Текст книги "Jack Taggart Mysteries 7 - Book Bundle"

Автор книги: Don Easton

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Текущая страница: 134 (всего у книги 141 страниц)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Randy, Tina, Pom, and a young man who worked for Pom, all sat in one car a short distance down the alley from the factory. Tina was in the driver’s seat and had the car running, while Randy sat beside her and monitored the transmitter taped to Jack’s chest.

Randy had the option of using an earpiece connected to a receiver and a recorder, but he had pulled out the earpiece in this instance to allow everyone to hear.

The yelling and uproar came through the receiver clearly when Jack and Stew entered the factory. More screaming and the pounding of feet running on steps could be heard as Jack and Stew ascended the stairs.

“I can’t hear what they’re saying!” exclaimed Tina.

“I’ll turn it up,” said Randy. “I can hear Jack panting … or maybe it’s Stew Pot. Jack said something about kids and going up to the third,” he added, as he strained to make out what was happening over the din.

More yelling ensued when Randy said, “Sounds like Duwa isn’t there. Maybe they’ll have to come back when —”

Randy was interrupted by Stew Pot’s cry of terror.

“Christ,” said Tina, throwing the car into drive.

“Not yet!” yelled Randy, as he caught a glimpse of Pom pulling out his gun while telling his subordinate to do the same.

“What do you mean, not yet?” yelled Tina. “They’re in trouble! We gotta get in there!”

“Jack hasn’t given the code word yet.”

“Are you kidding me?” yelled Tina. “Maybe he forgot, or is too damn scared to remember!”

“No, I’ve worked with Jack,” said Randy, trying to keep the tension out of his voice so everyone would calm down. “He wouldn’t forget. If he wants us, he’ll let us know. Everyone shut up so I can hear.”

“Hello, did we catch you at a bad time?” asked Jack, looking at the angry mob in front of him. “Does anybody speak English?”

“You come to steal our jobs!” yelled a heavy-set man, shaking a steel pipe in the air.

“You think I am here to steal your jobs?” Jack furrowed his eyebrows as if confused.

“Our children’s jobs!” the man responded.

“Just a minute, we will see,” said Jack, as he walked over to a sewing machine that a worker had vacated after sewing one sleeve on a shirt. Jack sat down and the crowd gathered around him, while arguing with each other.

Jack ignored them and after a couple of failed attempts, where he bunched too much fabric under the needle, he finally sewed a stitch and stood up.

“Maybe I steal your jobs,” said Jack, sounding optimistic, as he tried the shirt on. His arm came up short and the crowd realized he had sewn the sleeve shut. “No, your job is too hard,” said Jack, frowning. “I can’t steal it.”

It brought a couple of smiles and a few people lowered their clubs, but not all.

“Our children’s jobs,” persisted the man. “I know. You see and you tell people, no give money to buy clothes.”

“What is your name?” asked Jack.

“Why?” said the man defensively. “My name no important. Jobs is important.”

“My name is Jack,” he said, sticking out his hand. “And this is my friend Stew.”

The man refused to shake hands and said something to the others, who brandished their clubs again.

“Oh, God,” moaned Stew.

“Why do you think we came back?” asked Jack.

“To see our childrens working,” replied the man angrily.

“I already knew children were working,” said Jack. “The height of all the empty stools told me that.”

Jack waited as the man translated to the others and he saw several people look at the vacant stools and nod.

“So why do you think we came back if we already knew?” asked Jack.

The man frowned and spoke to the group. Most shrugged in response. “So why you come back?” asked the man.

“To help your children,” replied Jack.

“You no help to take away job. Children go hungry, or have sex for money.”

“I know, which is why I came back to see if we could help. Do you have children working here?”

The man nodded and held up three fingers.

“Would you like it if one day your children became bosses? Making more money and perhaps not working so hard?”

The man stared at Jack and did not answer until someone shouted at him from the crowd, then he responded to that person before saying, “That will never happen. Why you talk like that?”

“I have already spoken to Mr. Duwa and told him that people in other countries will pay more money to buy your clothes if they think they are helping poorer people.”

“Children in Myanmar not rich like America,” said the man angrily. “They must work.”

“I know, but you’re not listening to me. What if enough extra money is paid for the clothing that the children would not have to work so many hours in the factory? What if there was money to pay for a teacher to teach the children at the factory so they could get better jobs and make more money? Maybe learn English like you do and get jobs in hotels or restaurants. Some of these children may end up being bosses here. Maybe one of your own children.”

“They would pay that much money?”

