one looks to be made with shrimp.” He leaned back in his chair and smiled at the ladies. “Well done, it all looks delicious. You will join me, of course, Mr. Kildar?”
“Call me Mike.” The Kildar picked up his fork and knife as Martya set down a large tray, laden with his traditional eggs, steak, bacon, home fries, and toast. Noting his guest’s appreciative gaze, Mike motioned for him to dig in as the girls left. “There’s plenty here, so feel free.”
“Thank you.” Than stabbed a piece of bacon from Mike’s tray and added it to his meal. “Although I appreciate your staff’s enthusiasm, I haven’t eaten any of this in years. Not since I was scratching a living out in Bangkok. My tastes run to more Western fare nowadays.”
“From what I gather, you’ve come a long way since then.” Mike said as he popped a slice of steak into his mouth.
“Some would say yes, some would say no. What I do not have, it would seem, is the connections that you have in places like Hong Kong.” Than ate a bite of his omelet, chewing thoughtfully. “For example, if you do not mind my boldness, just how did you know that the police were waiting to arrest all of us?”
Mike cleared his throat. “I had not been quite as forthcoming about that in our previous conversations. I have a highly placed informant in the Hong Kong Police. When they learned of my detainment two nights ago, they got me released shortly after Lieutenant Gui let you go. I figured we were being followed anyway, and that was confirmed late yesterday afternoon. That was the reason I needed to get you and myself away from the police in a fashion that would prevent any effective pursuit.”
“Which seems to have worked very well indeed. However, I would guess that the heavily-armed men that you have at your disposal would also prevent the authorities of any nation from asking too many questions.” Than leaned forward. “You cannot be just a simple mercenary hired for Soon Yi’s protection. Just who are you exactly, and why are you here?”
Mike sipped his orange juice. “That, Arun, is a long story for another time. For now, let’s just say I brought some of my people down here to do some specialized training, and have stumbled onto something that certain groups want me to look into further.”
“How artfully vague.” Than nodded and smiled as he continued eating.
“Trust me, you really do not want to know any more.” Mike finished his steak and started on his eggs. Besides, like you said earlier, I’m sure you have skeletons in your closet that you’d prefer your clients don’t know about either.”
The Thai’s brown eyes twinkled as he nodded. “Oh, more than you can count. Since I expect to be a guest on your yacht for a few days, perhaps I’ll even share one or two. Asia is a fascinating region in many ways. But for now, let us finish our meal and then conclude our business, yes?”
“Of course. But to avoid any misunderstanding, you are my guest while you are aboard this vessel. My only request is that you do not approach the bridge, or attempt to enter any of the staterooms that are guarded by any of my men. Oh, and the young ladies aboard are not for recreational purposes. Other than that, you have the run of the rest of the ship.”
“You are most kind. Regarding your women, delightful though they appear, my proclivities do not extend in that direction. Rest assured that no one here is in danger of receiving any unwanted advances. Your men, while handsome, tend to run a bit too—defined for my taste.”
“Fair enough.”
“In the meantime, I might as well deliver to you the rest of your payment.” Than began unbuttoning his shirt, revealing a wrinkled, still-damp t-shirt underneath. “Just a moment while I…take this off.”
“Would you like some privacy?” Mike asked with one eyebrow raised.
“No, it will just take a moment. Besides, it will be good to have this clammy thing away from me.” He removed the shirt and pulled the t-shirt off over his head. Mike noticed that the undergarment didn’t behave like a normal shirt—it flexed oddly, as if made of a thicker material.
“Bulletproof?” he asked.
“Perhaps, although I would hate to test it.” He set the t-shirt on the table with an odd clunk. “Go ahead, examine it.”
Mike picked it up and was surprised by the weight and thickness. “The rest of the gems, right?”
Than nodded. “A friend of mine uses these particular garments to smuggle currency into and out of China on occasion. He claims he’s never been caught, and gave me one to try. I figured last night would be the perfect opportunity. When I get a chance, I must thank your bodyguard for his assistan
ce. I had no idea it would be that heavy underwater.”
“You’ll have your chance soon enough.” Mike worked on the cloth of the shirt with his knife and extracted one of the gems, a flawless, one-carat diamond. He held it up so the gem gleamed in the sun. “Now that is pretty.”
