The Brown Recluse - Part 3

The Brown Recluse

Part 3

Twenty-three

“I wish you could make a friend of me, Lizzie.  Do you think you could?  I have no more of what they call character, my dear, than a canary-bird, but I know I am trustworthy.” 

Charles Dickens

Billy Ray

12 May 2007

I sipped excellent coffee, as I lingered over my room service breakfast.  A knock interrupted my peaceful interlude.  I opened the door and found a hotel employee.  He handed me a sealed envelope.  I tipped the bellman, closed the door, and opened the envelope.  It contained an invitation from Hong to meet with Chang Wen-biao as planned.  The time for the meeting was 10:00 a.m. 

When I arrived at Hong’s office at 10:10 a.m., the atmosphere in the room was highly charged.  Both Wen-biao and Jian-mei stood in readiness and neither glanced in my direction.  We all seated ourselves at Hong’s invitation. To confuse the issue, I directed broad smiles at both Feng Jian-mei and Chang Wen-biao.  Her face did not register a response, but I thought she had a pleasing light in her eyes.  Wen-biao's countenance did not change at all. 

Hong wasted no time on the amenities.  "Our business discussion ended unfortunately yesterday, but there is every reason to believe we can reach an agreement in this negotiation.  Wen-biao, did you contact your associates?"

Wen-biao, still ignoring me, spoke.  "Even though I still feel these discussions have not been in good faith, I will increase my offer to one million three hundred thousand.  That is a firm and final offer."

Hong looked questioningly at me.  I remained silent for several seconds.  Wen-biao appeared to ignore the situation, but small droplets of sweat popped out on his brow.  I finally answered.  "Obviously, Mr. Chang has not enlisted the use of many oil tankers, paid many middle-men, or bribed many customs officials.”

At this point, I leaned back in my chair.  I said, “Mr. Hong, I have dealt with you over several years, and our business history is important to me.  I seriously doubt that I will realize a dime of profit after we conclude this venture, but because of our past business dealings, I will make this special consideration.  I am willing to guarantee the completion of this arrangement for the fee of one million five hundred thousand American dollars.  As conditions of the agreement, it is necessary to pay for the oil tanker up front, and two hundred and fifty thousand of my fees.  These conditions are not negotiable."

By this time, the sweat was freely running down Wen-biao's face.  Jian-mei rose, walked to Wen-biao, and whispered in his ear.  "I know, I know," he screeched.  After what seemed perpetuity, he nodded to Hong, who immediately produced contracts for the signature of both men.  After signing the agreement, Wen-biao stomped from the room.  I glanced at Jian-mei.  The corners of her mouth turned up slightly, and she departed as well. 

Hong Bin-zhuo and I shared a look of accomplishment and shook hands warmly.  I left the office immediately, so as not to arouse suspicion of conspiracy, and headed for the Claridge Hotel. 

Upon arriving back at my room, I checked flights for Houston and booked one on Continental.  If everything went well, I would realize a tidy addition to my working capital.  There would be enough to spend some quality time with Cloud McFarland watching East Texas high school football.  But then we must not get ahead of ourselves, I thought.

*****

After returning to Houston and getting some much-needed sleep, I began mentally tugging at the Chinese oil deal.  My responsibility was to move two million barrels of Iranian light from Iran to India.  The port authorities in both places would require some greasing, but I assumed the Chinese had already taken care of the Iranians.

It occurred to me that I was the only non-oriental involved at this point.  If I became careless, I could set myself up for a grand rip off.

As stipulated in my contract with Chang Enterprises, Limited, I would receive half of my fee up front and the other half upon delivery of the oil to India.  The remainder of my fee would come from the sale of the oil and not from the Chinese.  Chang would pay the tanker fee of one million dollars to the chosen shipping company up front.  Acquiring a tanker in a timely manner was my first contribution to the project. 

I knew the transaction required a large tanker, plus an owner who would work with me if conditions disintegrated.  That list contains only one name.  I must contact Big Al Peshier, and see what he has available.  My experiences with Big Al spanned more than a decade.  He was reliable, trustworthy, and willing to bend the rules for special friends with money.  I used him whenever I could and would settle for no one else when sticky wickets were involved.  This was one of those times.  I rang Al Peshier's international number and waited. 

A well-modulated contralto voice said, “Mr. Peshier’s office.  How may I help you?”

“Janine,” I exclaimed.  “You sound gorgeous this morning.”

“Billy Ray, you would make Valentino sound like a clumsy oaf.  How are you, Darling Boy?”

“I am trying to do what I can to keep your paychecks coming.  Is the Pirate available?”

“He is indeed, Billy Ray,” answered Janine.  “Let me put you through.”

“Peshier here,” said a man with a strong French accent.

“Big Al, this is your daddy.  It’s time for your weekly allowance,” I chuckled.

Big Al fired back, “Since when did you get out of the sack long enough to do any business?  However, I must say that when I brought that last consignment to Houston; the payoff went even better than we planned. I might consider buying you a drink one of these days.  ”

“You should know by now Billy Ray takes care of his friends.  By the way, how does your schedule look in the middle of July?  I have two million barrels of Iranian crude that needs moving under special circumstances.”

Big Al grunted and checked his calendar.  “I might be able to switch a few things around and make a trip for you.”

I rejoined with energy, “Who are you kidding?  You probably haven’t had any work since our last contract.”

Big Al retorted, “If I get any more business, I might have to start calling my profession work.  What do you have on your thieving mind?”

I went into business mode.  “I need to move the sweet crude from Iran to India.  The only problem is this might be a scary deal.”

Peshier groaned, “When you start talking scary deal, I figure Big Al needs to up his insurance.”

I ignored the aside.  “You will get your money up front, so there is little risk for you.  I need you to set up an offloading site in India for late July.  What do you think of Mumbai?  You may need to pay off the port authority on such short notice.  Will you have enough time?”

“It doesn’t take long to make phone calls," growled Big Al. “I will set up the sale in Mumbai.” 

I continued my smooth delivery.  “Fine.  We don’t have to worry about where the money goes.  We only need to deliver the oil. 

Big Al asked, “Where are you going to be when this goes down?”

I was silent for a moment.  “I will have to let you know for sure, but I'm thinking Monte Carlo.  I’ll keep in touch as circumstances develop.  Consider this a done deal.  One other thing.  Does fifty cents a barrel sound okay?”

“Shore nuff, Billy Ray,” drawled Big Al with his thick French accent. “Ya’ll come to see us, hear.”

I broke the connection, and then dialed another international number.  After several rings, a voice answered, “Mr. Hong's office.  May I help you?”

"Mrs. Murphy, this is Chief Inspector Calhoun of New Scotland Yard.  May I speak with Mr. Hong?"

Mrs. Murphy answered with a smile in her voice, "Inspector, Do you by chance know how to rope a steer?"

I chuckled and said, "You got me, Mrs. Murphy.  Is the boss in?"

Mrs. Murphy smiled with her voice.  "I will ring him right away."

Hong answered the phone and I said, "Hong Bin-zhuo, this is Billy Ray.  There is so much noise that I can hardly hear you.”

“Bitch, bitch,” laughed Hong Bin-zhuo.  “I was watching a re-run of the football game.  So, is everything arranged?”

 “I made preparations for the product to be picked up, moved to the destination, and sold.  Big Al will furnish the boat for one million paid up front," I said in a confident tone.  “Just as soon as we get the earnest money in hand, you can bring the Chinese up to speed.”

*****

Twenty-four

“…for not an orphan in the wide world can be so deserted as the child who is the outcast from a living parent’s love.”

 Charles Dickens

Cloud

23 May 2007

I poured myself a Jack Daniels on the rocks while gritting my teeth, knowing I had allowed Billy Ray Calhoun to influence my life to the extent I even drink his favorite whiskey.  I inwardly chuckled, when I reflected on how this adopted habit always drew a response from my Manhattan friends.

Billy Ray called last night and informed me he would be in New York this afternoon. He is hatching another of his hair-brained schemes and wants me to accompany him to Monaco.  I can’t recall the number of times I have sworn to stay away from Billy Ray, but I have rarely been able to tell him no. Our history as casual lovers spans the years since my sophomore year in high school some twenty-five years previously, and not a day passes that he doesn’t enter my thoughts.  There is much water under the bridge between Billy Ray and me.  A deep-seated attachment exists that has never paled for either of us, and it is unlikely that it will. 

This time would be different.  Yeah right!  I thought.  At least if the deal went sour, it would be in Monte Carlo. 

My eight hundred-square-foot efficiency apartment was tight, but due to my fast-paced lifestyle, I had little time to maintain it.  I inherited my housekeeping gene from my shiftless mother, which was akin to not having one at all.  I quickly straightened and surface cleaned the area. I threw on a pair of tight jeans and an even tighter tee shirt and headed off to Ava’s Salon.  I planned to get the full treatment including a manicure, a pedicure, and my hair coiffed.  I always wanted to look my best for Billy Ray. 

I walked the six blocks up Second Avenue to Ava’s.  Not having an appointment was common for me, since during my modeling days, they were virtually impossible to keep.  Besides, my tenure as a regular at the salon approached a decade. 

When I arrived, Judy, the receptionist, called out my name and gave me a hug.  After several minutes of idle conversation, Sue, the anorexic manicurist, came for me and escorted me back to a spa chair. I stretched back and enjoyed the vibrating massage while Ellen gave me a manicure, and Sue performed a pedicure.

