CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Jack
I couldn’t bloody believe it! Why was I in this position again, with some dickhead pointing a gun at me thinking I was the weakest link?
The only things that stopped me from losing my shit were the fact that the taskforce was watching proceedings on my button cam, and that I knew Nate wouldn’t let me down.
When Nate had hurried out, leaving me with the gun-toting Chinese agents, a stroppy billionaire and a teenage prodigy, I’d had to tell myself that none of this was real...
I wasn’t in danger of getting shot. We were acting out a scene, playing parts, and of course, neither of the guys playing the Chinese agents had a real, loaded weapon.
The fantasy had worked for about a minute, but dissolved as soon as the security guard from the hall sauntered in and saw his boss held at gun-point, and his colleagues trussed up like chickens, ready for roasting!
He eyed the second Chinese agent’s weapon, and instead of surrendering and joining his compatriots, he fought back.
Things became very real! The eye-watering speed with which the Chinese agent fought was astounding, in ten seconds the guard was laid out on the parquet floor, clutching his chest, and wheezing.
Roux’s final lifeline now lay on his side, bound with a couple of laptop charging leads.
Roux eyed me with unbridled hatred, as if his emasculation and powerlessness was my fault.
I wished his hands had been restrained because he looked like he’d love to throttle me!
I’d needed a distraction, something to take the tension down a notch as the five-minute time limit ticked away.
And so, I was surreptitiously playing with the cat, Lolita.
From where I stood close to the French doors a ray of sunlight refracted off my watch glass, sending a beam of light to the floor by the dining table.
The cat jumped down and tried to catch the ball of light, her paws scratching the parquet floor as she pounced and I moved the refraction again.
It was really pissing her off and I was amused.
“Stop fucking with my cat,” Roux grumbled, “She’s a sensitive girl.
” Whatever! If Nate didn’t return quickly, I’d have to say ‘Dinosaur’, the code word to bring in the German tactical team who were waiting in the stairwell for the signal.
Did we have enough on video to prove Roux’s involvement in industrial espionage?
He’d set up this meeting to appear as a broker doing a deal between the Chinese and us.
It was an arrogant move, but this was a man who always got what he wanted, and he was desperate to get hold of even one, solitary Téng hú chip.
“Curtis Hale wouldn’t work for you, so you set up a fake CIA op to get him to do your bidding. That’s quite clever. Did you think of that idea on your own or was Kirkland the brains?” I challenged.
“Brains!” Roux chuckled. “I don’t think so.
Rivera was a useful idiot,” he said, and Kirk Rivera squirmed on the floor, but said nothing.
“It could have worked, you know. We were hours away from the handover…I had my lab on standby,” Roux revealed.
I smiled privately. Thank you very much. My work here is done!
“Dr. Mai, I still think there’s a deal to be done. Anything, I’ll give you anything…a billion dollars?”
“SILENCE” Agent Szi barked. The two Chinese Ministry of State Security agents remained alert, their weapons at a low ready position, their steely dark eyes trained on me, and Oliver Roux.
Dr. Mai explored the lounge walking toe to heel in her pink silk pumps, as if she was so bored, she was measuring the length of the room.
Maybe I could try the charm offensive and sweet talk the girl into not shooting me?
“Eh, Dr. Mai,” I said hopefully. She turned and looked up at me with huge dark eyes. “Now you’ve got me here all to yourself, would you like a photo with Lord Bertie? I’d say there’s no better time,” I suggested brightly.
Oliver Roux stood against a wall, arms folded, his face like a slapped arse, pouting with disdain, fury rolling off him in waves. “Oh puhlease,” he grumbled unimpressed.
“What? I always look after my fans. I’d be nothing without them,” I stated benevolently.
“You’ll be nothing if your boyfriend doesn’t return with the goods in, oh, three minutes. Tick-tock, Jack, tick-fucking-tock,” Roux goaded. God, I hated the man.
Ling Mai’s eyes widened with curiosity at my suggestion and her pinched lips widened to a gleeful grin.
“Yes, yes, wonderful. I will have a photo with Lord Bertie,” she said, clapping like a giddy child.
She then barked something in sharp, aggressive Mandarin and the two Ministry agents stood straighter, proving that Dr. Ling Mai was the one in control here.
“Would you do kiss pose? You cannot kiss me, but you face me and we pretend, like this,” she said, bending forward at the waist, her hands behind her back, her long neck stretched out, eyes closed and her lips in a blush pink pout.
“Sure, no problem. Can Amber take the photo?”
“Yes, yes, this is good,” Ling Mai gushed, clapping her hands together again.
“We will take it on the balcony yes. The view is nice.” She turned to Agent Szi.
He slipped his hand into his suit pocket and retrieved a smart phone.
The agent passed the phone to Ling Mai, who, using a retinal scan opened the apps and clicked on the camera.
“You, lady, you take the picture,” she ordered to Amber as she held the phone out to her.
I eyeballed the nearest Ministry agent, as with my hands up, stepped away from the other captives, heading through the open doorway to the balcony.
This high up, even though the day was hot, the air was fresher and there was a gentle breeze. Ling Mai followed me out.
“You will do Lord Bertie hair?”
“Yes, yes,” I said, checking out my reflection in the glass of the door. I fingered a side parting, flattened my hair to as close to the character as I could get.
“Miss Mai, may I say how ravishing you look in your pretty dress. It would be an honour to have a photograph taken with you!” I flattered in Lord Bertie’s cut glass accent.
I offered my hand, “Charmed, milady!” Ling Mai squealed, flapped her hands, and babbled in Mandarin.