“Plenty more where those came from,” Than said. “I would prefer to see what they are buying, if you do not mind.”
“Of course, Vanner will be happy to show you the rest of the motherboards. That reminds me, since you and I are both now persona non grata in Hong Kong for the immediate future, where would you like to go from here?”
Than sipped his tea. “That is an excellent question. Of course, I am supposed to ensure delivery of that package to its final destination.”
Mike frowned. “My intel indicated that you usually didn’t get involved in that sort of thing.”
“There is payment, and there is payment,” Than said with a smile. “My personal services are available, although the cost is exorbitant. However, when someone is willing to meet that price, that is exactly what they receive. Since the package’s ultimate destination is Myanmar, only a brief step away from my old stomping grounds of Thailand, I would like to make you a proposition.”
“I’m listening,” Mike said while he kept opening the shirt’s interior compartments. Soon the table was littered with glittering gems, which flashed red, blue, white, and yellow in the morning sunlight.
“You have the gems, but have you thought about how you are going to convert them into cash?”
Mike looked up at that. “Oh, I have one or two ways.”
“No doubt a man of your means does. However, you will not receive a better rate than in Phuket, Thailand, the gem-smuggling capital of Southeast Asia. I can get you whatever payment you desire, gold, U.S. dollars, bearer bonds, you name it, and at a better price than you would receive anywhere else—even in America.”
“I don’t know—I know some people who would make me a pretty good deal. But let’s say I’m interested—what’s in it for you?”
In exchange for my expertise in this area, you agree to escort myself and the boards to their final destination in Myanmar. As I said, we’d be heading there anyway, so we might as well kill two birds with one stone, as it were. Your payment would be the improved percentage I will negotiate on your behalf.”
While Than was talking, Mike had removed all of the gems and piled them on the cloth. He tied the ends together to make an improvised satchel and sat there staring at the small fortune on the table in front of him. Leaning back in his chair, he finished his coffee, then looked up at Than.
“Sure, why the hell not?”
* * *
Vanner couldn’t take his eyes off the shining pile of gems in the middle of the conference room table. “How much do you figure they’re worth?”
“At current rates on the international market, these are valued at somewhere between three-and-a-half and four million dollars, given the standard fluctuation,” Daria said. “Black market rates would probably be around half to two-thirds of the low end.”
“I expect Than will do better than that. Don’t forget that he wants us to escort him to Myanmar along with the boards,” Mike said. “This is practically falling into our lap.”
“Yeah, that’s what worries me,” Jace said while staring at the gems. “You know the old mission saw: anything that looks too good to be true always isn’t.”
“Spoken like a true operator.” Mike scooped up a handful of the gems and let them trickle through his fingers. “However, since the winds of fortune are blowing us in the right direction, I see no reason not to let them take us as far as possible.”
“I notice you didn’t say whether they were winds of good fortune or bad,” Vanner said.
“We won’t know until we reach the next port, will we?” Mike asked as he rose from the table. “Speaking of which, I’m about to go wake up a man whose good luck has just run out. All of you will probably want to watch this.”
* * *
“Damn, what is that stink?” Jace asked.
“That is eau de Ass-Boy, after marinating in equal parts beer, women, and Hong Kong for the past 36 hours.” Mike shook his head. “It’s a miracle he didn’t come back buck-naked with who-knows-what tattooed on who-knows-where.”
Mike, Vanner, Jace, Daria, Greznya, and many of the Keldara were all gathered on the rear deck, watching the still form of Adams as he sawed logs in the bright sunlight. The Master Chief was dressed in what looked like a pair of battered dungarees, one flip-flop, and a loud, stained, and buttonless Hawaiian shirt that was missing one sleeve.
“Typically the punishment for dereliction of duty and failure to report would have been a keelhauling during the days of the Royal Navy. However, since the offender did return and attempt to acquit himself somewhat honorably, the following lighter punishment will be administered.” Mike held out a hand, and a large bucket was given to him. “The rest of you may want to stand back.”
After the proper precautions were taken, Mike poured the entire five-gallons of ice-cold seawater over Adams’s head. The frigid deluge shocked the former SEAL into a semblance of awareness; he sat up, coughed out about a pint of water and other, less identifiable fluids before falling back onto the deck.