As I rested in deep comfort, my thoughts drifted back in search of previous flings with Billy Ray, but Sue and Ellen kept interrupting with nonstop questions about the world of modeling. Even though I downplayed my modeling management position, Sue and Ellen treated me as though I was still one of the top models in the New York fashion industry and questioned me about all the people with whom I had worked.  I usually enjoyed the banter, but this afternoon I wanted to be alone with my thoughts.  Sue and Ellen finally finished, and I moved on to Eloise’s booth to have my hair shampooed and styled. 

I sometimes disliked the silence awkward when Eloise worked on my hair, but today I enjoyed the absence of conversation.  The prospect of being with Billy Ray was always a warm one, but since I had needed a Billy Ray fix for some time, I looked forward to the visit with more than my usual interest.  Then I remembered another time when I had felt this way, and the memory was not a good one.

*****

After leaving Piney Springs, Texas, I settled in Dallas and began my modeling career.  After only a few months, I received a call from Billy Ray.  He wanted to come to Dallas for a weekend visit.  I was elated, because I thought when Billy Ray saw me out of the Piney Springs setting, all decked out in my new finery; he would no longer view me as poor white trash from the Sulphur River bottoms. 

Billy Ray arrived in Dallas on a Thursday night, almost a day earlier than he was due.  He was ready to enjoy a night on the town with me after a quick romp between the sheets. We started club hopping and soon found ourselves at the It’ll Do Club, where we stayed and danced until closing time. After arriving back at my apartment, I was exhausted and hoped that we would get some sleep since I had a 9:00 a.m. modeling assignment and had not considered skipping it. Billy Ray was also ready for bed, but sleep was the last thing on his mind.

After Billy Ray told me how much he missed my company and how much he wanted to be with me again, I was confident my status as a top Dallas model was just what I needed to attract Billy Ray on a long-term basis. The early evening frolic was just a sampler of what was to come. Billy Ray came after me with a passion and aggression that was rare even for him and completely absent among the other men in my life.  I had not experienced sex like that since his senior year in high school.  Finally, we drifted off to sleep about two hours before my first modeling assignment of the day, but not before I turned off the alarm.

We awoke about noon, showered, dressed and went out for breakfast.  An afternoon of beer drinking with some of Billy Ray’s UT pals followed.  Friday night played out as a duplicate of Thursday night with the only variation being more sex if that was possible. Saturday night was a repeat of the prior two nights. After our breakfast on Sunday afternoon, Billy Ray got into his flashy convertible and headed back to Austin but not before promising to return to Dallas the following Friday.

I was elated Billy Ray found me so desirable, but I was apprehensive about work.  I had skipped Friday’s modeling assignment, and my mirror showed how worn out I looked.  The scales reflected I had gained weight while drinking and eating rich foods with Billy Ray.  I knew my boss would be unhappy with me on Monday morning, but her absolute rage shocked me.  The tiny woman gave me the worst tongue-lashing I had ever experienced.

Billy Ray continued his weekend visits to Dallas for about a month.  Glenda’s and my relationship continued to deteriorate. The only thing that kept me employed was the fact that I was the most popular model in Dallas.  The second month Billy Ray came every other weekend, and he was more interested in partying than spending time alone with me. The third month he came to Dallas one time, that being the last I saw or heard from him for six months.  His absence led to an immediate improvement in my dealings with Glenda. The next time I heard from Billy Ray, he offered no explanation.  I came very close to telling him to kiss off, but the words would not come out.

*****

With my attention back at Ava’s Salon, I abruptly left my reminiscences and embraced the present, because Eloise told me my hair required no further attention.  Still caught between memories and reality, I didn’t know if I was angrier with Eloise or Billy Ray, but it didn’t matter; because, I had to get back to my apartment in time to shower and dress so I would look my very best for Billy Ray. 

*****

Twenty-five

People who have tried it, tell me that a clear conscience makes you very happy and contented; but a full stomach does the business quite as well, and is cheaper, and more easily obtained.

Jerome K. Jerome

Billy Ray

23 May 2007

I called Cloud on my cell phone soon after landing at Kennedy International Airport, and we chatted for a few minutes while I waited for a cab.  When one became available, I told her I would be at her place in a short time and rang off.  The moments in transit to Cloud’s apartment gave me some time to reflect on the upcoming Monte Carlo trip as well.  The scene in London wasn’t the best foundation for this gig.  I didn’t trust Chang Wen-biao for a second and expected the worst. 

At least, Cloud and I could hang out in Monaco and enjoy one of the premier resort areas in the world.  Of all the women I had known, she came as close to a permanent place in my life as anyone.  We were soul mates.  It was no fault of Cloud’s that my life style and personal idiosyncrasies made it virtually impossible to maintain a permanent relationship with anyone.  She was not much different, but we always had each.

When Cloud opened the door, a vision in green, I could not help but bury my face in her neck as I hugged her.  I kissed her chastely so as not to damage her make-up and entered her apartment.  Cloud had my Jack Daniels poured and only had to add the ice.  I took a sip and said, “Heaven on earth.”

Cloud looked me up and down.  “You look good Billy Ray.  Nice and trim.”

I flexed my rather impressive biceps and patted my relatively flat stomach. “I learn from you, Darlin'.  In fact, just about every good thing I know, I learned from you.”

Cloud had heard smooth Billy Ray before.  She grinned and asked,   “When is the last time you got laid?”

“No more than six months ago,” I said then placed both arms around Cloud’s waist and stroked her bottom.

Cloud slipped out of my embrace and retorted, “Yeah, right.”

I made a half-hearted grab for the elusive Cloud, and then grinned.  I said, “Are you hungry?”

Cloud placed her elbow in one hand and stroked her chin with the other.  “Do you have any money?”

I feigned shock.  “What do you mean, do I have any money?  Of course, I have money.  I am a wealthy man.”

“I haven’t eaten in three days,” said Cloud.  “I just need to know if this was a good week or a bad week before I order dinner.”

I looked thoughtful for a moment then asked, “Could we go Dutch?”

Cloud picked up a pillow and threw it at me.  “Dutch, my ass!  If I get one free meal out of you when you hit town, I feel like I’ve won the lottery.”

      I laughed, “When did I ever do you wrong, Cloud honey?”

      Cloud picked up her wrap, drapped it over her shoulder, and pushed me toward the door.  “We had better get out of here, since you are beginning to piss me off.  I want to hear all about the latest scheme you’ve hatched to make us both rich.  Then I intend to turn you down flat and send your pretty butt back to Houston.”

      I walked through the door, and Cloud locked it.  I offered, “Cloud, we are both going to be rich beyond our wildest dreams.  This is it.  This is the mother lode.”

“You are so full of it,” laughed Cloud.  “But, since there is nothing on TV but re-runs, we might as well eat.”  Then she stopped and exclaimed, “Did I tell you I’ve been taking cooking lessons.  We could stay here, and I could fix dinner.”

I said, “Liar, liar, pants on fire.”

Cloud laughed and said, “Maybe a little.”

I had called days ago for reservations at Upstairs at 21 located at 21 West 52^nd St.  This was one of the few New York restaurants that appealed to hardcore down home East Texas folks.  We flagged a taxi, settled into the back seat, and teased and poked each other for the balance of the ride in the manner of two people who cared deeply for one another. 

After cocktails, I ordered for us both, as was our pattern.  It gave me the chance to show off my sophistication and Cloud the opportunity to ride me unmercifully if anything was less than perfect.  It was an old game with us, and we both enjoyed it immensely. 

I ordered a 1998 Cheval Blanc, which is definitely a special occasion wine.  The waiters knew Cloud by sight, and the eyes of patrons swept her way on more than one occasion. Age had not affected her bone structure and coloring.  Her rich auburn hair was still breathtaking. 

After the wine steward poured and we both tasted the wine, I began the sales pitch.  “Here is the deal.  A Chinese consortium is trading stolen merchandise for Iranian crude oil.  The intermediary contacted me to arrange for the shipment of two million barrels of Iranian light crude from Iran to India.  I am to sell the product and deposit the proceeds to a numbered Cayman Island account.” 

I paused, took a sip of wine, and collected my thoughts.  “My cut, if everything goes as planned, should amount to about a half mil.  My problem is that there are scary people involved.  My contact is a person from Macau named Chang Wen-biao.  His old man is a crime lord.  Wen-biao planned to get me for peanuts, but old Billy Ray put some East Texas snake oil on him and ate his sack lunch during the negotiations.  It didn’t hurt that an old friend of mine in London brokered the deal and put me onto the arrangement in the first place.  The people from Macau had little choice but to do the deal, but I fear they may just try to stick it to Billy Ray before this gig is finished.”

Cloud waited for the next shoe to fall.  “And what is my role in this chapter in the life of Billy Ray Calhoun?”

I grinned.  “Your role in this deal is to have a great vacation and help me fight depression.  Unfortunately, there is not enough money in this gig to get excited.  I will see that you get fifty grand for your time and trouble, and I will pick up the tabs.  Hopefully, we will have some free time to enjoy the South of France.”

      Cloud took out her compact and repaired some of the dinner damage.  Then she said, “It sounds like a deal to me.  I need to make some business arrangements.  When do we leave for Monte Carlo?”

“How about the middle of July?” I answered.  “Did I mention that this gig is in Monte Carlo?”

“I recall something along those lines,” answered Cloud.

*****

The evening ended with our sharing grappa as an aperitif.  We took a taxi back to her apartment for a restful conclusion to the evening.  I lay on the sofa as Cloud undressed and donned her robe. When she returned to the living area, I had succumbed to the food and drink and snored softly.  Cloud covered me with a blanket, sat with my head in her lap, and turned on late night TV.  While her eyes were on a Gunsmoke rerun, her thoughts drifted back to dark places in Northeast Texas.