“That is what we want. For people in many countries, it is not that much more money because they get paid more. For people here, the difference means a lot.”

The man thought it over and at the crowd’s insistance, translated it to them. People who had been holding weapons looked embarrassed and lowered their weapons as they all talked amongst themselves.

Eventually the man turned his attention back to Jack. “When?” he asked. “When it happen?”

“I don’t know,” replied Jack. “I wish it were happening now. Fair trade is catching on in some parts of the world, but many more people need to be educated about it. It will take time. Measures have to be put in place to make sure the money reaches the right people.”

“What is fair trade?”

“Where richer people pay more money to people who are doing the hard work. To pay them what is fair. For people like you and your children. I have talked to Mr. Duwa about it.”

“He no here.”

“I know. You tell him that I will meet him tomorrow for lunch at the same place. I would like to talk to him again.”

The man nodded.

“Before we go, can I help you with the truck?” asked Jack.

“No … truck is okay,” replied the man, sounding puzzled.

“I thought maybe it had a flat tire,” said Jack, gesturing to the pipe the man was holding from the truck jack.

He gave a toothless smile and said, “I think whole building have flat. Maybe you can fix that.”

Rabbit heard the boarding announcement in the Hong Kong airport. He studied the picture of Jack and Stew on his phone again, before pushing the delete button.

Before he put his phone away, he smiled to himself.

Soon, Jack, I will be deleting you …

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Jack and Stew were barely out of the factory when their taxi pulled up and they got in. “Back to the border crossing,” ordered Jack.

“Man, you, you saved my life in there,” said Stew. His body was starting to shake and Jack knew it wasn’t from the air-conditioning.

“Not really,” said Jack. “They weren’t going to kill us. Bet there wasn’t a murderer amongst them. They are really just a hard-working bunch of people who simply needed reassurance that we weren’t there to hurt them.”

“Hurt them! Are you blind? Didn’t you see the clubs they were carrying? They were going to kill us!”

“No, that was for show to scare us. They’re basically nice people, but a little stressed over their situation.”

“Well if they wanted to scare me, they sure as hell succeeded. I don’t know what I would have done if you weren’t there. I’m going to tell Oskar that you deserve a medal.”

“Uh, please don’t mention the hot reception to Oskar. Say we saw some kids and that I made an arrangement to meet Duwa again tomorrow.”

“Why not? Man, you are one cool dude. Don’t be so modest.”

“We’re new on the job. If Oskar heard what really happened, he might be upset that we took a chance like that. I would feel much more comfortable if we left that part out.”

Stew looked at Jack strangely, but shrugged and said, “Okay, if you say so.”

Jack could see that Stew was still trembling and knew that if Oskar saw him, he would know that something happened. “Tell you what, Stew, I don’t see any rush to get back. Once we reach the border, maybe we should stop for a drink before going back to the hotel.”

“I think I could use one,” agreed Stew. He looked at Jack sideways for a moment and said, “You know, I really underestimated you. I think I owe you an apology.”

“How so?”

“Well, from a comment that Oskar made about you having asthma and not being into sports or anything, I sort of took you for being a little on the wimpy side. That’s why I really didn’t want you going in there alone. Boy, was I ever wrong.”

Jack smiled and said, “I have my moments.”

That night at the hotel restaurant, Oskar, Jack, and Stew were eating when Ben Pike arrived. He was a squat, husky man with a neck the same size as his head. His red hair was cut short in a brush cut.

Jack smiled to himself when he recalled Tom Donald, the first murder victim’s friend, saying that Pike walked like a gorilla. It was a good description. The man’s chest and arms were muscular and Jack had little doubt about Pike’s ability to silently kill a person.

Introductions were made and Jack could see Pike sizing them up. Pike was polite, but Jack caught the subtle sneer of disrespect on his face when they shook hands. My reputation for being a wimp has been passed along …

Early the following morning, Oskar, Pike and Stew met in the hotel lobby, while one of Pom’s men assumed his new role as a taxi driver and loaded their luggage into a hotel van to take them to the airport.

“I’ll bring you back some chopsticks,” Stew said with a smile as he shook Jack’s hand goodbye.

“Sounds good. See you in two days,” replied Jack.

Stew then took Jack aside and whispered, “You’ll stay out of Myanmar, right?”

“No problem. I’ll meet Duwa for lunch in Mae Sai and go over a few things, but that’s all.”

“Personally I think Pike should be with you. We don’t need him where we’re going.”

