Flood Tide (Dirk Pitt 14)

"You sick beast," Julia flashed at him, fear beginning to spread in her eyes.

"Do not entirely blame me," Wong said as if wounded. "Your future is now in the hands of the Dragon Triad, Qin Shang Maritime's partners in crime, you might say. We export and the Dragon Triad imports. We smuggle and sell; they buy, be it drugs, aliens or weapons. In return, Mr. Loo, who is their chief executive officer, and his partners provide Qin Shang with stolen luxury automobiles, yachts, consumer goods, high technology, and counterfeit currency, credit cards and government documents for shipment to China."

"A most profitable arrangement for both sides," said Loo, twisting Julia's hair viciously until she screamed. Then he slapped her hard across the buttocks and began removing the chains. "You and I are going for a nice, long ride in my limo. By the time we reach New Orleans, we'll be on very close terms."

"You will pay," Julia murmured as she was released from the door, her wrists and ankles free of the manacles. Unable to stand, she sagged into Loo's arms. "I am an agent of the United States government. Kill me and they'll never rest until you're brought to justice."

Wong laughed off her threat. "You have no one but yourself to blame for your plight. Qin Shang sent a force of no less than twenty men to track you and Mr. Pitt down for the purpose of killing you both. They lost your trail and certainly never expected you to walk through our front door."

"I was stupid."

Wong shrugged in agreement. "Granted, impulsive behavior is not what makes a good government agent-" Wong was suddenly interrupted by the sound of gunfire from somewhere within the building. He stared at Loo, who removed a portable phone from a pocket of his expensive sport coat and spoke into the receiver.

"Where is the gunfire coming from?" demanded Loo. "Are we being raided?"

"No, Mr. Loo," his chief of security answered from the monitoring-systems room. "There is no raid. All grounds and wharf are clear. The gunfire is coming from a room above the train-loading dock. We do not yet know who is behind the attack nor his purpose."

"Are there casualties?"

"No," answered the security chief. "Whoever is shooting is not aiming at our guards."

"Keep me informed!" Loo snapped. He nodded at Wong. "It is time to go." He had barely spoken the words when the shooting stopped. "What has happened?" he inquired, snatching up the radio again.

The security chief's voice came back. "We must have hit him. I am sending a team upstairs to examine the body."

"I wonder who it can be," Wong muttered thoughtfully.

"We'll know shortly," Loo muttered. He threw Julia over his shoulder as lightly as if she was a large pillow. He shook hands with Wong. "Good doing business with you, Mr. Wong. I suggest you find a new staging depot. This one is no longer safe."

Wong smiled without the slightest expression of agitation. "Three days from now Qin Shang Maritime's new operation will be firmly established and the Americans will have bigger problems on their minds."

With Wong in the lead, they left the office together and hurried down a circular staircase that opened onto a wide corridor leading past empty storage and equipment rooms last used when the sugar mill was in operation. They were halfway down the corridor when Loo's beeper went off on his radio. "Yes, what is it?" he said irritably.

"Our security agents stationed throughout St. Mary Parish report a small fleet of Coast Guard boats entering Bayou Teche, and a pair of helicopters with government markings just now passing over Morgan City, headed in this direction."

"How long before they arrive?" asked Loo.

"The helicopters," said his security chief, "fifteen, maybe eighteen minutes. Add half an hour for the boats."

"All right, close down all systems and follow the plan for evacuation and dispersal of all personnel."

"Shutting down now."

"We should be in our limos and on the road in less than three minutes," said Loo, shifting Julia to his other shoulder.

"More than enough time to put a safe distance between us and the mill," Wong acknowledged.

When they reached a doorway leading to stairs that dropped to the basement shipping terminal, they heard the shouting of voices but no sounds from the locomotive. Then the voices died and it became clear that something was very, very wrong. They burst through a doorway onto a landing high above the loading dock. Wong, ahead of the rest, stopped and froze in shock.

The freight cars had been loaded with the immigrants and their doors shut and locked. But the engine sat idle, with blue smoke curling up through bullet holes on the panels covering the diesel engines and electric generating compartment. The engineers stood looking at the damage, their expressions reflecting helplessness and bafflement. The security guards who worked for the Triad had already climbed into a truck that quickly drove off toward the main highway the instant it was loaded.

Suddenly Loo realized why the unknown assailant did not shoot at the guards. Fear and confusion swept over him as he understood that the train was not going anywhere. Three hundred immigrants and a cargo of illegal goods worth nearly thirty million dollars was going to be captured and confiscated by United States government agents. He turned to Wong. "I'm sorry, my friend, but because the transfer of goods was not able to take place, I must hold Qin Shang responsible."

"What are you saying?" demanded Wong.

"Si

mple," explained Loo. "I'm saying the Dragon Triad is not paying for this shipment."