Gold Sharks (16 page)

“Right, we have what we were contracted to do. You go back. I'm going to follow these two for a while, see if I can get a better idea of who the other bloke is. Might be worth a bonus for us!” He emerged from the shadow. “I'll call you, OK?” he dismissed the short man and crossed the road.

‘That bloke is going to have to go,' he admitted to himself, looking back to ensure that the man had left -but the street was empty. Pleased to be rid of him, the taller man discreetly followed his quarry to Ling's apartment block, where he managed a couple more infrared exposures and then slipped away, confident that he had at least one good picture.

w

The sign on the modest door read General Agents. The building was situated on a street running parallel to the waterfront. A smartly dressed businessman entered and went upstairs to his office. It was large and lavishly furnished; his male secretary had already prepared the daily batch of post and important papers. The businessman nodded a perfunctory good morning.

“Good morning Sir. No urgent calls. You have one meeting at ten o'clock here in the boardroom.”

The man nodded again and the secretary respectfully left the room.

He'd been scanning the mail for about five minutes when his direct line rang; he let it ring three times. It stopped and a few seconds later it rang again. Although he should have been accustomed to the call, even after five years the Syndicate's simple code always made his blood run cold, he shivered involuntarily as he reached across to the handset.

“Good morning,” he addressed the mouthpiece.

“When you called last night to tell me that you had secured the information, you didn't tell me that your man had massacred the couple in what is being described as a ritualistic murder!” the voice snapped, and then waited for a reply.

The businessman's mouth went dry. His tongue seemed to be stuck to the roof of his pallet; it seemed to be ages before he eventually formed the words,

“What do you mean? My man reported the he had successfully obtained the information!” He trembled as he tried to retain his composure.

“We don't mind if people have to be eliminated but we do not like to draw attention to ourselves!” came the frigid response.

“The man told us that he was checking on the warehouse lease at the request of his brother - Ling something or other. They're looking for this Ling bloke now - what's wrong with that?” he spat defiantly, his confidence returning with the saliva in his mouth.

“You fool. Your man left a note nailed to the woman's decapitated head! We start with the wives and children written in blood!” He voice paused. “Just where did you find him?”

“I told you - I had them on loan from that warlord we're shipping some of the arms to.”

“Well I've had a very angry call about it, together with strict orders to ensure that, whoever they are, they must be taken out immediately. So, your task is simple: we want this Ling and his unidentified companion, together with those two maniacs dealt with immediately. Is that understood? By the way have you identified Ling's companion yet?”

“I'm waiting for the photos to be enhanced. They were not very clear. All we can tell at this time is that he's European. I hope to know more in an hour or so.”

“Well it would help if you produced something quickly, don't you think?” The voice paused. “Either way, I recommend that you see that those two animals at least are dealt with now, then as soon as we know who the other man is, we can go to the next stage. You got that?” The voice did not wait for a reply. The line went dead.

The businessman replaced the receiver; in spite of the air conditioning, perspiration ran freely down his furrowed brow. He wiped his face with a large handkerchief then picked up the telephone again, consulting a notebook with his other hand. He selected a number and dialled. The call was answered after a few seconds.

“I have a job for you. Urgent. Extremely urgent. The usual place in thirty minutes please,” he said and replaced the receiver.

His face was drawn as he visualised the scene he'd just had described to him. Getting up from the desk, he made towards the door.

“My God, what have they done?” he said aloud to the empty room, closing the door as he left.

The man he had arranged to meet was in his late fifties, of medium height and inconspicuous in his appearance. In fact, he looked very much like an ordinary innocent tourist. The businessman pulled up a chair at the café table and sat down. He did not greet the man already sitting at there in any kind of formal way.

“I have a rather delicate job for you.” He passed over a photo. “Know these two?”

The man looked up sharply.

“You're dammed right I do. That's Franco Ebola's two top hit men. What's the problem?”

“We used them for a job and they broke the rules. They have to be removed. I know that's going to be a problem for you but I've had approval for double your usual fee. In all our interests, it should look as though they were caught in the act and we'd like these men to be seen as their executioners. Can you manage that?” He passed over another photograph.

“We don't know this one on the right - but this one is Ling Po.” The businessman stabbed the photograph with his finely manicured finger. “He is a small time British Government agent. I have some addresses etcetera.” He looked at the man in anticipation. “I'll have the name of the other one soon; so what do you think?”

The man was silent for a while. “Double the fee eh?” he smiled greedily. “Must be important then?”

“Yes but don't get too greedy. You know how sensitive my master's about that sort of thing!”

The man raised his hand.

“Don't panic - just joking! Double will be quite acceptable,” he soothed the businessman. “What's the time scale?”

“This one is most urgent!” The businessman tapped the men's picture.

“To set this up right, I'm going to need at least forty-eight hours.”

“Alright but no longer.” The businessman man waved a piece of paper. “The addresses.” He passed it to the man and turned to leave but suddenly stopped, turned and faced the man, blurting out in uncharacteristic anger. “And in case you want to know why, they cut a woman's head off and nailed a message to it.” He shook his head, still finding the act hard to believe and then walked briskly back to his office; his direct telephone was ringing as he entered the room and he grabbed the handset.

“Yes?” he addressed the instrument. He listened. “Ah good you received the photos. Was the other man recognised?”

“No,” the caller replied, “but I've sent them on for further examination. Have you organised anything re those maniacs yet?”

“It's all in hand,” the businessman was pleased to be able to confirm.

“Good - and I'll need confirmation the minute it's completed,” was the firm reply; the voice did not wait for an acknowledgment. The line went dead.

f

Alex made two more mobile calls as he backtracked from the main road looking for the café in the old dock area. When he eventually found the place, it looked even scruffier in the daylight than it had before. He stepped cautiously through the open entrance and was surprised to find that it was cool, fresh and spotlessly clean inside. Two men sat huddled in conversation at a table in one corner; they were the only customers. The youngish woman behind the low counter looked up from wiping a copper water boiler.