“I think Oskar wants to have a bodyguard to impress Mr. Yu. Don’t worry about me. I’m not the kind of guy to take risks.”

“After yesterday, I’m not so sure,” said Stew, shaking his head.

“Ah, they weren’t really bad guys. I knew that going in.”

“How?”

“I could feel it in my heart. I believe that people are basically good.”

Stew shook his head in wonder. “Oh, man, Jack. Be careful, will you? People might be basically good, but don’t be naive, either. There are some really bad people in this world.”

“Thanks, Stew Pot. I’ll try to remember that.”

Jack stayed at the hotel for the next four hours until the security team returned from the airport. They reported that Oskar, Pike, and Stew had boarded their flight, along with Willy and Tina, who had blended in with the other passengers.

“Now, back to Mai Sai?” asked Randy.

Jack nodded. “I’ve contacted Duwa and will be meeting him for lunch at the same place as yesterday. After that, I will be going to the jade factory, which is walking distance from the restaurant.”

“You’ll wear a wire?” confirmed Jim.

“For sure. If someone does try to kill me, I want everything recorded. If we get that evidence, we should be able to flip them and also get a wiretap order from a judge.”

“And if someone does kill you, I guess the plan wouldn’t change,” said Jim, wryly.

“Somebodies kill you, they die,” said Pom, matter-of-factly.

Jack was going to ask Pom if he was referring to the capital punishment that was occasionally handed out by the courts in Thailand, but decided against it. Either way, it wouldn’t help me …

Jack’s luncheon with Duwa was uneventful. Duwa was well aware that Jack and Stew had returned to his clothing factory and had seen the children. He apologized profusely for trying to deceive them and hoped it wouldn’t jeopardize any future investments.

Jack told Duwa that with his co-operation, the future could be better for everyone concerned and bade him goodbye before continuing on to the jade factory.

The jade factory was being run by a standard that would be accepted in most Westernized countries. Jack had a tour of the entire operation, from where large chunks of jade arrived from China, to where they were carved down to make sculptures or small pieces of jewellery for worldwide shipment.

The factory itself was filled to capacity and Jack noticed that all the workstations were active … with adults. With proper marketing to promote further business, the factory would likely be a good investment.

Jack purchased a small green pendant for Natasha that was carved to look like a leaf and returned to the Imperial Golden Triangle Hotel. It was suppertime, but he still emailed a brief report to Oskar about the jade factory and reported the conversation he had with Duwa over lunch.

Instead of having dinner at the hotel, Jack strolled through the town in search of a different restaurant. In the centre of town was a large golden Buddha that stood a couple of stories high. It was a drawing point for numerous tourists.

Jack spoke to a few tourists and discovered that most were from a variety of countries in Europe. People were generally friendly and in a festive mood. Thailand was not adverse to people drinking in public as was evidenced by some of the tourists who walked about with open liquor.

Farther along, Jack found a small, dilapidated restaurant that overlooked the river facing Laos. It was an open-air establishment with no walls and only a roof. Despite the sad condition of the restaurant, the smell of the food being cooked barbecue-style in the restaurant appealed to him. It was also crowded with many of the locals, which Jack took as a sign that the food would be good.

He took a seat overlooking the river. To his left, he could see where the two rivers joined each other. It was getting dark, but he could still make out Myanmar on the far side of the second river.

The Golden Triangle was aptly named. Many gangs of thugs had made a lot of money from heroin shipments being funnelled through where the rivers met. With the numerous reward posters slapped on telephone poles by the American Drug Enforcement Agency, it was obvious that drug smuggling was still a problem.

Jack enjoyed a delicious meal of pork cooked in a sauce with fresh green pepper that was still on the stem. He also enjoyed some Singha beer with his meal. There were a few tourists in the restaurant, allowing Jim and Pom to come in and order a meal without drawing attention.

“What, no food for you, Randy?” whispered Jack into the microphone taped to his chest. “Too bad. The Singha beer is delicious. With all this heat and humidity, I think I’m going to order another one.” Somewhere, in the darkness outside, Jack envisioned Randy grinning while silently cursing him at the same time.

After dinner, Jack wandered amongst some tourist shops, but most were closed for the night.

“Hey, buddy,” yelled Randy, “Can you tell me how to get to the casino over there in Laos?” he said, pointing to the large casino on the opposite side of the river.

“I think you go to a little customs hut down the street where you can catch a boat,” said Jack, as he approached Randy. “I could walk you over to it if you like?”

