The commotion from the man getting murdered in the streets was long over, the blood quickly cleaned away as if nothing had happened there earlier in the evening.
Shangwei found the western-style bar and wandered inside, taking a seat at the end of the bar. He pointed to the tap at the Taiwan Beer pull and the bartender started drawing a beer for him. His eyes scanned the bar mirror behind the bar for his contacts and he finally settled on the two men sitting at a booth, the man with the long dark hair with a stupid look on his face. Then he quickly glanced at his own image in the mirror. His hair was longer than normal and would have never passed inspection from his army days. The heads from the dragon and tiger poked out from his shirt collar like pets from a blanket, and he fought the urge to scratch again at the newest additions.
Shangwei paid for his beer, drank the cold one down in a few long gulps, and then wandered back out to the street.
A chill in the air forced him to pull the collar up on his peacoat, the wool irritating his fresh tattoo, and he shoved his hands deep into his pockets.
After a block of walking, he could finally hear the two men getting closer behind him. When he came to a narrow passageway, he turned right and wandered into the increasing darkness. Without looking behind him, he could tell the two men did the same thing.
Just ahead the passageway curved to the right. The perfect place for his encounter. He simply turned and waited for the two men to catch up to him.
He waited in the shadows, knowing the two men would be forced to look into the light coming from the building behind him.
The two Taiwanese men stopped and both tried to shade their eyes from the light with their hands.
“Tell me what happened,” Shangwei ordered, trying to keep his Chinese dialect hidden.
The Taiwanese man with the long hair switched to near perfect English. “We were forced to take out our target. He already gave the banking information to his contact.”
That was interesting. Shangwei used English now as well. “What did the man look like?” He already knew this, but he didn’t want them to know that he knew.
“Nothing special. He looked European.”
“Not American? How do you know?”
“Just a feeling.”
“What language did he use?”
Long hair shook his head. “We don’t know. He never said a word to us. And we were too far away to hear his conversation with the banker. I went to college in Oregon. But this man wore European clothes.”
“What else about the man?”
The other silent one nudged his friend with the long hair.
“What?”
Long hair finally said, “He knew some shit. We’ve both been trained in the martial arts and this guy moved like a damn ninja in the darkness. He had us both knocked out within twenty seconds.”
Shangwei already knew this. “Did he take anything from you?”
“Just our dignity,” long hair said. “We had nothing to take. No identification, nothing.”
“Good, good. Is that still the case?”
Both men looked at each other. “Yes. Wait. I got a photo of the man on my phone.”
Shangwei shifted his head side to side. “You could have said that in the beginning.”
Long hair pulled out his phone, found the image, and handed his phone to his contact.
The image was not very clear. It showed two men in the distance sitting at a table. He zoomed the image in and focused on the man on the right. He turned the phone toward its owner and said, “Is this the man that kicked your asses?”
Both of them nodded their heads.
“Consider yourself lucky to be alive. This man is a killer. Since he left you alive, I’m guessing either he liked you or you didn’t totally piss him off.” He looked at the mute man and asked, “Do you have a phone?”
The quiet one shook his head.
Shangwei kept the phone in his right hand and he reached inside his jacket with his left hand. “Good work. I’ve got something for the two of you.”
Both men smiled until they saw the gun with the silenced barrel appear from the wool jacket. But neither of them had a chance to react. The first bullet hit the man with the long hair right between the eyes, dropping him instantly to the pavement. The second bullet went into the open mouth of the quiet man, sending a splash of blood and brain against the wall behind him. With both men on the ground, Shangwei pointed at their bodies and put two more rounds in each of their chests.
The gun back in its holster inside his jacket, he then casually walked into the passageway and made his way out onto the main street.
This was worse than he first thought. Following the western man with the hat from the meeting, he had never gotten a really good look at the guy. He could live with the death of the banker. The man had outlived his utility anyway. But now he had confirmed who was on the trail of Bill Remington. Jake Adams. And what he knew about the man was one thing — he was not only deadly, but he was one relentless bastard. Yet, Shangwei had a couple of things going for him. First, he knew that Jake Adams was on the trail. And second, he had a picture of the man with the dead banker just before the guy was stabbed to death. He just needed to transfer and send the image to the local police, who would shut down the entire island until they tracked down Jake Adams. He checked his watch and smiled at what he knew was coming next.
The sleek, stealthy Kang Dang class frigate cruised through the dark waters of the strait between the island of Taiwan and the mainland of the People’s Republic of China, ten miles south southwest of Ma-Kung Island, on the northern edge of the South China Sea.
Since it was just after 0300, the bridge crew consisted of the officer of the deck or OOD, a young lieutenant, and three petty officers.
When the first indication that something was wrong came across the radio, the lieutenant had two choices. He could either wake the captain or deal with it himself. He chose the latter.
This French-built frigate was state of the art, with a beveled exterior that reduced their radar signature. Their mission consisted of keeping the Strait of Taiwan clear of enemy submarines and aircraft. They were armed with the Hsiung Feng II anti-ship missiles, and the new Tien Chien II, or Sky Sword II, surface to air missiles. They also had a 100 millimeter automatic gun. The older single barrel French 20 millimeter Modele F2 guns had been recently replaced with the six-barrel American 20 millimeter Phalanx System.
In just a few seconds the potential danger changed from the curious aberration to the possible conflict. An incoming aircraft had been identified at a Russian-built Sukhoi Su-33, carrier-based fighter jet. It had to be from the carrier they had shadowed in the past few days in the South China Sea while patrolling near the Spratly Islands, a disputed area the Chinese would like to control exclusively for oil and gas exploration. But one of those islands had always been part of Taiwan.
The officer of the deck got on the radio and tried his best to warn the incoming aircraft that they were in international waters. No response.
“Sir we have an incoming missile detected,” the communications petty officer said quickly.
“Arm the Phalanx System,” the OOD barked. “Helm hard to port. Deploy electronic countermeasures.”
“Phalanx armed.”
“Arm SAMs,” the OOD yelled.