*****

Twenty-six

“The devil’s agents may be of flesh and blood, may they not?” 

Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

Panic in the Middle Kingdom

13 July 2007

Billy Ray swam in a jumble of disconnected, colorful bits of dreams that destroyed any chance for restful sleep.  Then, for no apparent reason, the mental camera focused on the backside of a nude Cloud McFarland, her auburn hair blowing in an easy breeze.  Her slender waist drew his attention from her magnificent derriere but only briefly.  Just as he was adjusting to the enjoyment of the moment, an evil spirit intruded on the idyllic setting.  Gradually, the picture faded as the intruder persisted in dragging Billy Ray from the world of the semi-conscious to one of full cognizance.  The evil spirit evolved into a chirping phone.

Billy Ray fumbled around for the phone, barely noticing the bare butt of his bed partner.  Finally, he brought the phone to his ear only to find it was upside down.  He righted the instrument and mumbled a greeting.

"Houston, we have a problem," rumbled the guttural, French-accented voice of Big Al Peschier.

Billy Ray mumbled, "What….what?  Who is this?"

"Wake up you hillbilly asshole.  The Iranians have stuck it to us.  Are you listening?"

Billy Ray swung his legs over the side of the bed and managed a controlled stagger to the nearest chair.  "Did you say the Iranians have stuck it to us?"

Big Al growled, "That's what I said.  We checked the oil quality, and the sweet crude turned out to be sour.  It is classified as heavy crude and not very good heavy at that."

Billy Ray opened his eyes widely as the adrenalin flowed into his arteries.  This development was bad.   "What do the Iranians say?"

Big Al answered in a crisp tone, "They say take it or leave it.  They say load up and get out.  What would you expect them to say?  They have the oil and, apparently, control of whatever the Chinese are trading for it.  The Chinese are infidels just like you and me."

Billy Ray scratched his head for a moment.  "Okay, Al, listen up.  The Chinese will blame us for this and try to take the loss out of our cut.  Since the Iranians have screwed us already, we need to cover our losses.  Let the Chinese deal with the Iranians on that end. 

“I figure the Iranians will not talk to the renegades anymore.  If Chang indicates this to be the case, I am going to tell the Chinese that not only did they stiff us on the quality of the oil but the amount as well.  We will swear your boat only contains 1.8M barrels instead of 2M.  We can sell the 200K barrels to make up for our shortfall if there is one.  Can you get the 200K barrels sold without anyone knowing?"

"Hell yes, Billy Ray.  I am so glad you are on my side, you conniving, dishonest bastard.  Right now, I am concentrating on getting that boat filled and out of Iranian waters.  We will raise some hell just for show.  Anything else?"

"I am going to call the Chinese and drop the bomb.  You may see a distant flash out of the East.  Ciao."

Billy Ray covered his bedmate so as not to be distracted.  Now what was her name?  He dialed a number from memory, and soon Mrs. Murphy, Hong Bin-Zhou's executive assistant, answered the phone.  "Good morning, Mrs. Murphy.  This is Billy Ray.  I decided to tell you who is calling ahead of time since you would never recognize my voice."

"Oh, is this statement coming from the man who takes twice as long to pronounce a word as does anyone else on the planet?  How are you doing, Pretty Boy."

"I have been better, Mrs. Murphy, much better.  Is the boss man available?"

""Give me a minute, Billy Ray."  Mrs. Murphy put him on hold and queried Hong Bin-zhou as to his availability.  It was a formality, since she knew he never kept Billy Ray waiting. 

Hong picked up his phone, punched line 5, and spoke.  "Billy Ray, I never realized that you got out of bed this early."

"When you hear what I have to say, you may want to go back to bed and hide your head under a pillow.  The Iranians have stiffed us.  The oil they are loading is heavy crude, not light crude.  That reduces the value by two percent or more. I can't imagine why the Iranians chose to do that since the money can't mean much to them.  Maybe the Ayatollah got up on the wrong side of the bed.  My question is, are you going to divulge the bad news, or shall I?"

Hong rose from his desk and strolled to the picture window.  The gray, dreary portrait of Central London soothed his soul and dampened his discontent as usual.  "I'll call Chang Dong-Hu.  He can deal with his partners.  Maybe they can put some pressure on the Iranians, but I doubt it.  Since we based our deal on percentages, I will just cancel that new suit I ordered and make do with the seventy-five I already have.  When will the tanker be under way?"

Billy Ray responded, "Bin, you will get the same percentage.  It will just be a mite smaller.  I figure the tanker will be underway by morning, your time.  It should be out of Iranian waters within fifteen hours.  I will keep you posted as conditions develop."

"Thanks a million for ruining my day, Billy Ray."

Hong hung up the phone and sat back in his leather covered desk chair.  He processed the circumstances for a moment.  The problem lay with the Iranians.  He and Billy Ray should be on solid ground as far as fulfilling the arrangements on their end.  He pulled his wallet from his coat pocket and extracted a small booklet.  He picked up the phone and dialed.  A deep, bass voice answered the phone.  "Chang."

The bad news traveled from Big Chang to Hao Chun-zhi, from him to Yang Gu-Jun, and then to Zhao Ming-juan.  Finally, Yang terminated the call to Zhao, and prepared to inform the volatile General Ping. Yang sighed deeply.  Ping was the warrior in the group, and his temper was legendary.  He took any slight against him personally, and merciless revenge ensued.  Having no other option, Yang dialed with an encrypted phone and soon heard the voice of Ping, Mu-yao, General of the Northwestern Army of the PLA.  "Greetings Older Brother.  A slight difficulty emerges."  Yang reported the information he had and added, "I am unable to contact the merchant and will not likely do so.  What are your thoughts?"

Ping seethed with rage.  He could barely speak.  "There is no reason for such an insult.  We made the arrangements in good faith.  We fulfilled our responsibilities.  If the merchant is at fault, I will extract vengeance after we conclude the present arrangement.  If any of the others are responsible, complete the deal and then terminate their employment.  Chang Dong-hue lives in a world of crime.  Perhaps, he decided to make a few more dollars for himself.  In fact, I have already decided to terminate the employment of Billy Ray Calhoun when he concludes his usefulness.   If you contact the merchant, let me know immediately."

*****

After speaking with Hao Chun-zhi, Big Chang replaced the encrypted phone on its cradle and stared stonily at the brass dragon poised in the corner of his spacious office.  He rose from his desk chair and began pacing the room, his considerable intelligence searching every nook and cranny for input pertaining to this latest development.  There were so many possibilities, so many opportunities for those involved to create this nagging carbuncle on what should have been a pristine arrangement.  Had not some fool misunderstood the mentality of the power structure in the Middle Kingdom, profits for all would have ensued.  It was not so much the loss of dollars as the loss of lives that would emerge from this foolish slight, and Chang did not want one of them to be Wen-biao or himself.

Finally, Big Chang opened the intercom to his administrative assistant, Kim, Hao-Kue, and spoke.  "Is Feng Jian-Mei in the building?"

"Yes, Mr. Chang.  She is in her office."

"Where is Wen-biao?"

"He is at the Golden Lotus Casino."

"Inform Feng Jian-Mei that she is not to leave the building.  I will call for her when Wen-biao arrives.  Call Chang Wen-biao and inform him that he is to drop whatever he is doing and come to my office immediately."

"Yes, Mr. Chang."

Chang Dong-Hu took a ruled tablet from his desk and began making notes.  It occurred to him that regardless of who was truly at fault here, he must work from the assumption the error in judgment was the work of the Iranians.  They presently controlled the situation; because, they could take the product by force, whether it was machinery or gemstones.  The oil the Iranian fools were in the process of delivering was of no consequence to them at all, but their failure to comply with the letter of the agreement was of great importance to the Chinese.  It was a matter of face. 

After a time, Wen-biao knocked on the door and entered.  "What's up, Pops?"

Big Chang looked up from his labor.  "There is no point in going over this more than once."  He dialed Feng Jian-Mei's extension and told her to come to his office, which was just down the hall on the same floor.  When she arrived, dressed in traditional Chinese attire, Big Chang told them both to find a seat.

Big Chang wasted no time.  "My colleagues across the bay are very displeased, so I am very displeased.  It appears the Iranians chose not to comply in a strict manner with our arrangement.  Hong told me the oil the Iranians are loading on the tanker is not of the quality on which we agreed.  My friends in BeiPan have lost face, and they will retaliate in some way.  Our job is to see no more problems occur and to clean up the remnants.  That includes our friend, Billy Ray.  It would be more trouble than it is worth to include the ship captain in the cleansing process, but the others must go.  That includes my old friend, Hong Bin-zhou.  I will call on the Brown Recluse to perform the task."

Neither Wen-biao nor Jian-mei responded in any way.  Big Chang continued.  "Of course, you must act within the constraints of the deal itself.  Nothing must stand in the way of selling the oil and transferring the funds.  That means Billy Ray is expendable only after he concludes all arrangements, and the conclusion of the venture is just a matter of time.  Afterwards, Calhoun becomes a liability."  Big Change gazed at Chang Wen-biao.  "I assume your shadow will accompany you to Monte Carlo?"

"Pops, Chan, Ya-gong will be by my side.  Maybe Jian-mei can find out the exact timing so we will know when to act."  Turning to Feng Jian-Mei, he continued, "Do you think you could get on your back long enough to get some information?"

Feng Jian-Mei made no expression and continued to observe Chang Dong-hue.

"She will do what is necessary," said Big Chang.  "Now, Wen-biao, relate to me your responsibilities in this matter."