“You’ve got a tail,” whispered Randy, as soon as they were close. “Someone has been with you since you left the restaurant. Big guy, wearing a black hoodie. He was outside watching you when you were eating.”

Jack felt the rush of adrenalin. “Where is Hoodie now?” He spoke quickly while pointing in the direction of the customs hut.

“In the shadows half a block behind you. Jim, Pom, and his crew have him covered. It’s your call, what do you want to do?”

“Have to get him to try and make an attempt on me,” said Jack. “Keep your earpiece in and listen.”

“How the hell will you do it without him actually succeeding?” asked Randy, while making a pretext of looking in the direction Jack had pointed. “These guys are mercenaries. Trained killers. You and I together couldn’t handle him.”

“If he thinks I’m drunk, he might get a little careless. He won’t be expecting me to know what he is about to do, let alone defend myself. I’ll block his first blow and run like hell. Just make sure you guys are close.”

“Maybe you should be drunk. It might not hurt so much when he kills you.”

“Thanks for the confidence,” replied Jack.

“So where do you want to do it?” asked Randy, looking at his watch as if wondering if the customs hut was still open.

“Across from our hotel is an abandoned building built over a cliff. Think it used to be a restaurant and is open on three sides. It would be an ideal place for him to attack.”

“Yeah, I know the place. I checked it out when I first arrived.”

“I’ve seen a few tourists go in there because the entrance is at street level, but the back of it is about three stories high and overlooks the river. It’s a good viewpoint. He shouldn’t suspect anything if I wander in there and it would be an ideal place for him to attack.”

“And if he does?” asked Randy.

“I might be able to get him to say something incriminating. Then if he comes at me, I’ll dodge and run. I might even jump over the railing to get away.”

“Three stories … and it’s rocky along the river’s edge. You’d probably break a leg or something. ”

“That’s only off the back,” replied Jack. “It’s less than that going down the side and the front is at street level. Besides, better a broken leg than a broken neck. Make sure you guys are close enough to get in there quick, but not close enough to tip him off as to what is going on.”

“I might be there quick, then again, I might stop to enjoy a cold beer. I hear the Singha tastes really good.”

“Damn it, karma strikes again,” Jack said, grinning.

“I better go. We’ve been chatting together long enough. Good luck, buddy.”

After Randy walked in the direction of the custom’s hut, Jack went to a convenience store and purchased a mickey of Sangsom rum. When he left the store, he opened the bottle and pretended to guzzle it as he walked.

As Jack strolled down the street, he took his time, pausing in more crowded areas to look at various tourist spots. At one point he found a grassy location and pretended to adjust his sandal, while discreetly pouring most of the rum into the grass.

Jack’s walk became more of a stagger as he slowly made his way back up the street. The Imperial Golden Triangle Hotel was across the street on his left. Leading up to the hotel and on the same side of the street, were a row of closed booths that were shrouded in darkness.

Jack saw that Hoodie had passed him on the opposite side of the street and was hiding in the shadows. There were no other hotels past this point and it was anticipated that Jack would cross the street to go to the hotel.

Jack decided he would stick with the original plan and continued on down the street. He paused in front of a small open-air restaurant while pretending to drink from the mickey and saw Hoodie quickly cross the street farther behind him. Jack swayed slightly on his feet and gawked toward Hoodie, who pretended to look out toward the river while waiting to see what Jack would do next.

Jack saw more figures moving amongst the shadows behind Hoodie and knew his cover team was closing in.

There was an empty lot leading up to the abandoned building and Jack made a show of trying to take one more guzzle of rum. He then shook the empty bottle as if discovering it was empty. “Wha’ the fuck!” he slurred, before tossing the bottle into the deserted lot.

As Jack staggered along the street, he could hear Hoodie’s footsteps quicken as he closed in.

Chapter Thirty

“Excuse me, sir! I am wondering if you could take my picture? Do you speak English?”

Jack saw a tourist standing inside the abandoned building. Damn it! Not now … He glanced back at Hoodie who was too close to pretend to linger and would be forced to keep walking.

“Sir?” asked the tourist.

“Uh, yeah, okay,” said Jack as he entered, but pretended to stagger and leaned over the railing facing the street as though he might be ill. Hoodie gave a furtive glance at the tourist, then kept his head down and walked past.

“Sir, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” snapped Jack. He didn’t want to strike up a friendly conversation and hoped the man would leave as soon as possible.

Conditions could not have been better for what he planned. He had opportunity to escape from the building and there were more than enough people on his cover team to subdue Hoodie. Martial arts would be no match for the guns that Pom and his men carried.

