Lynch watched in wild-eyed horror until the boot’s rubber sole was almost on top of the pills. “All right! All right! I’ll tell you.”
Brekker stopped but didn’t move his boot away from tablets. Lynch was convinced that Brekker would destroy these precious commodities, even though the South African had no intention of harming what was a potential gold mine for him.
“I’m listening,” he said.
“His name is Locsin. Salvador Locsin.”
Brekker glanced at Altus Van Der Waal, his second-in-command. The short but powerfully built former commando thought for a moment, then said, “Communist insurgent from one of the southern islands. Not much known about his financial dealings.” It was Van Der Waal’s job to keep up on all the hot spots around the world so they’d know where their services would most likely be needed.
“How do they deliver the pills?”
“It’s a dead drop somewhere in Bangkok. The location changes every week.”
“Is this your last pill? Does that mean you have a drop tomorrow?”
Lynch nodded quickly.
“Why did Locsin want this pill back so badly?”
“I don’t know. He doesn’t tell me everything.”
“But you’re with Interpol,” Brekker said. “Surely you know much more than one of his average clients.”
“I suppose he didn’t want anybody else to get their hands on it,” Lynch said.
“I think I can see why.” Brekker pulled out Lynch’s ID. He looked at the picture, which seemed to be less than three months old. In it, Lynch had a pencil-thin neck and narrow shoulders. Brekker looked up, and the sunken cheeks and cleft chin were the same, but Lynch’s bulging neck and muscular trapeziuses now seemed to belong to a professional bodybuilder.
“Have you been working out a lot lately?” Brekker said.
Lynch shrugged. “I suppose so.”
“Or has this Typhoon given you a little boost?”
Lynch averted his eyes for a moment before going back to the pills on the floor. “It helps.”
“I bet it does. What do you do for Salvador Locsin? I bet someone in your position would be perfectly placed to give him warnings about any potential interceptions of his drug shipments.”
Brekker’s boot still hadn’t moved.
“Yes, you’re right,” Lynch said, his lips trembling. “He needed someone on the inside, and I have access to police databases and major operations throughout Southeast Asia.”
“And I’m guessing the person who makes the dead drop knows even less than you do. So even if we were able to capture him, it wouldn’t do us much good.”
Tears were streaming down Lynch’s face. “What do you want me to say?”
“Until you give me something useful,” Brekker said, picking up the pills, “I’m afraid I’m going to have to keep these myself.”
“Okay! Okay!” he screamed. “I do know about Locsin’s shipments. I know where they come from.”
“Where?”
“Manila.”
“Manila’s a big city. You’ll have to do better than that.”
“It’s a warehouse near the docks. That’s where they store the product before they load it onto their ship.”
“What ship?”