Wen-biao appeared irritated but complied.  "We are to meet with Billy Ray on July 14, at the Hotel De Paris in Monte Carlo.  The ship will deliver the oil to India, where we will sell it at the current market value.  We will deposit the proceeds to a numbered account in the Cayman Islands.  We will monitor the progress of the requirements, and when the final arrangements are completed, we will remove any ties between Chang Enterprises and this entire matter.  You will complete the clean up by sending the Brown Recluse to eliminate the final risk factor, Hong Bin-zhou.  How was that, Pops?"

Chang Dong-Hu patted his son on the shoulder.  "Very good."  There may be hope for you yet.  Feng Jian-Mei will accompany you and lend whatever assistance she can.  I have no idea how our commission will be paid, or if it will be paid at all, but that is the least of my worries.  I want to get out of this state of confusion with our necks.  Be vigilant.  Take nothing for granted.  Keep in constant contact with me to provide information and to receive instructions.  Enterprises rarely go as planned.  Now go.  You have preparations to make."

*****

Twenty-seven

“Believe me, my young friend, there is NOTHING—absolutely nothing—half so much worth doing is simply messing about in boats.”

 Kenneth Grahame

Maryanne

13 July 2007

I sat on a comfortable bench alongside Mossad associate, Joseph Tordo, gazing out over the Monaco Yacht basin.  The passing luxury craft and their inhabitants competed for my attention, but my mind was on matters of greater importance.  Images of death, destruction, and mushroom clouds intruded on my thoughts.

This is the year I can truthfully claim the ubiquitous thirty-nine as my age.  I am tall, strong, and possess symmetrical facial features.  My primary assets are arresting blue eyes, naturally wavy black hair, and an impressive bosom.  On this day, I wore a light blue top and flared trousers that hugged my shapely body in all the right places. I can be a sexual predator, when I choose, and on this day, I chose to be one. 

To help fill the time, I glanced up at the palace resting on the high ground of the principality and imagined the days of Prince Rainier and Princess Grace.  I recalled that Grace Kelly of Philadelphia and Hollywood fame brought a state of global significance to the area.  A bit of the luster of Monte Carlo dimmed with her premature passing, but it was still a healthy resort area.

I spoke in a low, clear voice to my companion.  "If we can pull this off, what do you really know about serving as a deck hand on a working fishing boat?"

Joseph grasped his head in both hands and answered, "Maryanne, Maryanne.  I know as much about tying on fishing lures as I did about herding goats on the West Bank, but I listened carefully and improvised.  You must learn to trust me."

I patted Joseph’s hand to sooth his ruffled feathers.  "You know I trust you.  Otherwise, why would I always choose you as my operations partner?  I asked the question for my own peace of mind, not to question your brilliant performances as a field agent.  Humor me.  Tell me anything."

Mollified, Joseph pretended to sulk but his efforts proved unsuccessful, and a smile forced him to look away. 

I allowed my attention to survey the magnificent condominiums and villas perched on the mountainsides.  It occurred to me that the merely rich did not live in Monte Carlo.  Only the super rich could afford the tab, but there was an abundance of those.  The sheiks and industrialists had to spend their billions somewhere. 

I grinned, as I imagined the look on Joshua Simon's face after he saw the bill for this operation.  He would bitch, moan, and then pay.  I loved Joshua Simon, almost as much and in the same way, as I did my father.  Fortunately, the feeling was mutual. 

I glanced at my watch and offered, "We might as well get this show on the road.  Would you please lead the way to the boat?"

Joseph rose from the bench and ushered me in the proper direction.  Then I recalled the slip number and the name of the fishing yacht.  I began looking for the Coureur de Vague, and I soon saw it in the distance.  An average sized man stood on the deck hosing it with water.  He wore an officer’s cap.  That must be Captain Henin, I thought.  As we drew nearer, I took in his slim body and broad shoulders.  He was very tan, and a shock of sandy hair blew in the breeze.  What a hunk, I reflected.

He looked up from his work and in my direction.  I smiled.  Having spent my life as a beautiful female, I knew that I had his attention.  Now it was simply a matter of implementing the plan.

Joseph and I walked to the edge of the boat.  The Captain stopped hosing the deck and gave me his undivided consideration.  I spoke, "Do we have your permission to come aboard, Captain?"

Since tourists stopped by enquiring about chartering his fishing boat on a regular basis, Captain Kenneth Henin did not hesitate.  He offered his hand to me and exclaimed,   "Please!  Welcome to the Coureur de Vague. 

I strode across the gangplank, stepped down onto the deck, and turned to wait for Joseph.  When he was on board, I introduced myself to Captain Henin using my common alias, Brigitte Jourdan.  Then I introduced Joseph to Henin as Pierre Villon, and we all shook hands.  Captain Henin opened the door to the saloon and ushered Joseph and me inside.  Comfortable sofas lined the walls.  A table with chairs sat near the galley.  Henin offered the sofas to his guest.  Then he said, "Please be comfortable while I secure a glass of wine for us all.  Holding a hose and washing the deck can be exhausting labor."

The captain retrieved a bottle of white wine from the refrigerator.  Then he poured three glasses, and served us.  Ready to get down to business, he brought up a chair and faced us.  "How may I be of service?" He asked.

I knew it would not take long to either succeed or fail in this endeavor, so I jumped off the proverbial cliff.  "You presently have a charter to take three people fishing tomorrow.  They are Mr. Chang, Ms. Feng, and Mr. Calhoun.”

I watched Captain Henin stiffen to some extent, but I continued.  "I am prepared to provide an experienced deck hand for your use on this trip and to add one thousand Euros to your profit margin."

Captain Henin was silent for several seconds.  Then he spoke, "Did I hear correctly?  You wish to put your man on board my ship to prowl around and do only God knows what.  What is going on here?"

I tried to defuse the situation with another bright smile.  "I realize that my request sounds ominous, but we are not terrorists.  We are simple, garden-variety industrial spies.  Your guests may have some information that we can use in our business.  Pierre will not skulk around listening at doors.  He will perform his duties as a deck hand and keep his ears open.  Nothing more.  Additionally, he is an excellent chef and can serve in that capacity as well.  Captain Henin, this is a win-win proposition."

I could almost see the wheels in his brain turning.  If he made a counter-proposal, he had taken the bait.  He sat down his glass, walked over to a window, and watched the traffic for a few moments.  Then he turned, and said, "Pierre, do you know anything at all about serving as a deck hand on an ocean-going fishing boat?"

Pierre answered smoothly, "Captain Henin, I spent much of my youth working on my uncle's fishing boat out of Cherbourg.  In fact, my mother named me after him.  My culinary skills alone would make me an important addition to your crew.  I assure you, I will serve as a full-time employee." 

I watched Henin struggle with the risks and rewards of my offer.  Then he looked me in the eyes and said, "Would the presence of Pierre on this trip be worth three thousand Euros to the lady?"

I gave the impression of giving the matter deep thought, then answered, "No, but I could stretch it to two thousand."

The Captain did not hesitate.  He said, "Done, on one condition."  He smiled and continued, "The condition is you share dinner with me when this is over."

I would have promised him the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, but the prospect of spending an evening with the Captain was an enticing one.  I demurely responded, "That, Captain Henin, would be my pleasure.  Pierre will bring your money and my phone number when he arrives tomorrow.  When would be a good time for him to report?"

Captain Henin replied, "If Pierre can arrive at 11:00 a.m., we should be able to bring his skills up to speed before launch.  I look forward to our association" Then he laughingly added, "Please, don't blow up the ship."

Pierre and I smiled, shook hands with the Captain, and disembarked.  As we moved out of earshot, I commented.  "It is a good thing I was able to charm the concierge at the Hotel de Paris into giving us Chang Wen-biao's schedule.  Otherwise, we would have never had a stroke of luck such as this."

Joseph answered with a straight face.  "What do you mean charm?  You paid him hard cash."

I jabbed him in the ribs.

*****

14 July 2007

Surrounded by spectacular fountains, colorful flowers, and shrubbery trimmed to perfection, I relaxed on a stone bench.  I faced the amazing visual masterpiece that was the Grand Casino of Monte Carlo.  I embraced the world famous view for several minutes and allowed my imagination to roam free.  Then, my gaze slid a little to the right and took in the entrance to the Hotel de Paris.  I always enjoy the small parking lot in front of the hotel graced with Rolls Royces, Massarottis, Bentleys, Ferraris, Lamborghinis, and the occasional Aston Martin.  I wonder, I thought, if the cars really belong to the hotel, since many of the same cars are always there, just arranged differently. 

I smoothed my pastel colored summer dress and shifted my small umbrella to protect my face from the morning sun and unwelcome attention.  I glanced at Pierre Villon in the distance as he strolled up the walk beside the Hotel de Paris toward the entrance to the Hotel Hermitage.  When he reached the crest of the hill, he turned away from the Hotel Hermitage and moved toward a nearby shopping area.

   With professional patience, I kept the Hotel de Paris entrance under surveillance and occasionally glanced at the comments in my small notebook.  I expected Chang Wen-biao and Chan Ya-gong to arrive shortly. 

Mossad contacts in Macau furnished the information I had on each man.  Wen-biao was the son of Chang Dong-hu of Macau.  The father, recognized as Big Chang in Macau, was the head of a large crime syndicate in that city.  His organization, known as Chang Enterprises Limited, had recently associated itself with renegade members of the politburo of the Peoples Republic of China.  We did not know exactly how Chang Enterprises Limited became involved, but that was of little importance.  Dong-hu worked for the primaries in BeiPan, who had concocted this mountain of chaos in the first place.  Wen-biao was here as a representative of his father to keep an eye on Billy Ray Calhoun, a Texas petroleum trader.  Since none of the Chinese knew anything about the international trading of oil, the level of mistrust was high.   Wen-biao's major function was to prevent Calhoun from stealing the tens of millions of dollars involved in the transaction.

