Solemn Duty (1997)

by Leonard B Scott

  Ashley lifted her chin and took the cell phone from her pocket "Doctor, you rode with him here. The Agent in Charge is Agent Tanner."

  "No! He didn't seem the type. Are you sure?"

  "Oh yeah, I'm sure and you're wrong, he's exactly the type.

  Damn fool." Ashley pushed the number keys knowing she would have some explaining to do to Ramona Valez. Despite her promise to the doctor, she'd made the mistake of letting Eli Tanner out of her sight. Damn fool.

  .

  6 A. M. Leesburg, Virginia.

  The doctor shook his head. "He has become very weak since you have been gone. He needs to be placed in a hospital immediately. I have done all I can for him, but--"

  Jean Paul Devoe raised his hand, cutting him off. "Yes, I'm sure you have. I want to see him."

  The doctor looked at Devoe. "You have just returned from a long trip, don't you think you should rest?"

  Jean Paul motioned to the door. "I must see him."

  The doctor opened the door and stepped back. "I give him only a few weeks . . . if that," he whispered.

  Jean Paul stepped into the dark room and walked toward the bed. A light came on, revealing a nurse who immediately stood. "He is sleeping, Mr. Devoe, and should not be--"

  "Little one, is that you?' the man in the bed said.

  Jean Paul motioned the nurse to leave as he stepped up to the bed. "It is me, old friend. It is almost finished."

  Quan Tram sat up and hugged Devoe to him. "I . . . I am responsible for the captain's loss. . . . I should have--" He pushed Devoe back and began coughing. He brought a cloth to his mouth and coughed again and again. The cloth was stained with blood. Jean Paul patted his mentor's shoulder. "You never have to apologize to me, old friend. It was not your fault. It was mine. I should have given our people the duty and not the Chinese. Thankfully, their technical support is competent. They have already located Anderson in the Army hospital in Fort Belvoir."

  Having finally stopped coughing, Tram leaned back against the headboard and rolled his eyes. "I must plan, then. You must finish the work and--"

  Jean Paul again patted the older man's shoulder. "No, my friend. We will take care of the others first. Nim reports they will both be easy to pick up. We will follow your plan and they will be yours to teach suffering."

  Tram nodded and looked into Devoe's eyes. "So it is done, little one . . . you have put them all to rest. . . . I should have been with you. I should have--"

  "You were with me, old friend, and all the others were with me. I made them remember us all. I waited until I saw it in their eyes. . . . Each remembered, old friend. Rest now and regain your strength. In a few hours you will have your long-awaited opportunity to teach the lying devils how to suffer. You will make them remember as I did, old friend. Rest now."

  Tram grasped Devoe's hand. "I cannot die now, little one. I feel death coming but I cannot die now. You must help me finish it."

  Tears welled in Jean Paul's eyes as he tried to smile. "You will finish it in only a few hours. Close your eyes and sleep. I will wake you soon and we will finish it together."

  Patting Tram's hand a last time, Jean Paul backed away and turned for the door. His mentor was coughing again, but Devoe kept walking, afraid to look back. He did not want the old one to see more of his tears.

  Days Inn Motel, Fairfax The sun had been up for an hour when Ashley opened the motel room door for Eli, who was still talking to Brewer in the hallway. ". . . yeah, I'll just take a quick shower, change, and be right out. I'll see ya in ten minutes."

  Eli stepped into the room and saw Ashley standing beside a cart covered with a white tablecloth. "What's this?" he asked tiredly.

  Ashley pulled off the cover. "I called ahead and had them bring these things up to your mom. It's supposed to be your wind-down kit-breakfast and a beer. I asked if they had a tape player and cassette of Garth Brooks singing 'The Last Dance,' but you know room service these days. I'm sorry you won't have time to eat. . . . When I called, I didn't know about the meeting."

  Eli smiled as he pulled the bottle of beer from the tub of ice.

  "You know, Agent Sutton, behind that ice queen facade is a very understanding lady. Thanks. Meeting or not, I'm drinkin' this beer."

  Ashley slowly backed toward the door. "Better enjoy that beer, Tanner, it might be the last good thing you get for a while.

  I got a call while you were in the debrief. The nine o'clock meeting they called is not just another debrief for the big boys.

  It's going to be held at Bureau headquarters. The SAC is flying up for it, and he's not happy. As I thought, he didn't know we were here in Washington. When he did find out, it was during the takedown. Ramona says the SAC told her he would never have given you authorization to take the lead for the Atlanta office. Seems the Washington office assumed you were the SAC's rep since you were here."

  Eli took a long drink then lowered the bottle. "It's not our fault they made that assumption."

  "You didn't try very hard to refuse the lead, Tanner. And as I remember, you volunteered to take over as AIC. You'd better be prepared, is all I'm saying. Might drink a cup of humility before seeing the SAC. And by the way, the deputy director of the Bureau is going to be at the meeting along with the Bureau's public affairs officer. The press broke the story this morning. They've got it wrong, but they have enough that it's headlines. It's gotten big, Tanner, real big."