“Good morning,” she welcomed him politely in English.

“And a very good morning to you,” Alex replied cheerfully. “A large breakfast tea and some toast please.” He chose a chair at one of the tables on the opposite side to the two men.

“Sure thing,” the girl confirmed and vanished into the kitchen at the rear; four or five minutes later she reappeared carrying a tray with a plate of homemade rye bread. It had been cut into thick slices and freshly toasted - a pat of butter, some milk, sugar and a covered stone pot completed the offering. She placed the tray on his table.

“I'll be right back with the tea,” she said, scurried behind the counter and reappeared with a teapot and mug.

“That looks fantastic,” he congratulated her. “What's in the pot?” He peered at the contents.

“Honey,” she smiled, “it is very good for you! So eat your toast now, while it's still hot!” she ordered, walking back towards the counter.

“OK, OK” Alex submitted happily. “But before you go, I have to get a message to my friend Old Ming-Ho. Do you know where to find him?” She turned to look at him, as did the two men.

The smile had gone now.

“What do you want with Ming-Ho?” she asked curtly.

The two men appeared to return to their own conversation.

“Oh, he's helping me to find some people. Do you know where he is then?” As he spoke, Alex casually buttered a piece of the toast then spread a large spoon of the thick honey onto it. He studied the masterpiece for a moment then, apparently satisfied with his preparation, took a bite and munched noisily. He smiled slightly as his taste buds signalled that it was delicious.

The woman, hands on hips, watched and waited in anticipation.

Alex savoured the mouthful for a moment.

“That's the best breakfast toast and honey I've ever had in my life!” he declared honestly.

The woman relaxed then took a step closer.

“Old Ming-Ho, yes I know him and who are you?”

Surprised by the woman's forthright attitude, Alex was reminded of his own wife Rosie.

“My name is Alex,” he smiled and continued with his toast.

Without saying another word, the woman turned away, walked behind the counter and vanished into the kitchens.

Alex finished his breakfast and he was swallowing the last of his tea and wondering if his message had got through, when Ming walked into the café and went straight to where Alex was sitting.

“So soon my friend?” He shook hands and then pulled up another chair.

“Can we talk here?” Alex whispered. He couldn't see the woman but the two men were still seated on the other side of the room.

“It's safer here than anywhere else I assure you,” the old man smiled.

“OK then and thank you again for your help last night - this morning in fact!” He rubbed his unshaved chin, realising that he hadn't had any sleep. “You will remember, I told you that it's my job to prevent those arms and ammunition from being delivered. Well I think I know how to do it and need your help.” He looked at Ming-Ho for a reaction to the suggestion. The man's face remained expressionless.

“I think you better tell me exactly who you work for and who the arms belong to. Then I can decide which side I want to be on,” he replied dispassionately.

Alex was surprised by his reaction; this was no longer the meek old pauper scratching for his lost belongings.

“It's is enough that you know I work for the an organisation attached to the United Nations, OK? The more I tell you, the deeper you become embroiled in the problem. I don't want you facing the sort of abuse Ling, the guy with me last night, has just endured.” He told the old man about David and the brutal murder of his wife. He went on to tell him where the arms were destined and their potential destructive capability in the hands of the terrorists.

When he finished, Ming looked up.

“These murderers sound a bit like the people we have to deal with ourselves. There are many criminals here also you know. Many hide behind their uniforms and use the state to their own advantage.” He looked at Alex for a moment longer. “Yes we will help you. Those munitions must not get to their destination!”

“Thank you,” Alex acknowledged, clearly relieved. As he looked up, the woman was standing at the counter and the two men were leaning forward in their chairs, obviously listening to their conversation. He looked back at the old man in alarm.

Ming laughed.

“You better start by meeting my family.” He pointed to the men.

“My nephews.”

They saluted and grinned back. Ming swung around and pointed to the woman.

“My daughter!”

She remained straight-faced with her arms folded.

“She's the boss really!”

Alex was delighted.

“Well my friends let me tell you what I had in mind.”

They gathered around.

As a first priority, Alex needed to disable the cargo vessel enough to delay its departure. It was important however that they complete loading of the munitions first and then somehow they must delay the departure of the ship. This was necessary, Alex explained, because if he was going to get the cooperation of Big J and his team to sink the vessel at sea he would have to allow them enough time to complete the training contract.

Alex's idea to delay the cargo vessel was quite ingenious. The plan was to tangle the vessel's shaft and propeller in some sort of underwater obstruction as it pulled away from the quay. The trick was to ensure that any damage would be severe enough to warrant that the boat be dry-docked.

Ideally, he wanted Ming to locate some heavy fishing rope or chains, which would somehow have to be positioned in the water near the aft end of the ship, so that it jammed the stern gear as the vessel manoeuvred from the quay.

“If you can locate some old trawl chains and get them to the harbour, I will see that they are attached below the water.” Alex looked at his audience. “The other thing you need to know is that once she is at sea, I intend to sink the ship in deep water. That probably means killing all her crew!” He looked again at each member of his audience but detected no emotion. “The weak link at the moment is how we're going to sink the vessel. I am trying to obtain some special limpet mines but it is not easy to get things like that into Hong Kong.” He raised his eyebrows. “The other way, if were not happy about killing all the crew, is of course to scuttle the ship but that means having to take her over first.” He looked again at the listeners but there was still no reaction. “When the ship is dry docked for repair, the crew will probably have to be accommodated ashore. This gives us the chance to check them out. See if they are genuine seamen or Syndicate men!”