Chan Ya-gong, a stone cold killer in his own right, and Wen-biao had remained inseparable since childhood.  Ya-gong's primary function, back in Macau and here in Monte Carlo, consisted of protecting Wen-biao from his own poor decisions and their consequences.  His other responsibilities included keeping Big Chang informed and, occasionally, killing people.  I did not know if he had a target this trip.

The third Hotel de Paris guest of interest to me was Feng Jian-mei.  In truth, we had limited information about her.  She was a high-level officer of Chang Enterprises, Limited, and would arrive later in the morning.  I did not know her duties in this venture, but we assumed that it was to keep an eye on the playboy, Wen-biao.  It appeared Big Chang left little to chance.

 I became alert when a Nice airport limousine pulled to a stop in front of the hotel.  The hotel personnel move quickly to open the doors and retrieve the luggage from the trunk.  I immediately recognized Chang Wen-biao, as he stepped from the limo.   According to my notes, he stood six feet four inches tall, and he looked every inch.  I noted short black hair crowning his markedly handsome features.  He wore gray trousers and a navy pullover shirt.  Wen-biao stopped to peruse the landscape, as did everyone who witnessed the splendor of Monte Carlo for the first time.  Then, he turned and entered the lobby of the Hotel de Paris.  It occurred to me that it was such a shame the soul of a serpent accompanied such a pleasing appearance.

Next, I concentrated on Chan Ya-gong.  He was physically impressive as well.  While he stood only six feet tall, he weighed fifty pounds more than did Wen-biao.  His muscular physique demonstrated that he worked out often and strenuously.  He wore dark brown trousers and a skin colored shirt, which hugged his massive frame.  Individual muscles rippled each time he moved his enormous arms.

The notes from my little black book told me Ya-gong was extremely dangerous.  His reputation in Macau suggested that when one of Chang Dong-hue's enemies met a fatal end, the credit usually landed at the feet of Ya-gong.  However, our intelligence told us the passing of Chang Dong-hue's enemies occurred at the hands of a mysterious and deadly assassin known as the Brown Recluse.  Mossad did not know the identity of that person and our efforts to obtain it met with failure.  I wonder, is Ya-gong the Brown Recluse?

I did know Wen-biao trusted Ya-gong with his life and had done so on more than one occasion.  Strangely, according to my notes, Ya-gong was the stable one, and Wen-biao was emotionally brittle.

Ya-gong disappeared into the hotel.  I rose and strolled across the street to meet briefly with Pierre.  I reiterated my previous instructions, much to the chagrin of Pierre, even though he knew I did it as much for my own benefit as his.  Our agent at the Nice airport reported that Feng Jian-mei and Billy Ray Calhoun were scheduled to arrive on the same plane; however, that had not been the case.  The agent did not see Jian-mei deplane, but soon after the plane arrived, to everyone’s surprise, she appeared exiting a restroom.  Then Jian-mei retrieved her luggage and got into a limo.  The only exiting passenger who even faintly resembled Jian-mei was an elderly man.  I wondered if Jian-mei was the old man in disguise.  Oh well.  That will have to wait for another time.  I thought. 

The Mossad agent at the airport reported additional information that is interesting.  Billy Ray escorted a friend and a very attractive one.  When I learned this choice bit of news, I experienced a brief fit of pique, but it passed quickly.

I assumed Billy Ray and Jian-mei would arrive in Monte Carlo at about the same time.  As planned, I monitored the Hotel de Paris, and Pierre watched the Hotel Hermitage, where Billy Ray was booked.   

Another Nice airport limo arrived before 10:00 a.m., and a tall, striking Asian woman exited.  The woman was dressed in traditional Chinese attire.  Her shoulders were vaguely broader than normal, and her hips somewhat slimmer.  She appeared to be in excellent physical condition for a person of her age who worked at a sedentary job.  However, I was certain she was Feng Jian-mei. 

I recalled from my notes Jian-mei and Wen-biao shared a bitter relationship.  According to Macau sources, it had reached the point, whereby Wen-biao would love nothing better than to eliminate Jian-mei, but she had the protection of Chang Dong-hu.  That explained why they came on different planes.

According to additional information gathered by Mossad, I learned Jian-mei had an undergraduate degree from Macau University, where she graduated number one in her class, and a graduate degree from Cambridge, where she excelled as well.  I wondered why someone like Chang Dong-hu had a female in such a responsible position in his company, which was not consistent with some Chinese culture.  The Chang family is quite interesting.  I pondered.

Dismissing Jian-mei now that she had arrived, I hurried up the walk to the Hermitage.  Upon arriving at my chosen position, I signaled Pierre to leave for the fishing boat.  He needed to be there by 11:00 a.m. and time was short.  I turned back to the Hotel Hermitage only to see the third airport limo pull to a stop.  I took care to avoid unnecessary attention, besides; I could spot Billy Ray Calhoun from a mile away.

Both Billy Ray and his companion exited the cab at the same time.  At over six feet tall, he was as physically impressive as ever.  He was slim yet muscular.  That curious yellow hair and cleft chin completed the package.  I knew from first hand experience he possessed other major physical assets as well.

Of more interest to me was his companion.  She was drop-dead gorgeous.  She approached six feet in height and possessed a school girl figure. A mass of red, wavy hair framed her symmetrical face.  I made a mental note to have our agents do a background check on this woman, and then I watched them disappear into the hotel.

Since all of my chickens were in their nests, I strolled into the lobby of the Hotel de Paris, picked up my key at the desk, and rode the elevator to my floor.  After I entered the room, I fielded a cell phone call from Pierre attesting to the fact that he was on board the Coureur de Vague and was busy learning the fine art of working on a fishing boat.  I disconnected the call, and then I dialed my confederates in Monte Carlo.  I ordered a background check on Billy Ray's female companion through Mossad headquarters in Tel Aviv.  Having accomplished the housekeeping, I retrieved the case files and began to read.

*****

Twenty-eight

…the shadows of our own desires stand between us and our better angels, and thus their brightness is eclipsed.

 Charles Dickens

The Wave Runner

15 July 2007

The Monaco sky was cloudless, and the temperature pleasant.  The sport fishing charter was set to sail at noon.  Chang Wen-biao and Chan Ya-gong arrived at 11:45 a.m. with their overnight gear.  Wen-biao dressed in colorful short pants and cotton top for the event.  Ya-gong wore the same but in subdued earth tones.  Billy Ray and Cloud arrived shortly after.  He sported yellow pants and shirt.  Cloud wore short shorts and a light green cotton shirt emphasizing her impressive bosom.  Wen-biao openly stared.  She represented every fantasy he ever had about classic western beauties. 

After Captain Henin made the introductions, Wen-biao approached Cloud and began to espouse witty comments.  She responded in kind.  Soon, they chatted like old friends.  Just before noon, Jian-mei strolled on board dressed in orange shorts and a halter-top of the same color.  The leisure clothing was a departure from her usual dress.  Billy Ray could not help but notice the perfection of her body and the brilliance of her elusive smile.

The two deck hands, Joseph Tordo and Randy Fantan managed their luggage and took it to the various staterooms for unpacking.  Joseph's dress resembled a waiter more than a deckhand.  He wore long white trousers, a white shirt with blue trim, and a dark blue beret.  Randy wore short pants and a white cotton shirt. 

Conversing amicably, the guests gradually made their way into the saloon area.  Captain Henin joined them and gained their attention.  He said, “Unfortunately, this group does not consist of couples.  Mr. Chang and Miss Feng are business associates.  Mr. Calhoun and Miss McFarland are friends.  Mr. Chan is a single.  Miss McFarland and Miss Feng will share the main stateroom.  Mr. Calhoun, Mr. Chang, and Mr. Chan will have their own sleeping quarters.  Your illustrious captain and his faithful crew will grab some rest on whatever couch is empty at the time.  Is there a problem with the sleeping arrangements?” 

Jian-mei glanced at Cloud and shrugged.  Henin continued, “With any luck, we will enjoy comfort and entertainment for the next twenty-four hours.  I hope we spend most of the time enjoying the ship, the open sea, and the fishing.  Should the arrangement require adjustments, please work out the details in a civilized manner.”

Henin smiled at his own comment, and then he added, “There are snacks and soft drinks available in the galley in addition to libations of a sterner nature.  Pierre will provide a special dinner and breakfast.  At least, that is what he tells me.  We will spend the next few hours underway to secret areas known to harbor an unlimited supply of exciting game fish.  Anyone who believes that might be interested in some prime swampland I own in the Sahara desert.”

With that, everyone chuckled, and Wen-biao asked, “What kind of fish can we expect to find in these waters?”

Captain Henin smiled and answered, “The same kind that are found in the South China Sea.  Only the names are different.  I will provide the local names as we catch them.  We will spend most of our time searching for billed fish.  Occasionally, we find some very nice marlin.  We catch excellent tuna, which provide an exhilarating tussle.  By the way, the name of our ship translates into wave runner in English.  Feel free to use either version.  A smooth passage awaits us, according to the weather report. There is usually plenty of room on the bridge, so feel free to come up and visit whenever you choose.  I anticipate seeing you again when we reach the fishing grounds.  Are there any questions?  If not, we will get underway.  Please enjoy the comforts of the ship."