  Eli took another sip of beer and set the bottle down. He shook his head. "I have the feeling we'll be back in Columbus by nightfall. At least we tried--we had to try."

  Ashley wanted to say she was sorry, but he was walking toward the bathroom as if in a stupor. She closed the door quietly behind her.

  Chapter 14.

  8:20 A. M. Leesburg, Virginia.

  The driver of the white 560SL Mercedes slowed as he entered the outskirts of the small community of Leesburg.

  Seated behind the driver in the backseat, wearing a dark gray Armani suit, thirty-six-year-old Peter Wong put aside the copy of the Wall Street Journal and adjusted the knot of his silk tie.

  Turning slightly and raising his chin, he glanced at the passenger seated beside him.

  "Does the knot look straight to you?"

  Donna Chu, Wong's personal assistant, lifted her eyes from the laptop computer on her knees. "It looks fine, but I would have thought a former assistant U. S. district attorney would be beyond worrying how he looked when he met these two."

  Peter smiled. "Worrying is what I do best. But it's not the knot I'm worrying about. Thankfully, within a year or two such meetings won't be necessary."

  Donna folded down her laptop's screen and pinned him with a searching stare. "Do you really believe we can divest ourselves of the old ways?"

  Peter Wong inspected his cuffs. "I would not have taken this position if I had not believed it possible. The men we are to meet are garbage. I detest dealing with such people."

  "The stories about them are true?"

  He looked at her. "What have you heard?"

  "Peter, I've attended the same meetings you have. The elders believe me deaf and dumb and speak among themselves as if I don't exist. I hear things."

  "Be very careful. What is said by the elders is-"

  "I'm family, Peter, don't tell me what I already know. I have lived with it all my life. I know what your meeting is about, and I know what these men do. Just tell me if the stories about them are true. I heard they are Cambodian and years ago came to Hong Kong in an old fishing trawler filled with refugees."

  Peter Wong sighed and leaned back in his seat "It seems you have listened too well. . . . Yes, they did arrive in a trawler, but most in the craft were dead from starvation or exposure."

  "And it's true that they lived in a garbage dump?"

  "Yes, but only for a short time. Like most refugees who were not deported, they had to find ways to survive . . . but these two made survival an art form. They organized scum like themselves, becoming thieves and, for a price, murdere
rs.

  They became so successful they began to compete with a member of the family. Of course, the family member took action to eliminate his new competitors, but found them very formidable. Unlike others who had risen from the slums, these the family member had great difficulty in eradicating. So much so that his losses did not justify the expense. An elder stepped in with the solution. Rather than fight such tenacious foes, the elder brought them into the organization."

  "I have heard they are the best at what they do," Donna said.

  "Quite true. They have been providing services for the organization for a number of years wherever the organization's interests require them. As you know, a year ago they arrived in the States to work for your uncle. But they were also doing independent work on the side. That work has required us to bring others in they requested . . . more men of the same low sort. They also received technical assistance from us that could jeopardize all we have done to keep our intelligence capabilities unknown to the authorities."

  Donna's eyes widened. "They threaten us?"

  "Not as yet," Peter said, patting her hand. "Their work is almost complete, I believe. They requested and received information just today from us that required extensive work on the part of our intelligence network. Today in the meeting I will make it clear we can no longer take such risks."

  "It bothers me, Peter, that we have need of such men. And it bothers me that you are the one who must deal with them."

  Peter forced a smile of reassurance. "Do not concern yourself. I've been told the old one is quite ill and the young one just returned from his work only last night. They should want to leave as soon as possible." He glanced out the window and saw they had already passed through the town. He patted her hand again. "We are almost there. Please call the estate and let them know we are approaching; security will need to open the gate. I remind you, you must stay in the car. If you were to see these men, it would violate security."

  Donna Chu removed the phone handset from the console in front of her and began pressing the keys. She looked out the window just as the driver pulled off the highway onto a tarmac driveway flanked by rolling green pastureland framed by stands of majestic hundred-year-old trees. On a hill in the distance she saw a magnificent limestone mansion that had withstood northern Virginia's weather for over two hundred years.

  She wondered if the current tenants appreciated the beauty and history of the estate. She would have thought their kind would prefer a more modern building with all the latest gadgets and tacky appointments. The tenants were, after all, nothing but garbage men.

  On the ground-floor veranda, Jean Paul Devoe stood at the railing looking down the grassy slope toward the Potomac River. He lowered his head and pinched the bridge of his nose as if in pain.

  From his chair, fifty-six-year-old Quan Tram spoke in a rasp.

  "All is ready, little one. Our squads have the targets spotted for us."

  A young man stepped out onto the veranda and bowed. "Sir, Mr. Peter Wong has arrived."

  Jean Paul dipped his chin. "Escort him here, please."

  The young Chinese servant bowed again and quickly departed.

