“Jesus,” said Allan Marquardt, the boyishly handsome forty-five-year-old CEO of construction industry giant The Berthold Group. Marquardt sported a tailored suit with a blue pocket square and matching tie. The corner of a China Air ticket envelope peeked out from his breast pocket. He was reacting not to the photo, but to the memory of opening the food container less than ten hours earlier and discovering its contents: a photograph of two men-a Chinese holding a newspaper and an American holding his broken arm-taken against the backdrop of a hung bedsheet; a carefully folded ransom note; two plastic bags, each containing a single Q-tip.
Dulwich said, “The one on the right. He’s ours. Cletus Danner. He was keeping tabs on Mr. Lu. Must have walked into this. Both alive at the time of the photo. Confirmed POL.”
“‘Proof of life,’ he means,” Primer informed Marquardt. “You’ll get up to speed on the acronyms quickly. Anything you don’t understand, just ask.”
“Like why somebody would do this?” Marquardt asked.
“It’s a business. Don’t personalize it. U.S. concerns paid out four hundred million dollars last year in ransom in Mexico alone.”
“Come on.”
At thirty-nine, Dulwich had a face lined with worry and consternation. A fleshy scar that looked like melted wax climbed out from beneath the T-shirt he wore under his open-necked Oxford button-down.
“The Q-tips are assumed to be DNA swabs,” Dulwich said. “We’re running them now. Another two days, minimum. But they’ll come back Lu Hao and Cletus Danner. Used to be, you sent a severed finger for the sake of the print. We haven’t seen swabs used before: our takers are young, educated and enterprising. Seems a stretch for a Triad-an organized gang-though not out of the question. Whatever the case, it’s very clever and tells us these are not people to mess with. We want to get this handled and get both hostages home ASAP.”
Brian Primer passed Dulwich the plastic evidence bag holding the ransom note.
“The brown paper’s common enough in China,” Dulwich explained, having already studied it. “Easily purchased. Simplified Chinese characters written in pencil-nothing terribly interesting about that. The lack of a political manifesto suggests it’s all business. That’s good for all of us.”
“Our insurance will pay our half of the ransom,” Marquardt said, “as I assume yours will as well.”
Primer nodded.
Just like a CEO, thought Dulwich, thinking about cash before lives.
“They’ll kill them once they’re paid,” said Dulwich.
“You can’t know that,” Marquardt said.
“Our man’s dead for sure at that point,” Dulwich said calmly, “if they don’t do him before. Our one hope is that as an American he’s worth more to them alive.”
“Why kill him at all?” Marquardt asked.
“Because at some point he’s too great a liability. A Chinese kidnapping a waiguoren. An American, at that? You don’t want to get caught. Better to bury him.”
“Jesus.”
Mission accomplished. Dulwich had gotten the human cost to sink in. Marquardt had turned ghostly pale.
“The ransom demand names the first of the month, so we’re already short on time,” Dulwich continued.
“Our clients typically are given weeks or even months until the drop. This shortened schedule is disturbing,” Primer said.
“The first is the start of the National Day holiday,” Dulwich said, “which coincides with the Autumn Festival this year. It’s an interesting choice.” He set the ransom note on the coffee table.
“You make it all sound so…ordinary,” Marquardt said.
“If only,” Primer said. “The DNA samples. The hurried schedule. By no means ‘ordinary.’”
Dulwich screwed up his courage and asked the question Primer wouldn’t.
“What’s more important to The Berthold Group, Mr. Marquardt? The recovery of Lu Hao’s recordkeeping, or Lu himself?”
“That’s a hell of a thing to ask,” Marquardt said.
“That’s not an answer,” Dulwich said, to his boss’s obvious discomfort.
“What Mr. Dulwich means is: it’s important to clarify and prioritize your goals,” Primer said.
“I won’t lie to you,” said Marquardt. “Lu Hao’s records of the incentives could be extremely damaging to the company and to me personally.”
“You’re referring to the two Australians who just got twelve years in Chinese prison for similar ‘incentivizing,’” Dulwich said.
“The case won our attention,” Marquardt admitted.
It had stunned the entire expatriate community. Bribery, overpayment, “incentives,” were part and parcel of Chinese deal-making. For nearly a decade the Chinese government had been working to ferret out corruption among its officials. But reaching into the private sector and imprisoning foreign businessmen had never seemed remotely possible.
“Remember, Allan,” Primer said, “we’re your representatives in this. We’re not here to judge you. Only to get the job done. The job you want done. And that means prioritizing. If the documents are more important, then so be it. We lost one of our men in this. He’s our priority, so don’t think for a minute we’re going to abandon extraction. But how we approach recovering Mr. Lu for The Berthold Group will be adjusted depending on your priorities and needs.”
“We’re talking about human lives,” Marquardt said. “I never thought there’d be any question of priorities. We pay the ransom. We get them back.”
“Like I said,” Dulwich told him, “it isn’t that simple. We wish. But if these people are professionals-and we have no reason to believe otherwise-then they’ll have a half-dozen separate groups in play: the person overseeing the entire operation is called the intellectual; then there’s the hostage-takers; the hostage-keepers; one or more surveillance teams; ransom retrieval, delivery and processing; hostage return.”
“Jesus!”
“It’s big business,” Dulwich said. “Only the intellectual has the full picture, sees all the parts. And he’s removed from the others. We never get to him. None of the groups knows of the others, which is what keeps it safe for the intellectual and makes it nearly impossible for us. So, yes, we work to help you stay calm and to negotiate the release of, or extract, the hostages. As you know, we have a rate of success in the mid-nineties. We know what we’re doing. If this was Colombia, Bolivia or any of the ‘stans,’ it’d be simpler. But this is China. And our guy’s an American, even if yours isn’t. They kidnapped an American. That gives them two things: a rationale to make a high money demand; and a reason to kill the hostages.”
Marquardt looked even paler, Dulwich noted. He seemed to miss the fact that four hundred thousand dollars was a paltry demand. That point had not escaped him and Primer. Ten million would have been a typical starting point. So why not?
“When a Chinese is kidnapped and safely returned, that’s the end of it. An American? The kidnappers will be hunted down by police, caught and executed. Period. They know that. We know that. Whether they meant to take our man or not, it’s too late now. That’s why they’ve set a relatively short timetable for the ransom-to get this over quickly. Get out of Dodge. But make no mistake: once it’s paid, they’ll kill and bury at least our guy, maybe both hostages. It’s the safest move.”
“Mother of God,” Marquardt whispered.
“But remember,” Primer said, “they still want the ransom. To win it, they need to offer us at least one more proof-of-life. Maybe two. We have a week to locate and extract the hostages, maybe push back the demand, certainly negotiate the amount down because they’ll expect that. It’s doable. All right?”
Marquardt nodded.
“Back to the accounts,” Dulwich said. “There’s another aspect to it. Lu Hao’s records of the bribes could be extremely important for us, as well as to you. You want to keep the incentives secret. Fine. We might be able to use the list of people receiving the bribes to find our men. Any one of the recipients of those incentives could be directly or indirectly responsible for the kidnappings. With so little to go on and so little time, that’s one area we intend to explore.”