  

*****

Jian-mei

As the Coureur de Vague slowly motored her way to the mouth of the basin, boats and ships passed nearby moving in the other direction.  One such yacht had two lovely young women aboard without their bikini tops.  They proudly displayed their chests and waved.  Billy Ray, Wen-biao, and the crewmembers clapped in response.  Cloud walked over to me and whispered in my ear.  I was astonished at her suggestion and looked at her askance.  Then I shook my head.  Refusing to take no for an answer, Cloud, with a twinkle in her eye, whispered to me again.  I considered her suggestion once more. Then I thought what the hell?  I followed Cloud’s lead, and we climbed up to the forward deck, strolled past Ya-gong, and arrived at the bow.  We proceeded to remove our shirts and tops.  Our backs were to the men in our own boat, but the yelling and clapping from passing boats told the story.  Finally, as the Coureur de Vague moved past the mouth of the basin, we turned to face the stern as a finale to our impromptu performance.  Then we donned our tops and descended back to the lower deck, to the applause of everyone.

Due to some post event reaction, my exhilaration evolved into a state of melancholy, and I knew not why.  I made my way to the stern of the ship as the voyage began.  What ever possessed me to do that, I thought.  Anyway, it was different, and it was interesting.  I sat in the fighting chair and touched the giant reels and strong rods used in deep-sea fishing.  No experience in my life ever matched the frivolity of such an escapade as this.  High quality leisure time was not something in my experiences.  As far back as I could recall, I had spent my waking hours on serious pursuits.  Catching fish for food would command my attention, but fishing for the sport would take some getting use to.

The others were in the saloon enjoying the anticipation of coming events, so I was out of place hiding in the stern.  I felt compelled to join the others, and I did so.  After all, a large boat is still a small place.

*****

Cloud

I liked the looks of Captain Henin, but then, I just liked men in general.  I felt a pleasant tension between us when he took my hand in greeting.  Afterwards, I went below deck to my assigned stateroom and arranged my clothes and toilet accessories.  While going about these mindless preparations for the coming events, I considered the other passengers.  Wen-biao was physically handsome.  He was obviously bright, and he had large sums of money to provide for his every whim, but my opinion was that those gifts were not enough.  My intuition told me, he suffered from a poor self-image.  His strong-willed father could have something to do with that.  To compensate, Wen-biao required more women, different women, more risk, and he was forever in search of his mother. Well, old friend, I am not your Mama, I thought.

I reflected on Jian-mei.  That girl is infatuated with Billy Ray, I mused.  Like most women, I had sensors unavailable to men.  I could read tones, facial expressions, glances, choice of words, and, oftentimes, I could detect the strain of lying.  I felt not a smidgeon of jealously toward Jian-mei.  Such considerations were not a part of Billy Ray’s and my relationship.  The heat in our love life was long past, and we both were content to be in contact on an intermittent basis, and allow the other to live his or her life the remainder of the time.  It was an unusual affiliation, but an enduring one. 

I walked back up the stairs and noticed Jian-mei was returning from the stern area.  Billy Ray and Wen-biao were verbally sparring.  Ya-gong was nowhere in evidence.  “I could use a really good glass of sour mash, if there is any such thing to be had aboard this luxury vessel,” I said. 

Wen-biao immediately rose and moved to the bar where he found a bottle of Jack Daniel’s.  He said, “I can’t imagine why anyone would want to drink this stuff, but whatever the lady wants, the lady gets.”

“I hear that,” said Billy Ray.  He watched the tall Chinese splash three fingers over ice, add a napkin, and hand the glass to me.  Then Billy Ray turned to Jian-mei and asked, “Would you care for a drink?”

“I will have one of the same,” answered Jian-mei in a stilted voice.  It was as if she could barely speak.

*****

Billy Ray

Wen-biao ignored Jian-mei’s request, took Cloud by the arm, and guided her to an inviting sofa.  I grimaced at his manners, and then I prepared Jian-mei’s drink and one for myself.  I ushered her to a seat across the room from Wen-biao and Cloud.  I found it strange that she would hardly look at me.  “Tell me something,” he asked in a low voice.  “Is my deodorant failing?” 

Jian-mei flinched, and then she finally looked me straight in the eyes.  I could read deep emotion there, and for the life of me, I could not imagine what had happened that could be so traumatic for this woman.  I took her hand, and she did not withdraw it.  She continued to gaze into my eyes as if searching for something, but could not bring herself to voice her feelings.  “It’s just one of those days,” she murmured.  “I am sorry for being such a spoil sport.  I don’t know much about deep-sea fishing.  There is little time for frivolities in my life.”

I released her hand.  “I am getting the impression having fun has not been a large part of your life.”

“I am not sure I fully understand the concept of the term, having fun,” smiled Jian-mei.  “Catching fish I don’t plan to eat is a waste of time.  I could be checking balance sheets and planning business operations.”

I moved a bit closer.  Jian-mei did not retreat.  “One cannot enjoy the sight of a Mediterranean moon while balancing spread sheets.  One cannot feel a large desperate animal on the other end of a line fighting for its life.  You must have lived a sheltered existence.  You seem to have lost the capacity for enjoyment.”

Jian-mei turned to stare out the window of the cabin at the smooth sea.  She turned back to me and said, “You have no idea.  I would never describe my life as being sheltered.  Perhaps we should join the others.  I could use another Jack and water.”

I noticed her drink was empty.  I took her glass, placed it in the sink, and made her a fresh one.  By the time, I finished with the preparation of the libation; Jian-mei was conversing with Cloud and appearing to be enjoying herself.  I delivered the drink and turned to Wen-biao.

*****

Wen-biao

I enjoyed looking at Billy Ray. I embraced the thought of Ya-gong crushing the life out of him.  However, that event was in the future, and there was still business to do.  I smiled my perfect smile, and asked Billy Ray, “Are you much of a fisherman?”

Billy Ray spoke in a casual tone, “A lawyer friend in Houston has a nice fishing boat.  He invites me out a couple of times each year, when I can find the time.  I reciprocate by serving as a deck hand.  Fishing in the Gulf of Mexico is different from the Mediterranean.  The blue water can be a hundred miles off shore in Texas or as close as thirty.  Obviously, the Med’s fishing waters are much closer to land.”

I responded, “Perhaps we could make this trip a bit more interesting.  We can take turns in the chair, and the one who lands the largest fish can pick up the price of the charter.  What do you think?”

“I am thinking you are already out the price of the charter, since you made it.  However, if you want to go double or nothing, count me in.  If you lose, you pay the charter and an equal amount to me.  If I lose, I will pay for the charter.

I struggled to keep my temper in check.  I so wanted to crush his pretty face and feed him to the sharks, but my gambling instincts kicked in, and I could not resist the opportunity to get Billy Ray’s money and humiliate him in the process.  “Consider this version?  We split the price of the charter and then make the bet.  That way, the loser is out one hundred and fifty percent of the charter.  The winner is only out one-half of the charter.”

Billy Ray extended his hand.  “Done,” he said.  How about we let the ladies do the fishing during the afternoon session.  You and I can fish in the morning.”

“Fine,” I answered.  With that, I approached Cloud, took her arm, and escorted her out onto the deck to take in the smell of the sea air. 

*****

Pierre

I enjoyed the sea breeze in my face.  It reminded me of my tour of duty in the Israeli Navy.  The fact that I had exaggerated my boating experience was coming back to haunt me.  Most of the time, I had no idea what was expected of me in the way of preparing the equipment and aiding the guests.  In truth, I didn’t have an uncle, and I didn’t know one end of a fishing rod from the other.  I had liberally picked Randy Fantan’s mind, while my shipboard tutor explained the plans for the fishing charter.   Even so, I had to be careful, since I could not make Randy suspicious of my ignorance of seafaring ways.  I had hoped to use common sense to master the majority of these tasks, and I planned to observe Randy carefully to master the other techniques.  I decided to assume the role of a fool and incompetent.  That would not be difficult under the circumstances. 

*****

Captain Henin

I was quite busy on the bridge monitoring the GPS, sonar, and automatic pilot.  The craft was moving out to sea at a brisk pace toward the deep trough that ran off the Riviera.   Once there, we would troll for billfish and catch whatever lady luck sent our way. 

I had given little thought to Joseph Tordo, since he had come on board and handed me two thousand Euros in cash.  My clients were an interesting lot.  There appeared to be tension among members of the group, but this was not my first charter.  I had run the gamut of strange personalities during my years at sea.  At least, the scenery would be pleasing.  The two women were sensational.  The only thing that really bothered me was that I kept expecting the big Chinese to stop doing pushups on the bow, but he continued for what seemed an eternity.  He had been at it for thirty minutes and showed no signs of stopping.  I thought, I would sure hate to get that man angry with me.   Just to be sure, I checked the location of the hidden sawed-off shotgun on the bridge.  It was in place.

*****

Twenty-nine

She was beginning to understand that evil is not absolute, and that good is often an occasion more than a condition. 

Gilbert Parker

Fish On

 15 July 2007 

After three hours of traveling at thirty-one knots on a smooth sea, Captain Henin throttled back and brought the vessel to trolling speed.  He put the Coureur de Vague on auto pilot and climbed down to the lower deck.  The passengers were in various stages of conversation or resting.  Only Jian-mei was missing.  He spoke to the guests in a friendly manner, “We have reached one of the fishing grounds, so it is time for me to earn my fee.  Our crew will rig lines on three rods that will run directly behind the ship.  The outriggers will deploy two more lines.  I will troll the boat in a weaving pattern.  It will be obvious when a fish strikes a lure.  Just yell out.  Randy and Joseph will provide any assistance you might need to land the fish.  I will endeavor to steer the boat in such a way as to assist the person in the chair.  I suggest we allow the women to fish first.  I will flip a coin.  Heads it will be Cloud.  If tails comes up, Jian-mei will take the first turn.”  Kenneth flipped the coin and showed the results to Wen-biao. 