“Just a picture of me sitting on the railing with the river behind me,” said the tourist, extending his hand to pass Jack the camera.

Jack nodded and pretended to study the camera, while watching Hoodie cross to the far side of the street again and step into the shadows. It caused a problem for part of the cover team who were forced to continue walking past, but there was a bend in the street and Jack knew they would be able to double back and use some bushes for cover.

“You push the little silver button on the top,” offered the tourist, trying to be helpful.

“I know how to use a camera,” said Jack, sounding sarcastic. He took a picture and quickly handed the camera back.

“Oh, dear,” said the man, as he took the camera and turned and looked over the railing.

“What now?” asked Jack.

“My glasses. They were in my case and I had set them on the balcony. They must have fallen off. I’m practically blind without them.

Jack peered over the edge. There was some light reflecting onto the rocks below and a small path wound its way alongside the building to the rear.

“I’m nervous to go down there and look,” said the man. “Would you mind waiting until I get them? In case I fall or something.”

“You stay and I’ll go look for them,” said Jack.

Moments later, Jack paused near the front corner of the building, pretending to steady himself, as he stared at the path going down to the riverbank. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hoodie watching from the shadows farther down the street.

Good. Wait another couple of minutes and come back and join me. We’ll have a little surprise for you …

Once Jack was at the bottom of the path, he carefully stepped out onto the rocks and broken pieces of concrete that lined the riverbank. He was confident that Hoodie would wait for the tourist to leave before making his move, but still kept an eye on the spot where the path rounded the building.

Moments later, he saw the tourist round the corner and head straight for him. The tourist had an odd gait, seeming to bounce with each step. His eyes were focused on Jack and he moved with agility as he left the path and deftly leaped from rock to rock toward him.

Rabbit!

Jack had about three seconds before contact and knew that once alerted, it would still take his cover team at least thirty seconds to assist. To turn and try to run on the rocks would also leave him open as an easy target.

“This is a hell of a pickle!” yelled Jack, before stumbling and falling. He regained his balance with one hand and stood up as Rabbit closed in.

Jack tried to smile innocently, while swaying on his feet as Rabbit quickly drew back his fist in a classic karate attack. The stance was intended that the fists would work opposite of each other, while one drew back, the other struck.

Randy and Jim had managed to circle back and found a place to watch Hoodie from the parking lot of the Imperial Golden Triangle Hotel. The lot was directly across the street from the abandoned building.

Pom and two of his men had remained farther down the street past Hoodie, but had positioned themselves in some bushes that were close to him.

Randy heard Jack’s unexpected code word for help over his earpiece.

“Oh, shit! Jack’s in trouble!” yelled Randy.

As Randy and Jim ran across the street, Jim radioed Pom that help was needed immediately. Neither Randy or Jim waited for Pom as they ran down the path leading to the riverbank.

Pom and one of his men followed seconds behind. Hoodie, alerted by the yelling tried to run away, but was pursued and tackled by another man from Pom’s team.

Jack blocked the first blow that Rabbit aimed to his solar plexus. He believed that following a punch to his solar plexus, Rabbit would likely deliver a blow to the base of his neck, while simultaneously smashing his head back with his other hand.

Rabbit’s face registered a slight flicker of surprise when Jack blocked the first blow. Killing an unsuspecting drunk should have been easy.

“Rabbit!” Jack yelled, thinking his knowledge of his name would shock him and cause him to stop.

Rabbit’s face registered shock, but instead of slowing him down, it appeared to motivate his actions further. His opposite fist moved with lightening speed and he muttered, “You’re dead, you fucker,” as he directed his second blow at Jack’s groin.

Jack turned slightly sideways, absorbing the blow to his hip and striking back.

He only hit Rabbit once, but it was enough. The fist-sized piece of concrete Jack had picked up when he pretended to stumble found its mark on Rabbit’s temple.

Rabbit fell to the ground like his body was made of Jell-O. Jack quickly rolled him over onto his stomach and grabbed his arm, forcing it up his back to pin him in place.

“Guess what, asshole, I’m not the drunken wimp you expected!”

Rabbit did not reply and Jack realized that his body was completely limp. Still holding his wrist, Jack felt for the pulse in the carotid artery. There was none.

“We’re here!” yelled Randy, as he rounded the corner first, followed by Jim and then Pom, who aimed his gun at Rabbit.

“No need,” said Jack, standing up. He felt his hands trembling from how close he had come to being killed and folded his arms across his chest. He nodded toward the corpse. “That is one dead bunny.”