“Yeah, it was pretty funny. He was like an eager teenager.”
“What kind of work did he do?” Gideon asked.
“He made it seem all deep and dark sounding, something to do with electricity. Never even mentioned his real business was ripping off Australia.”
“Electricity?” Gideon popped a second split.
“Well, I think that’s what he said, electricity or maybe electrons or something like that. Hinted around that it was going to change everything, China was going take over the world. He got pretty drunk, wasn’t making a lot of sense.”
“Were the Australians who hired you happy with the information?”
“They were more interested in getting it all on videotape. They were going to force him to give back their technology.”
“What kind of technology?”
Gerta took a deep swig of champagne. “They wouldn’t tell me. Secret.”
“This all took place in his room?”
“Oh yeah. I never engage my own room.”
“Did you notice if he had a laptop with him? Or a portable hard drive?”
She paused and looked at him. “No. Why?”
Gideon realized he might be pushing it too far. “Just curious. You said he was a scientist — I was thinking maybe the stolen technology might have been in the room.”
“Maybe. I didn’t notice. The room was very neat, everything put away.”
He decided to push it once more. “Did he say anything about a secret weapon?”
“Secret weapon? No, just a lot of talk about China dominating the world, the usual bragging. I get that a lot from Chinese businessmen. They all think in ten, twenty years China’s gonna bury the rest of us.”
“What else did he say?”
“Not much. Once it was over, he suddenly got really paranoid, looked around the room for bugs, was afraid for me to leave. He sobered up real quick. It was kind of scary, actually, how freaked out he got.”
“And they paid you ten thousand?”
“Five up front, five afterward.”
“Australians, you said?”
“Right. And from Sydney, where I’m from. It was nice to meet some mates from Oz.”
Gideon nodded. The CIA was cleverer than he thought.
“And then,” she went on, with a laugh, spilling a bit of champagne, “there was the guy a couple of years ago wanted to bring his pet monkey. Ugh. Monkeys are nasty beasts, and I mean nasty! You won’t believe what he wanted…”
She eventually fell asleep on top of the covers, snoring softly. Gideon carefully tucked her in on one side, then climbed in the other, his own head whirling from the martinis, wine, and champagne.
34
They arrived about eight in the morning, dressed in blue suits like a group of Hong Kong real estate developers, unlocking the door with their own key and filing into the room. They stood around politely as their leader spoke.
“Mr. Gideon Crew?”
Gideon sat up in bed, his head pounding. “Um, yes?” This was not good.
“Please come with us.”
He stared. The girl, Gerta, was still sleeping soundly next to him. “No, thanks.”
The two men flanking the leader casually removed identical nine-millimeter Beretta pistols, letting them dangle.
“Let us please not have trouble. This is a nice hotel.”
“May I get dressed?”
“Please.”
He got out of bed, all the men staring at him, trying to shake off his hangover and getting up to speed on his situation. He hoped Gerta wouldn’t wake up. That would add an element of unpredictability. He had to think of something fast. Once they got him into a car, it would be all over.
“May I shower first?”
“No.”
Gideon moved to dress in the walk-in closet.
“Take your clothes out and dress here.”
Slowly, thinking all the while, he pulled on the four-thousand-dollar suit and shoes, tie, the works. After spending all that money, he was loath to lose the clothes.
“Walk with us.” They closed around him in a tight group. The guns disappeared as they moved out the door and into the corridor. They all got into a waiting elevator. Gideon’s mind was running like mad, but he could come up with nothing. Make a scene in the lobby? Start screaming like a madman? Say he was being kidnapped? Run for it? As he played out every scenario, one way or another he ended up either shot or hustled off. The problem was, these men would surely have a better story than his. And official identification. He couldn’t win.
The elevator arrived at the lobby level, the doors whispered open, and they stepped into the marbled space. At the far end of the lobby, beyond the wall of glass looking onto the entrance, he could see three black SUVs pulled up in a row, guarded by several additional men in blue suits. His escorts prodded him forward, moving fast.
What if he broke and ran? Would they shoot him? Even if he escaped, where would he go? He knew no one in Hong Kong and had only about two thousand dollars left: chump change around here. They would flag him before he left the country. And he’d been forced to travel under his own name: you couldn’t get a fake passport these days.
They shoved him toward the door, toward the trio of idling, black SUVs.
35
Hey!”
He heard a shout from across the lobby and saw a woman charging toward them. Mindy Jackson. She had her CIA wallet out, held open in front of her outstretched arm like a battering ram. “You there! Halt!”
The voice was so loud it brought everyone in the echoing lobby to a standstill.
She busted into the group like a bowling ball into a set of pins, pushing Gideon to one side. Then she wheeled about and shouted at them again. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? I’m CIA assistant bureau chief here and this is my colleague. He’s got diplomatic immunity! How dare you disrespect diplomatic status!” She seized Gideon and yanked him toward the door.
Half a dozen handguns were immediately out, pointing at her. “You go nowhere!” the lead man shouted, advancing toward her.
Her own weapon came out in a flash, an S&W.38 chief’s special. There were sudden screams in the lobby as the guns were drawn, people ducking behind chairs and vases. “Oh yeah?” she cried. “You want a shootout with the CIA right here, right now? Come on! Think of the promotion you’ll get for shooting up the lobby of the Tai Tam Hotel!”
As she spoke at high volume, her voice ringing out, she continued hauling Gideon toward the door. The men seemed frozen as the two barged through an emergency exit, where she shoved him into the backseat of a waiting Crown Victoria. She got in behind him and slammed the door and the car screeched from the curb, leaving the group of blue-suited Chinese running to their SUVs.
“Motherfucker,” she said, shoving the S&W back into a shoulder holster and leaning back in the seat with a sigh. “Motherfucker. What the hell do you think you’re doing here?”
“I owe you thanks—”
“Thanks? You owe me your life. I can’t believe you walked your ass right into the lion’s den like this. Are you crazy?”
Gideon had to admit it seemed, in retrospect, a foolish decision.
She glanced back. “And now they’re following.”
“Where are we going?”
“Airport.”
“They’re going to stop us from leaving the country.”
“They’re confused. They’re asking for instructions. It all depends on how fast the intelligence bureaucracy can get their shit together. You know how to handle a handgun?”
“Yes.”
She pulled a.32 Walther from her waistband and handed it to him with an extra loaded magazine. “Whatever you do, for God’s sake don’t shoot anybody. Follow my instructions.”