“Tails,” he called out.  Jian-mei joined the others on deck and had no idea she would be the first in the chair. 

Soon, the ship settled into the routine of deep-sea fishing, and even Jian-mei began to feel a modicum of disquiet, as they all waited for the first strike.  After twenty minutes of watching the lures skip across the surface of the sea, the attention of the intrepid anglers gradually evolved to other pursuits.  Wen-biao, who was easily bored, went indoors for beer.  Randy Fantan moved back and forth between the rigs making sure they were all functioning smoothly.  Joseph Tordo posed on deck with a cigarette held between thumb and forefinger in the Continental style.  It would have appeared less comical were it not so obvious he did not smoke on a regular basis.  He managed to cough on each puff.  Captain Henin observed his actions and decided it might be wise to keep an eye on Joseph.

Just about the time the guests were bored to the point of  seeking other pursuits, Fantan yelled, “Poisons dessus.”

Captain Henin followed immediately with, “fish on.  Are you ready, Jian-mei?  You people get those other lines out of the water.”

Striving to be helpful, Joseph removed the rod from the holder, and the powerful fish drug him toward the stern.  Randy, seeing the rod was not taking any pressure off the line, took the rig from Joseph and immediately elevated the rod tip.  During the process, he peered at Joseph suspiciously.  Joseph did not react but lit another cigarette.  He noticed Billy Ray was reeling in one of the rigs, so he began doing the same with another rod and reel.

After securing the rod and reel, Billy Ray helped Jian-mei get strapped into the fighting chair, and then Randy placed the rod into the chair port, admonished her to keep the rod tip high, and handed the rig off to her.  Cloud was in the background jumping up and down with excitement.

Jian-mei allowed the rod to bend toward the horizon, but Billy Ray yelled at her to keep it high.  She forced it back up and began reeling as fast as she could.  Then the large fish made a run and began stripping off line.  Jian-mei almost lost her composure.  She screamed at the fish in Mandarin Chinese and pulled on the rod.  Finally, she was able to reel once again.  It made sense to pull the rod high, then for her to reel rapidly as it went down.  She continued to do this with some success until the fish made another run.  When this happened, Kenneth Henin put the gears in reverse and slowly backed up with the fish.  When Jian-mei finally gained control once more, the Captain moved the ship forward at a slow speed to help keep the line tight.    

The minutes passed, and Jian-mei used every ounce of her considerable strength to fight the big fish.  Sweat began streaming down her face, but it never occurred to her that she could give up the seat.  After an extended period, she gradually began making headway.  She pumped and reeled, pumped and reeled.  By this time, everyone was yelling encouragement.  Even Wen-biao found himself caught up in the excitement.  At the forty-minute mark, Jian-mei had the big fish within sight.  Kenneth Henin screamed, “Marlin.  Randy, can you reach the leader?”

Just as Randy was working toward the leader, the billfish sounded once more, and Jian-mei found some reserves of strength left to rejoin the fight.  After about fifteen additional minutes, she was able to bring the fish back to the boat.  Joseph stood ready with a gaff hook, but Kenneth yelled for him to leave it to Randy, who managed to bring the huge fish alongside for everyone to see and for a couple of photographs.  Then he cut the leader, and with a flip of its powerful tail, the white marlin sank from view.

It took a moment for guests and crew alike to let go of the recent rush of excitement.  Finally, Billy Ray asked the Captain, “How much do you think it weighed?”

Captain Henin thought for a minute, “I believe it weighed more than 100 kilos.”

While Billy Ray was doing the math in his head, Cloud chirped, “That’s over two hundred pounds.  Jian-mei, I am so impressed.”

Jian-mei rubbed her arms, vacated the fighting chair, and said, “Cloud, the next one is yours.  In fact, the next two are yours.”

Everyone chuckled.  Captain Henin ordered his crew to make the rigs ready for more fishing.  Joseph watched Randy carefully and between the two of them, the boat was trolling again in short order.  No more than fifteen minutes passed before a rig monitored by Joseph showed some activity.  He yelled, “Fish on.”  Everyone began scrambling to clear in the other rigs, and get Cloud established in the fighting chair. 

While Cloud did not possess Jian-mei’s conditioning, she was an East Texas girl, and strong enough.  After having joined Billy Ray on several gulf trips, she knew her way around a fighting chair.  She began reeling and found she did not need to pump.  It only took about fifteen minutes for her to bring the forty-pound tuna within gaffing distance.  Randy grabbed the leader, which forced Pierre to use the gaff.  He struck at the fish only to have the point slide off the scales.  Randy screamed at him to hook the fish in the gills.  Pierre proceeded to do so. Then to everyone’s surprise, he easily heaved the heavy, wriggling fish onto the deck. 

“We will keep this one,” said Henin, and Randy took the gaff from Joseph and hauled the big fish into a chest filled with ice.  The fishing excitement energized everyone, and since the anglers knew the routine, the Coureur de Vague was soon trolling once again. 

Cloud landed an amberjack and a nice Dorado without encountering problems.  Jian-mei recovered to the point where she took over the chair at the next strike only to see a beautiful sailfish come leaping out of the water and dance on its tail.  She bravely battled the prize until, for some unknown reason, the line went slack.  Jian-mei broke out into an eruption of Mandarin Chinese that could have only been profanity.  Billy Ray was somewhat shocked at the outburst, since he had never observed anything but decorum where she was concerned.  It made him smile.  Ya-gong covered his mouth in mirth as well.

 

*****

As the women fished, Pierre retreated to the comfort of the galley and began preparing dinner.   There was plenty of beef on board but not much in the way of spices.  Having anticipated such a condition, he had brought the necessary seasoning for the dinner dish.  He retrieved them from his gear and began utilizing his culinary skills.  He decided on Boeuf Bourguignon Sauté, a popular dish that would not take long to prepare.  The side dishes would be mashed potatoes and sliced tomatoes.  He removed his beret, replaced it with a chef’s hat, and began to work.

Periodically, the noise level from the deck rose for several minutes as someone hooked a fish, and then it receded when the angler or fish concluded the battle.  As the sun dropped in the west, Wen-biao and Cloud made their way back into the saloon and found bottles of Treana 2003 Mer Soleil opened and waiting.  They filled their glasses with the white wine and retreated to comfortable seats.  Soon, Billy Ray and Jian-mei came in and helped themselves to the wine.  “Very good,” said Billy Ray after a healthy sip. 

Pierre smiled and continued his culinary efforts.  In the galley, he did not look so out of place in his long pants and chef’s hat.  Randy, without the help of the bungling Pierre, soon had the gear stored.  Captain Henin prepared the ship for a night of comfort, and then he joined the others for cocktails and dinner. 

After a reprieve from the physical activity of the day by the guests, and following minute dissections of every fishing skirmish, Pierre presented the dinner wine, which was Domaine Saint Gayan 2004.  Following  the pouring, he prepared each plate and delivered them to the waiting guests and crew.  “This is one of my favorite dishes.  It is Boeuf Bourguignon Sauté served with mashed potatoes and sliced tomatoes.  I hope you will find it pleasant on your pallate.” 

The Captain took a portion of beef into his mouth and smiled broadly.  “This is excellent, Pierre!  Your cooking skills are only surpassed by your fishing proficiency.”  Everyone had a laugh at Joseph’s expense.  He smiled in a good-humored way.

*****

After dinner, Billy Ray invited Jian-mei to join him for a breath of sea air on the deck.  She answered by going out the door, and he followed.  They made their way to the bow and found some seats there.  The sun was gone, and a half-moon rose.  The stars appeared to twinkle with a special brilliance.  Both were comfortable with their thoughts for a while, and then Jian-mei whispered, “Now I can define fun.  Catching those fish was so thrilling, and it was for no good reason other than the pleasure.”  She turned and looked at Billy Ray, “Having fun could get addictive.”

“Yes it can.  We Americans work hard so we can enjoy our leisure time in some meaningless way like fishing.  We are one of the first countries where the masses spend so much time and energy doing nothing of value, but it sure seems to work well for us.”

They were quiet for a time.  Billy Ray turned to say something to Jian-mei but found that the energy she had expended fishing had finally taken its toll.  She had fallen asleep.  Billy Ray returned to his own thoughts and let the minutes, and then the hours pass.  Finally, Jian-mei jerked awake.  After she decided where she was, she laid her hand on Billy Ray’s arm. “I am so sorry.  I was up late last evening.  Please excuse me.  I will see you in the morning.”

Billy Ray watched, as she made her way back down to the main deck and disappeared into the saloon.  I guess this will not be the night, he thought.  After rising and stretching, Billy Ray decided to find his own bunk.  When he walked back into the saloon, Captain Henin was sipping a cup of coffee and reading a local paper.  “Well it seems my sleeping assignments were spot on.  Jian-mei joined Cloud in the women's room.  That leaves you to your own room.  I guess we can't win them all,” he laughed quietly.

“Thanks a lot, Captain.  I suppose you will need to roust us by 6:00 A.M., since Wen-biao insists on this fishing contest."

"You can count on it," answered the Captain.  "We must be underway on our return trip by 9:00 a.m., if we are to get back to port in time for our next charter.  Good night, Mr. Calhoun!”

 “Good night Captain Henin.”

*****

Thirty

Anger’s my meat; I sup upon myself, and so shall starve with feeding. 

