THE CALL FROM Lin Sung came ninety minutes later, close to twelve-thirty. Listening to Ho manage the call, I could see how he’d been such a successful cop in Hong Kong and then made a lot of money with his businesses in Australia.
Darlene had an iPad on her lap and with a new App sent over from Sci’s lab in LA she could pinpoint the caller in under ten seconds. It was impressive, but actually not much help. Lin was calling from a payphone outside Luna Park in North Sydney.
“We would like to meet you,” Lin said, his voice coming softly through a small speaker away from where Ho stood. The words went straight to a digital recorder.
“You will have my son?”
“Not this first time.”
“Then there will be no meeting.”
Silence from the other end. I held my breath.
“You are hardly in a position to negotiate, Mr. Ho.”
Ho paused for a moment. “I entirely disagree.”
Lin gave a small laugh. “Ah! A little game of bluff.”
“I’m not bluffing.” Ho’s voice was stony.
Another, longer pause.
“Very well. We’ll bring the boy. But we will only consider an exchange if all our conditions are met. Do you understand?”
Ho said nothing.
“I’ll assume that is a ‘yes’, Mr. Ho. And if you invite a third party to our meeting, your son will be killed before your eyes.”
When Ho still did not speak, Lin said. “Blackball Reserve, forty-five minutes,” and hung up.
Chapter 89
WE WERE ON the freeway ten minutes short of Blackball Reserve near Manly when the agreed rendezvous was changed. I was in my car, Mary in the police surveillance vehicle with Mark, and next to him, a plainclothes officer driving. A hundred yards ahead of them was Ho’s Bentley which he was driving alone. The news came from Mary calling my cell. “New destination,” she intoned wearily. “A warehouse near the airport.”
We all turned off at the next junction and headed south. I couldn’t see the Bentley, but kept a steady distance back from the cops. My car was fitted with a police tracker set to a broad range of frequencies. I could hear their comms and knew Central Control had quickly redirected the assault team in a chopper to the new location. They’d be much faster than us and in position before we got there.
We reached the place in thirty minutes, pulling up fifty yards short of the warehouse. I parked behind the surveillance vehicle and ran over silently, watching Ho’s car vanish into the shadows. Mary opened the sliding door and I climbed in. Mark and an operative were at the controls. We could hear every sound Ho made through the tiny transmitter.
“Assault Officer 1,” the operative in the van said. “This is Control, come in.” AO1, I knew, was Matt Yender.
“Control. We’re in position. AO4, 5, 6 and 7 are in a small room across from the main warehouse building. I’m with AO2 and 3 the opposite side. I have visual contact with Mr. Ho’s vehicle.”
A screen on the wall of the control-room of the van lit up with a night vision video feed from AO1’s helmet. It showed a fuzzy image of Ho’s Bentley entering the derelict warehouse, lights ablaze. It stopped, Ho dimmed the lights and the image improved dramatically.
As we watched, a black Mercedes with tinted windows, registration LS1 entered through the north end of the dilapidated building. It crunched over the pitted floor strewn with pieces of metal and crushed concrete, stopping twenty feet short of the Bentley.
Ho stepped out of his car, took a couple of paces toward the Merc. The car’s engine was still running, rear doors opened each side. Two men slipped out. They were slender, black-haired figures. The slightly taller one of the pair was Lin Sung. He was dressed in his usual vintage narrow-lapelled jacket and skinny tie. His brother, Jing, was in a blue tracksuit, white trainers. They walked slowly toward Ho as the driver clambered from the front of the Merc to stand by the hood.
“It’s a pleasure,” Lin Sung began, and put out a hand which Ho studiously ignored.
“Where is my son?”
Lin Sung chuckled and flicked a glance at his brother. “There is great value in patience, my friend.”
“I’m not your friend.” Ho looked from one brother to the other. “I’m here to make a deal with you as we provisionally agreed.”
“Yes, and …”