With Toni Contardo gone, he could only trust Jake Adams, who had countless contacts in Europe. And the man was incorruptible. He would always do the right thing regardless of where the facts led him.
Kurt finished the last of his Scotch, got up from the floor, and took a seat behind his cherry desk. Before he made the call, he filled his highball glass half way again and took a small sip. Then he punched in Jake’s number and waited.
Jake’s phone buzzed and he checked to see who was calling. He thought it might have been Alexandra, but then realized she would probably still be en route.
Since he was already sitting in an isolated area of the airport, Jake took the call and said, “Kurt. What’s up. I take it you got the files I sent you.”
“Unfortunately. Where are you?”
“Hong Kong airport.”
“You were able to get out of Taiwan. Good. How’d you manage that? Never mind.” Kurt explained what he had found with the German files and what little he knew about the Chinese files from Taiwan.
“This shouldn’t be such a huge surprise,” Jake said. “The defense companies have been sucking off the teat of government since our founding. They rely on conflict.”
“I understand that, Jake, but this could be more insidious. I’ve been analyzing this data for hours—”
“Are you drinking Scotch?” Jake asked his old friend.
“What do you think?”
“I think you retired too soon. That’s what I think. You’re only like sixty-five, right?”
“You asshole. I’m fifty-five.”
Jake laughed. “I asked you to go with me to Costa Rica bone fishing. You should have taken me up on the offer.”
“Is that even a real fish?” Kurt asked.
“I assure you it is. They call them bone fish because you get a boner when you catch one.”
“Seriously?”
“I just made that up,” Jake said. “So, what did you find out about the Taiwanese banking files?”
Kurt hesitated and Jake guessed his friend was drinking more Scotch. Finally Kurt said, “I found the money transfer you had found for Bill Remington, but that was just the tip of the iceberg.” He went on to explain all the other transfers to various accounts around the world, and especially to those tax haven states.
Jake gave a little whistle. “Wow. Do you still have access to the Agency computers?”
“Not really.”
“Would you like access?” Jake asked with a slight chuckle.
“How do you…never mind. That might send up a flag somewhere. It’s better that we know before those who have taken money know we know.”
“Good point. So we need to do this off books.”
“What’s this we shit?”
“Come on, Kurt. You know you’re bored stiff. I’m sure you don’t mind a little investigation. You still remember how to do that, right?”
“Bite me.”
Jake glanced around the airport terminal, and a Chinese man had just sat down a little too close to him. “Gotta go.”
“Wait. Is there anything I can do to help you?”
He thought for a moment and then said softly, “Yeah. Two untraceable Austrian nines with plenty of extra punch. Preferably from someone at my next location who hated our old friend.”
“I’ll work on that,” Kurt said.
Then Jake turned off his phone and stuck it into his pocket. He checked his watch and saw that his flight to Singapore would be boarding in a few minutes. He also thought about how long Kurt had been analyzing the files Jake had sent his old friend. Wow, the man had to really be bored to find out what he did in such a short period of time.
Jake got on a plane from Hong Kong to Singapore using his Austrian passport. Once he got to Singapore he would use his Canadian passport to check into his hotel.
The Asian man pulled out his phone after the man left his chair and headed down the concourse.
Shangwei answered on the first ring. “Did you find our man?”
“Yes, sir. I believe so. There are not a lot of single western men with his description who recently flew in on a chartered business plane from Taiwan.”
“How many could there be?”
“Just one. But this man has short hair.”
“Hang on. I just sent you a text with a photo from the security camera at the business terminal in Taipei.”
He turned his phone and waited for the text to come in. Although the photo wasn’t exactly clear, it was better than the useless photo from the Shilin Night Market taken by that concerned citizen. Without a doubt it was the man he had just sat next to.
“That’s him, sir.”
“Great. Keep your distance. He’s extremely dangerous.”
“I understand.”
“Do you know where he’s going?”
“Yes, sir. He’s getting ready to board a plane to Singapore. Should I follow him?”
“No. I’ve got that covered. Thanks.”
The Asian man shrugged and stuck his phone back in his pocket. A hundred U.S. dollars for that? He wished he worked for Shangwei every day. He got up and wandered back down the concourse, dropping his unused one-way ticket to Guangzhou, China in the garbage can, a small price to pay for access to the secure area.
8
The island city-state of the Republic of Singapore sat at the southern end of the Malay Peninsula. Its position so close to the Equator gave it a constant temperature near ninety degrees, a sweltering heat that made it impossible to keep a shirt dry. Jake had been to Singapore a number of times, mostly just passing through on his way to another mission, and he found that the only change in the city was with the skyline. In fact, to Jake the place could have been anywhere in the world. It was just another big city with a diverse population of Chinese, Malaysians, Indians and European and American ex-pats. He knew that Singapore was one of the most important centers of business in the world. Most international companies had a Singapore office.
Jake had gotten off his flight from Hong Kong and took a taxi to the Marina Bay Sands Hotel and Casino. This hotel was one of the most unique places Jake had ever seen — three fifty-five story buildings topped off by what looked like a cross between an airplane fuselage and a snake.
As the taxi pulled up to this monstrous structure, the sun had already set and the building was lit up like a Vegas strip hotel. On the drive Jake had switched passports from Austrian to Canadian again. He got out and slung his backpack over one shoulder, confounding the bell captain at the door, who relied on tips for much of their income. Jake tipped the guys to go away and let him carry his own damn bag.
The front desk had a line of some of the most beautiful women Jake had ever seen, all eager with smiles to check him in.
“Before you assign me a room,” Jake said. “Please check to see if my wife has already checked in.”
The pretty young woman asked, “What is her name, sir?”
He thought for a second, hoping she had taken his advice. “Alexandra Kline.” He spelled the last name for her.
She typed away at her keyboard and said, “Yes, sir. Room fifty-five twenty-five.”
“The top floor?”
“Yes, sir. It’s a suite. Very nice.”
“Wonderful.” He got the key card, instructions for breakfast, and a password for the internet, before taking off for the bank of elevators.
“Sir, would you like help with your bag?”
Jake turned and smiled. “No, thanks. I’ve got this.”
He rose up the elevator and thought about the case so far. Although he was no closer to finding Bill Remington than the day he left Costa Rica, he was beginning to understand the complexity of the case. The Chinese were obviously making bold moves to increase their power and influence in the world. And the best way to do that was to knock down the current leaders.