“Master Chief Charles Adams, ten-HUT!” Mike bellowed. That got his second-in-command sitting upright again. “Front and center!” That almost got Adams standing, but he slipped on the pool of liquid and landed on his ass again. The shock was enough to get him oriented toward the Kildar, who was glaring at with all the vehemence he could muster.
“Master Chief, you are charged with failure to report. How do you plead?” Mike demanded.
“I mad’ mov’ment, sir!” Adams pulled himself up, almost overbalanced and fell on his face, but saved himself with much arm-flailing.
“I have heard this story before, Master Chief! May I remind you that we are very far from Las Vegas!” Mike replied.
“Accomp’ished my miss’n, sir!” Adams managed.
“And how—” Mike’s dressing down of Adams was interrupted by a strange noise. “What is that noise, Master Chief?”
“Thas—my phone—jus’ a minit…” Adams groped for his side pocket and dragged out his smartphone, which looked just as bad as its owner.
“I knew getting him the shock and liquid-proof case would come in handy,” Vanner said.
“See! Miss’n…accomp’ished! Goddamn Chinese beer, like screwin’ inna canoe…” Adams said. Still swaying, he held the phone out to Mike, who grabbed it and read the screen.
“What did Master Chief mean by that last part?” Greznya asked.
“He meant it is fucking close to water,” Vanner replied with a straight face. “What’s the word, Kildar?”
Mike read everything on the screen, then thumbed up to the top and read it again. “If I wasn’t seeing it right here, I wouldn’t believe it. Listen to fucking this: ‘Dear Mr. Adams: We were very impressed by the materials you had given Mr. Lau regarding the Mountain Tiger Brewery. The follow-up meeting with you last night was also very remarkable—’”
“Given what he looks like, I’m surprised anyone even remembered there was a meeting last night,” Vanner said.
“Wait, there’s more.” Mike continued reading: “‘We look forward to further discussions, and to entering into a mutually beneficial business partnership between your company and ours. Sincerely, Mr. Lao Chen, Vice-President of European Imports, Xìngfú Distribution International.’ Got his goddamn business card attached to the e-mail and everything.”
Mike raised his head to stare at Adams. “You told me it was a meeting with your buddy, in and out. Just who the hell else did you meet with in Hong Kong?”
“There was…lotta singin’…karaoke…” Adams slurred. “Lotsa beer and wha’d they call it…bye-joo?”
“Oh, shit. No wonder he’s been flat on his ass ever since he got back,” Jace said. “Russians have vodka, Irish ha
ve whisky, and the Chinese have bái jiǔ. It’s an alcoholic drink distilled from rice in the south, and from sorghum, wheat, or Job’s tears in the north. It starts at 80 proof, and goes up to 120, although I’ve heard rumors of a 140 proof variety that can strip skin off your tongue and paint off a car. Since he was an honored guest, I’m sure they served him the more potent varieties, as those have the least impurities.”
“Now that I would have paid to see,” Vanner muttered.
“Well, despite his deplorable condition, I cannot argue with results,” Mike said. “In light of this new evidence, all charges are hereby dropped.” He tossed the phone to Vanner. “Forward all of this information to Mother Mahona, have her secure a translator from Jace’s recommendations, and begin negotiations on the contract.”
“I would advise an Asian law firm for the contract as well, sir. It will make things much easier in the long run.”
“Do it.” Mike turned back to Adams, who was still swaying back and forth, despite the fact that they were at a full stop on a calm sea. “Master Chief Adams, get the hell off what was my nice, clean deck and clean yourself up!”
“Yes, sirrr…” Adams came to attention, saluted…and pitched headlong toward that same deck. He would have broken his nose if not for Mike grabbing him and shoving him back into the waiting arms of Oleg and Vil.
“Get him cleaned up and racked out. I want him ready to go when we reach Phuket.” Mike shook his head. “If even half of what I’ve heard is true, I am going to have to put him in a straight-jacket when we go ashore.”
* * *
That night, Vanel couldn’t sleep. The Kildar’s training regimen didn’t slack off while in the field (it included cross-overs under the stationary yacht). That, combined with four-hour duty watches, prep for upcoming missions, and a shift learning how to pilot and navigate the boat itself, meant he should have been lights out as soon as he hit the mattress, but something was keeping him awake.
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