Austin stared at Phelps, thinking that the man was full of surprises.
“Tell me, Phelps,” he said, “do you have a first name?”
“Don’t believe in them,” Phelps said.
“Well, here’s the problem,” Austin said with a heavy smile.
“You killed that man in the commission of a crime, the hijacking of U.S. property and the missile attack on the support ship. You’re lucky no one died on the Proud Mary. Then there’s the death of the security-company man who got your ID.”
“The missile attack was meant to distract the guards long enough to steal the lab,” Phelps said. “I’ll admit someone could have been killed, but I’m glad that didn’t happen. I had no part in the security man’s death . . . But I see what you mean.”
“Glad to hear that you understand the situation,” Austin said. “I’m going to have to turn you over to the authorities when we land. I’ll tell them the whole story, and that’s sure to mitigate your punishment.”
“Ten years in the brig instead of twenty?” Phelps grinned. “Well, sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do. Mind if I go tell Lois what’s happening?”
Austin couldn’t help admiring the man’s calm. He nodded, then rose from his chair. They left the salon, and a few minutes later were in a pontoon boat headed back to the Concord.
Lois Mitchell was waiting there for them. Phelps peeled Lois away from the others, and they went off to talk while Austin and Zavala went to the wardroom to meet with the captain and the scientists from the lab.
Dixon brought everyone up to date on the progress of the jet flying to China. It would be close, but the vaccine would make it there in time.
Austin glanced at his watch. He excused himself and went out on the deck. He asked several crewmen if they had seen Phelps and Mitchell, and he finally got an answer when one of them pointed toward shore.
“They took the inflatable into port,” the crewman informed Austin. “They said they would be back in a couple of hours. Guy said to give this to you.”
Austin unfolded the sheet of lined notebook paper and read the short, scrawled message:
“Gotta do what you gotta do. P.”
An annoyed smile came to Austin’s lips. Phelps had outfoxed him.
Austin walked over to the railing and looked toward Pohnpei. Kolonia was small town on a small island, but the local police department wasn’t exactly Interpol. Phelps would be far away by the time local police mobilized.
Austin climbed to the bridge at a very leisurely pace, and asked a crewman to call the police, report a stolen launch, and give them a description of Mitchell and Phelps.
He took solace in the fact that Chang was dead. His attempt to spread the virus had been foiled. The vaccine would soon be made available.
One Triad triplet had been eliminated, but that still left Wen Lo and the mysterious Dragon Lady.
Austin was still pondering his course of action when his cell phone rang. It was Lieutenant Casey.
“Congratulations, Kurt,” Casey said, “the admiral just called and gave me the good news.”
“Thanks, Lieutenant, but our work isn’t done as long as the other Triad triplets are on the loose.”
“We’re well aware of that, Kurt. I have someone on the line who would like to talk to you.”
Austin told Casey to transfer him. A few seconds later, a man’s voice came on the line.
“Good day, Mr. Austin,” he said in a silken tone. “Let me introduce myself. I am Colonel Ming of the People’s Liberation Army.”
“Good day, Colonel Ming. How can I help you?”
“That is not why I called, Mr. Austin. The question is, how can I help you?”
CHAPTER 47
WEN LO EMERGED FROM HIS FAVORITE NIGHTCLUB WITH A gorgeous prostitute clinging to each arm. His walk was unsteady, but the Triad triplet wasn’t too drunk to see that something was very wrong. His guards were gone. The two SUVs that escorted his armor-plated Mercedes everywhere were gone. His Mercedes was gone, and a black Roewe sedan had taken its place at the curb.
Standing on the sidewalk next to the car was a husky, granite-faced man in a dark blue suit. He opened the Roewe’s rear door and motioned for Wen Lo to get in.
Wen Lo looked up and down the street, as if he could make his guards and car reappear through sheer willpower. No pedestrians or traffic moved in either direction. The street obviously had been cordoned off.
Wen Lo dispensed the prostitutes with a shove and a brusque word and got in the Roewe. The husky man shut the door and slid in front next to the driver. As the car pulled away from the curb, a slender man in an Army uniform sitting in the backseat, said, “Good evening, Wen Lo. My apologies for spoiling your night out on the town.”
“Good evening, Colonel Ming. No apologies necessary. It is always a pleasure to see you, my friend.”
In this case, it was more of a relief than a pleasure. Colonel Ming was the liaison between the Army and the Triad, and both organizations profited handsomely from the hundreds of brothels that they jointly operated around the country.
“The feeling is mutual, of course,” said the colonel, a soft-spoken man whose patrician air seemed more suited to the diplomatic corps than the Army.
Wen Lo always trod carefully around Ming. He was not unmindful of the fact that the colonel’s comrades had nicknamed him Colonel Cobra.
“I must say that I was concerned when I saw my men were not at their posts and my car was gone,” Wen Lo said.
“Rest assured, they are in a safe place,” Ming said. “I thought it best not to have any distractions while we talked over a serious problem that has arisen.”
“Of course,” Wen Lo said. “What sort of problem? Are you looking for a more luxurious apartment . . . or car? . . . Or is there someone that you would like removed from the scene?”
“This is not personal,” Ming said. “This is business. The problem is in Pyramid’s pharmaceutical division.”
“That puzzles me, Colonel. The contaminated drugs have been destroyed. The poisoned infant formula killed only a few hundred children.”
“Perhaps this will explain the problem better than I can,” Ming said.
Colonel Ming stretched his hand out to a DVD player built into the back of the driver’s seat and pushed the ON button.
Wen Lo’s face appeared on the screen. He watched himself taking a tour of the secret lab with Dr. Wu, whose voice was narrating, and close-ups of the subjects and their disease-ravaged faces.
“Where did you get this?” Wen Lo asked as the video came to its end.
“That is of no importance,” Ming said. “But I am puzzled as to the nature of this facility your organization is operating.”
The colonel was being disingenuous. The video was quite detailed in its presentation.
Wen Lo glanced at the men in the front seat. Speaking in a conspiratorial whisper, he said, “I am taking you into my confidence, Colonel. The secret I am about to reveal is held by me and a few of the most powerful people in the government. The laboratory has been working on a revolutionary new vaccine that will not only contain a new outbreak of SARS but will cure dozens of other diseases caused by viruses.”
Colonel Ming lightly clapped his hands.
“That is wonderful news, Wen Lo! Congratulations.”
“Thank you, Colonel. It has been a long, hard road, but our work will put China in the medical history books. This will be a boon to mankind. And to the Army, I might add. You and your comrades will derive great benefits from our endeavors.”
“Excellent!” The colonel paused for a moment, then said, “I am not a medical person, but, since you mentioned mankind, I wondered if it is customary to use human beings as lab animals.”
“Pardon me, sir, but they would be very upset to be described in that fashion. They are all volunteers from the slums. They faced miserable lives, in any case.”
The colonel nodded.
“Yes, I see your logic, Wen Lo. Your lab served to shorten their misery. I applaud your humanity and your genius.”