Lin wound through the streets of Taipei, her driving skills reminding Jake of Nascar without the crashes.
“Where we going?” Jake asked.
Lin looked at him in the rearview mirror. “You said you need some more bullets. More guns. The general will not go away without a fight.”
“How many men does he have?” Alexandra asked.
The Taiwanese officer said, “A few less since the two of you have been in Asia.”
Jake had to laugh. That was the first sign of levity from the Taiwanese officer since they had met.
A half hour later and they pulled into a residential area, through a remote-controlled gate, and Lin parked next to an older, two-story structure.
“Is this a safe house?” Jake asked.
Lin leaned back toward Jake. “Not officially. It was owned by my grandfather on my mother’s side. I inherited it a couple years ago, but only come here once in a while to escape.”
“It looks very serene,” Alexandra said.
“I played here as a child,” Lin admitted. “But I like my apartment downtown.”
Lin showed Jake and Alexandra around the modest house. It had everything they needed, but the food supply was nearly non-existent. So, Lin left the two of them alone while she went out for food and ammo.
Alone now, Jake sat in an old leather chair in the main living room. His eyes scanned the walls, observing the Chinese paintings on the wall depicting scenes from Asia, with the ever-present cranes and the misty mountains of the Guilin area.
Alexandra had her Glock apart on a towel on the glass coffee table across from Jake. She was doing her best to clean the parts.
“No solvent,” Jake said to her.
“No, but I found this oil in the kitchen,” she said, raising a small glass bottle.
“Peanut oil?”
She smelled the top. “Sesame. It’ll work.” She rubbed a little oil on the slide and then put the gun back together again, cycling the movement a few times to make sure the oil worked.
Jake smiled and removed his gun from his hip. He set it onto the table in front of Alexandra. “As long as your fingers are covered in sesame.”
Alexandra rolled her eyes, but then accepted the task of cleaning Jake’s gun. She had his gun apart within a couple of seconds. “You can wash your own underwear.”
“Oh, so that’s how it’s gonna be. I thought you were a good putz frau.”
Now her eyes seemed to burn through Jake. “If that were the case, I would have had a good German man years ago.”
“German men want the three Cs,” he said. “Clean, cook and copulate.”
“You just made that up. In German, two of the three start with a K.” She stopped working on Jake’s gun. “Do you want me to clean your gun or not?”
He nodded. “But I was hoping for at least two of the three Cs.”
“So you want to copulate?” she wondered.
“Actually, I could eat.”
She threw her dirty, oily rag at him.
“All right. You take care of the gun and I’ll find us something to eat.” He got up and started toward the kitchen. But he stopped and turned. “You don’t suppose I could call out for Chinese take out here?”
She didn’t answer. She just shook her head.
Jake left her and went to the kitchen. He found some rice, which he started cooking in the microwave. Then he gathered a bunch of spices, selecting them from smell, since he couldn’t read the labels. While he prepared to make the fried rice, he thought about what he had to do here in Taiwan. In theory, he didn’t have to continue at all. He knew this deep in his bones. Yet, he also knew that the general was used to getting his way through political influence primed by his large bank account. Why did it always come to this, he wondered. If he had a billion dollars, he would simply be content in a villa overlooking the Med. Maybe an infinity pool. He would keep it simple. Of course life might only be complete with the right woman at his side. And he was starting to think that Alexandra could be that woman. At one time he thought it could be Toni Contardo. And then he was sure it could have been Anna. But maybe those two, and their deaths, had made Jake a bit gun shy. Perhaps that was his best reason to simply let this go. He wasn’t sure if he could live with himself if anything happened to Alexandra.
After the rice finished cooking in the microwave, Jake put a little oil and soy sauce into a huge wok and fired up the gas stove. Then he added the rice and started including spices. Unfortunately he had no meat or fresh vegetables to add, so this would be a poor-man’s fried rice.
Alexandra showed up and held Jake at the hips from behind. “Something smells great. Now who would make a good putz frau?”
“You’re funny.” He turned his head and kissed her quickly on the lips. “I wish I had some fresh chicken and veggies.”
“I’m sure it will be fantastic,” she said. “If not a little hot. Are those red peppers?”
“Yeah, they’re good for you.” He almost slipped and mentioned his old Chinese girlfriend, who had taught him how to cook Asian food.
“I like spicy food,” she assured him.
He turned off the burner and swiveled around to her. “Why didn’t I know that about you?”
She kissed him on the lips and then pulled away. “You never asked.” Alexandra looked through a number of cupboards before finding two plates. She seemed to be looking for something else.
Jake found a couple sets of chop sticks and he handed her a pair.
“I’m not great at these,” she said.
“I’ll teach you.”
They sat down at a small kitchen table and started eating the rice. He showed her how he had been taught to use chop sticks and they quickly finished the entire serving of rice.
Alexandra set her chop sticks across her plate. “Wonderful. Now, I will take care of the final C, but first I need a little nap.”
Jake smiled. “Agreed.”
29
The Taipei 101 tower was like nearly every other high rise building constructed worldwide in an attempt to gain the pinnacle of height and fame as the tallest building on the planet. The difference, however, was that whereas all of the other towers of power contained primarily corporate offices of some of the most prestigious companies in the world, this one had one residence. The building didn’t start that way, but over a two-year period, General Wu Gang had bought and paid for the 88th floor, just below the observation and security levels, turning the top level into a lavish penthouse apartment with views in all directions. The other half of that floor just contained the headquarters to his business empire. Of course, anyone visiting the building would never know this. There were no signs on any level that let visitors know of his properties on the 88th floor. Elevators could only access this floor with a special card and by punching in a six-digit access code. And only a couple of the general’s most trusted men had cards and the code.
Now, the general stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window with a view of the sun setting to the west. He imagined it was still somewhat light in Beijing, assuming the dust and pollution still allowed the light through.
His head of security, Shangwei, entered quietly and stood behind the general, who caught the man’s reflection in the window.
“Well? What do you have to report?” General Wu Gang asked.
“The police were not able to stop them at the airport,” Shangwei said.
The general turned. “I assumed that much. What about the American and his girlfriend?”