  Tram leaned back, resting his head on a pillow. "He has come to voice concerns. It would not be wise for you to mention our unfinished business with the others."

  Jean Paul nodded and turned just as Peter Wong walked through the doorway and approached with a smile. "So good to see you again, Mr. Devoe. I trust you have recovered from your travels? Mr. Tram, I'm happy to see you as well. Are you feeling better?"

  Jean Paul motioned to a chair. "We can dispense with the formalities and idle chat, Peter. Neither of us regards the old customs as practical. You asked for this meeting for a reason.

  What is it?'

  Peter sighed as he took his seat "Very well, I will get to the point. Since their arrival in this country, my superiors have taken great pains to stay in the shadows and not be exposed to the scrutiny of the authorities. Due to recent events brought on by your activities, the FBI is on a very ambitious manhunt. We know this, of course, because we have informants in their headquarters. The fact that four of our people are dead and one is under arrest and in a hospital is also of concern to us. Our agreement to support you in your independent work was based on your assurances that there would be no complications. That the FBI is conducting a search for you does constitute a complication. I understand that you believe you have a duty that requires accomplishment but such dedication cannot jeopardize the Organization. My superiors ask that you cease your work and leave as soon as possible for the benefit of us all."

  Jean Paul's jaw tightened as he looked into the lawyer's eyes. "Peter, please remind your superiors the reason their businesses are legitimate and profitable is because our unit assisted in eliminating their major competitors. Remind them, too, I have an uncle, a very influential uncle who lifted Tram and I from the gutters of Hong Kong and brought us into his family. Tram and I have repaid my uncle with our services, from which the Organization has greatly benefited. My uncle knew of my sorrow and always understood that one day I would take my vengeance on those who dishonored themselves. You said a minute ago it was my 'duty.' No, Peter, it is not perceived, it is my duty. Tell your superiors my uncle understands my duty must be accomplished. He granted me permission to find them and I will finish my work and you and your superiors will continue to assist me."

  Peter pursed his lips. "In this country we would say you're playing hardball. You know as well as I do your uncle is financing our operations. We can't refuse you, but at least understand our concerns. Your business is of no concern to us, but if you dirty us in the process you will dirty your uncle as well. I suggest you think about that. You are unquestionably a loyal servant and he regards you highly, but you are not family, Mr. Devoe. My superiors will voice their concerns to your uncle, I can assure you. Until we receive communication from him, we will continue to help you and in fact already have by finding where your escaped soldier was taken. I only ask that you finish your business and leave as quickly as possible."

  Jean Paul dipped his chin. "I will finish my work within a week. Does that satisfy you?"

  Peter Wong stood. "A week is acceptable."

  Jean Paul inclined his head slightly. "The servants will see you out, Peter."

  Quan Train shook his head as soon as the lawyer departed.

  "I cannot stomach his kind. They smell of flowers and have never toiled under the sun. He site here telling you not to complicate matters, and yet six months ago he thought nothing of asking us to eliminate the California scientist and his staff."

  Devoe walked to the rail and once again looked out at the meandering river. "His kind have been very profitable to us, old friend. We who have been loyal and have been willing to soil our hands have achieved what we have always wanted the opportunity to see justice done." Jean Paul walked to Tram and helped him to his feet. "Come, it is time for you to teach suffering."

  .

  9:10 A. M. FBI Headquarters, Washington, D. C.

  Eli sat beside Ashley at the far end of a large table filled with agents and staff. At the opposite end sat the deputy director, in a dark blue pinstripe suit. Short and bald, the Bureau's number two man looked to Eli like a well-dressed Yoda, of Star Wars.

  Of course, he didn't have the funny ears, but otherwise he was a dead ringer. Seated to Yoda's left was Don Farrel, the Atlanta SAC. Eli had purposely avoided Farrel by arriving just before the meeting started. The one surprise at the table was Ramona Valez, who had flown in with the SAC and George Polous, alongside whom she was seated.

  Eli had tuned out the agent who was briefing, but tuned in again as he asked for the next computer-generated slide, which was projected up to a wall screen.

  ". . and this, Deputy Director, is a summary list of on-going areas of investigation concerning the case. I point out the last one first. The bodies found in the ruins of the farmhouse, and the body of the suspect shot by the sniper, were all of Asian extracti
on, Chinese, to be exact, as was the apprehended suspect. Although the suspect has refused to speak, evidence found in the debris and on their persons indicate all the men are Cantonese Chinese.

  "The Blazer at the farmhouse has been identified as a Hertz rental from the National Airport. The vehicle was rented in the name of a firm called the Jade Sun Company. It is a small computer software company whose main headquarters is in Hong Kong. They have two sales offices here in the United States, one in the Washington area, in Springfield, and one in Los Angeles. Agents have talked to the president of the Springfield office as well as the personnel manager. Both deny having any knowledge of the suspects, the Blazer, or the credit card used for renting the vehicle."