She really did have a thing for old Bertie!
Oliver Roux stood facing the doorway to the balcony, his arms folded, and an unimpressed scowl on his face as he watched the spectacle. Agent Szi had moved position to ensure both Roux and me were in his sightline.
“Get on with it, Linden’s gonna be back any second now and I for one will be happy to see what happens next,” he said, rubbing his hands together. I knew nothing would make Oliver Roux happier than to see me, the man who had secured Dr. Mai’s attention, get shot.
I led Ling Mai to the centre of the balcony, “Kiss pose?” I asked, and she nodded eagerly.
I assumed the position facing Ling Mai, I leaned in as if to give the girl a chaste kiss, with my hands behind my back, and she mirrored me.
Looking into her huge dark eyes I wondered what kind of life she’d had, to be as gifted as this, coding when other kids were playing, and then to become a tool for her government.
Ling Mai was a child who had been given far too much power in some areas and not enough in others.
Amber took several shots and then thrust the phone at the young woman.
“Here, check if they’re okay,” she said in an uninterested voice.
At that moment there was a loud, anxious knock at the suite door.
The second Chinese agent went to answer it.
Nate was back, thank goodness. When he came deeper into the lounge he saw me on the balcony with the teenage genius and strode out to join us.
“You have my Téng hú?” she asked with a pout. He nodded.
“I do. The chips were smuggled out of China inside a credit card.”
“In a credit card, of course! Gad-damn-it,” Rivera roared in frustration. “I never thought to look for a credit card.”
“The sly motherfucker! It’s quite brilliant.” the billionaire exclaimed.
“I have it here,” Nate announced. “The chips are safe and intact,” he stated matter-of-factly. I knew it was bullshit and he was performing for my button camera.
“Very clever. I am impressed,” Dr. Mai admitted.
“Give it to me. Give me my Téng hú,” she demanded, her small slender fingered hand held out.
I kept my eyes on Roux. His face had taken on a look of rapacious determination.
He was almost fevered with the need to see the chips.
Nate drew a card from his pocket and held it up. Then all hell broke loose.
Oliver Roux roared unintelligibly as he bound up the steps to the balcony.
Nate was shoved aside as Roux lurched to grab the card.
The credit card flew from Nate’s grip and amid the shouts; Lolita darted across the balcony after the ball of light refracted by my watch.
Oliver Roux was about to pluck the credit card from the air, but he tripped over his cat, and stumbled with his arm outstretched; his fingertips a centimetre from the credit card.
He tried to correct his balance, doing a strangely graceful pivot, but he was a big guy moving too fast, too recklessly.
Momentum and greed pushed him forward. He lost the fight with gravity.
With that Oliver Roux tumbled over the penthouse balcony.
It all happened so fast, that I couldn’t quite believe what I’d seen.
We were seven floors up, and the fall seemed to go on for an eternity.
Nate and I stared at one another in helpless disbelief as Oliver Roux’s extended scream of “Arrrrgggghh,” drew out.
His terrified wail was audible until there was a final, terminal thud.
The silence stretched as all who witnessed the events on the balcony tried to process what just happened. Apart from shock, my initial callous urge was to laugh. I wondered then, if I was an awful person. I couldn’t keep my mouth shut any longer and broke the silence.
“Did he just, like, slapstick himself to death?” I asked rhetorically, recalling Roux’s insatiable lust to possess the chips, his greedy lunge for the card, and the comical trip over his cat which led to a graceful pirouette to try and prevent the inevitable.
Lolita had tried to follow her daddy and she was now wedged between two balustrades, unable to pass through because of the harness with the wooden spoon.
I picked the cat up, petted her brow, and then set her down.
She darted into the lounge. I reached a hand out and pulled Nate to his feet.
Dr. Mai was ashen-faced, Agent Szi stood in the doorway the hand holding his gun limp, his face unreadable.
Amber’s knees had given way, and she was slumped at an awkward angle, like a discarded doll, crying.
I let go of Nate’s hand and edged to the balcony, daring to take a look over.
I grimaced as I saw that Oliver Roux had landed on the roof of the surveillance van, his head a mass of bloody pulp and his limbs splayed at unnatural angles.
Agent Porter had stepped out of the van and she was looking up at me.
I waved. She lifted both of her hands, as if to say, what the fuck?
I cupped my hands together and hollered “Dinosaur!” in a sing-song.
And with that, Nate burst out laughing and then clasped a hand over his mouth.
I led him off the balcony and into the lounge.
We slumped together on a couch. This nightmare was over.
Roux, for all his wealth and supposed power, had gone the way of the dinosaurs—officially extinct!
Around us chaos continued, Amber’s crying, the trussed-up bodyguards roaring to be set free, Rivera shouting, “What happened, what the fuck just happened?” Dr. Mai was berating her men in staccato Mandarin.
The door to the suite burst open and Agents Deveraux, Mackey, and Lopez strode in.
We all exchanged looks of dismay. This wasn’t the plan.
Roux was supposed to be arrested. The agents had heard everything via our button cams. Deveraux rushed straight through to the balcony and took a look over.
He didn’t look for long, returning to stand in front of us, his expression grim.
“We’ve got to get you out of here,” he said sternly.
“I’ll guard the scene,” Lopez said decisively.
And so, we followed Deveraux and Mackey back to our suite.
As I opened the door for our penthouse, behind us the unit of GSG 9 tactical officers swarmed out of the fire exit door wearing full body armour, brandishing weapons. They rushed for the Superior penthouse.
****