William Shakespeare

Once in a lifetime

 16 July 2007 

Captain Henin gazed out over the Mediterranean Sea and evaluated the weather conditions for the upcoming day of fishing.  It appeared perfect at this point.  A few cumulous clouds crept across the morning sky.  The wind had freshened a bit over night.  While the ship reacted little to the low swells, the glassy calm of the previous day was absent. 

The unmistakable odor of bacon and eggs made its way to the nostrils of Captain Henin.  He decided it was time to roust out his customers, and prepare them for the final hours of angling.  He climbed down from the bridge, knocked on each door, and announced breakfast.  After allowing the guests time to move from the world of sleep to that of an ordinary day on a luxurious fishing ship, the guests began emerging from the staterooms. 

*****

Billy Ray came up first and grabbed a cup of hot, black coffee. He noticed Pierre was busy preparing breakfast.  The Frenchman was jovial and had his chef’s hat in place.  Jian-mei soon followed looking lovely in light green shorts and top.  Wen-biao emerged in fresh togs having obviously just stepped from the shower.  Finally, Cloud made her entrance, but it was worth the wait.  She was devastating in a beige outfit with orange highlights.

After the guests had coffee, Pierre announced, “We are having oeufs et lard with freshly baked croissants and jam.  I do hope you will be pleased.”

Captain Henin entered the saloon and said, “Pierre, I don’t usually employ a ship’s cook, but in your case, I would make an exception.  You really know your way around a galley.”  Then he turned to the others and said, “The equipment is ready for fishing; however, we must be heading back to Monte Carlo by 9:00 a.m. in order to make our next charter.  I understand a matter of sport is underway, and there is a small wager on the outcome.  First, I will flip a coin.  Wen-biao, you may call the toss.”  Henin flipped the coin, caught it, and held it to the back of his other hand.

“Heads,” barked Wen-biao as he wolfed down his breakfast.

“And heads it is,” said the Captain.  “Wen-biao, you will be first in the chair, or you can designate Billy Ray as the first fisherman; however, there is one point I must emphasize.  We do not actually land the billfish.  According to sport fishing bylaws, if we touch the leader while the fish is still on, it is a catch.  If we do not touch the leader with the fish still on, it is not a catch.  Understood?”

“I will fish first.  Just get the equipment ready,” answered Wen-biao as he moved toward the stern and the chair.  Randy already had them ready by the time everyone came to the fishing area.  Henin had the sea anchors on board and the twin diesels humming.  He began trolling in a lazy weaving pattern.  Everyone’s eyes were on the lures as they skipped across the sea. 

Wen-biao did not have to wait long.  Randy yelled out, and Wen-biao jumped in the fighting chair.  While he strapped himself in, Randy quickly transferred the rod to the holder, and the contest commenced.  The powerful Wen-biao only used about fifteen minutes to reel in the first catch of the day.  It was a thirty-pound Dorado, which Randy added to the ice chest.  “We call this mahi-mahi in Macau.  What do you call it here,” asked Wen-biao?

Captain Henin answered.  “We call it Dorado.  Billy Ray, you call it dolphin, do you not?”

Billy Ray smiled and answered, “We usually call it dolphin, but are beginning to use the Pacific name, mahi-mahi, since our seafood restaurants use it.  Well, I guess it’s my turn.” 

Soon the lines were back out, and forty-five minutes passed before the next strike.  Billy Ray grabbed the chair, took the rod, and began expertly fighting the fish.  Captain Henin used the boat to the best of his considerable ability and after twenty minutes, Randy gaffed a forty-pound tuna.

“It appears I am in the lead,” said Billy Ray.

Wen-biao snarled and yelled at Randy to get the lines out.  Time passed rapidly.  It was past 8:00 a.m. and Wen-biao must land a larger fish if he was to win the bet.  “Come on.  Hit it,” he screamed at the open sea, and finally something did.

Wen-biao strapped himself into the chair and began reeling, but to no avail.  The powerful aquatic adversary began stripping off line, and Wen-biao could not turn the fish.  The only reason the big fish did not strip all of the line from the reel was that Henin kept backing up the boat and taking pressure off Wen-biao.  Finally, after what seemed an eternity, the fish moved back toward the boat.  Wen-biao reeled frantically, and the physical effort was taking its toll.  Sweat poured down his face, and his biceps bulged at the effort.  Just as he was making real headway, the fish sounded once again.  Wen-biao and Henin could do little to stop it.

Billy Ray decided it was time to place a small burr under Wen-biao’s saddle.  “Wen-biao, if you are getting tired, I could land the fish for you.” Wen-biao answered with a plethora of Chinese shrieks that brought a frown to Jian-mei’s face.  Billy Ray smiled and turned up his palms.  “I was only trying to help.”

Finally, the tide turned in favor of Wen-biao, and it appeared he would land the fish.  The time was 8:45 a.m., and the big fish was tiring.  It rolled near the boat.  Captain Henin yelled, “It’s a swordfish, and it’s a monster.  It must go two hundred kilos.”

Pierre, ever helpful, managed to grab the line short of the leader in an attempt to bring the fish closer.  The fish had other ideas and made a lunge.  Pierre flew over the stern into the sea.  Captain Henin screamed, “Man overboard.”  He immediately reversed the engines in order to pick up Pierre.  Billy Ray threw a life preserver to Pierre who had the good sense to grab it.  Randy was soon able to pull him to safety, and Pierre clambered back on board the ship.

Unfortunately, the slack line was all the big fish needed.  It turned and made one more dash for freedom.  Wen-biao was helpless.  The swordfish snapped the rod off at the base taking lure, line, and reel out of his hands.  The only reason Wen-biao did not follow was that he was strapped in the chair.  “That was a catch.  That was a catch,” he screamed.  “I caught the fish. This fool is to blame,” pointing at Pierre.

Wen-biao removed the restraints from the chair, lunged toward Pierre, and took a roundhouse swing.  Unperturbed, Pierre grabbed his arm, swept Wen-biao’s feet from under him, and sent him crashing to the deck.  Wen-biao looked around, found Ya-gong, and shrieked, “Kill him.  Kill him.”

The big Chinese started down the ladder from the bridge.  Captain Henin had no idea of his intentions, and the rack of injecting a shell into the pump shotgun sounded audibly.  Henin was not pointing the gun at anyone, but he had everyone’s attention.  “No one is going to kill anyone.”

Ya-gong waved a brief salute at the Captain, continued his way down the ladder, and resumed his efforts to manage Wen-biao.  He took him by the arm and tried to lift him to his feet.  Wen-biao jerked his arm away and attempted to strike Ya-gong, who caught his fist in mid-flight.  “Enough,” barked Ya-gong, and Wen-biao appeared to deflate.  He had been down this road before and knew when to stop.  He allowed Ya-gong to lead him into the saloon and downstairs to the cabins.

“Well what do you know? It’s 9:00 a.m. and I win.  Shall we go?” asked Billy Ray.

Wen-biao spent the first two hours of the journey back to port in his cabin.  Then he appeared in the saloon, found Cloud, and took her out on deck.  Acting as if nothing had happened, he said to Cloud, “I have a great idea for tomorrow, and I wanted to share it with you.  Would you enjoy visiting the Riviera?” He asked.  “We could rent a car and go to the beach.  Maybe have a picnic.  What do you think?”

“I think that’s a wonderful idea,” answered Cloud.

*****

Maryanne Passeron waited patiently while Joseph Tordo, a.k.a. Pierre Villon, extracted himself from the Coureur de Vague and made his way to an outdoor restaurant overlooking the basin.  She grinned when he came close.  “You look a little out of sorts, Joseph.  Couldn’t you get the worm on the hook?”

“Maryanne, if you ever put me in a situation like that again, I will sell out to the Arabs.”

Maryanne laughed.  She loved Joseph in a truly professional way.  He was adaptable to situations and good at his job.  Besides, he could be so funny.

Joseph continued, “I wish there was some startling revelation I could add to your storehouse of knowledge, but this was a long shot from the beginning.  Cloud kept Wen-biao occupied except when he tried to kill me.  Fortunately, Captain Henin came to the rescue.  By the way, I did deliver your phone number as you requested.”

“Good,” said Maryanne.  “I may have to use my feminine wiles on him to gather valuable information.”

“Maryanne, admit it.  You are just a horny woman on the prowl.”  Maryanne threw a French fry at Joseph.  He laughed, and then he continued, “Billy Ray seems solid.  Cloud appears well suited for her job, if it is to get men into bed.  Jian-mei is an interesting character.  If one looks closely, one can see she is quite a physical specimen in many ways.  While she looks great, she is very strong.  Such strength could only come from heavy workouts.  I suspect she is a martial artist.  She got very excited during the fishing, but when matters became dicey with Wen-biao and Ya-gong, she was as calm as could be.  No reaction whatsoever.”

Joseph continued the debriefing until Maryanne was satisfied, then she went back to the Hermitage.  We shall see what we shall see, she thought.

*****

Thirty-one

“That’s the way we all begin,” said Tom Platt.  “The boys they make believe all the time till they’ve cheated ‘emselves into bein’ men, an’ so till they die – pretendin’ an’ pretendin’ ”

Rudyard Kipling

The Louis XV Restaurant

 16 July 2007

Upon returning to the Hotel de Paris Wen-biao called the desk and requested a bellman, who quickly arrived at his door.  Wen-biao picked up an envelope from the desk and handed it to the bellman.  "This is a personal message for Billy Ray Calhoun, who is staying at the Hermitage.  A return message is required."  He handed the bellman a significant tip and sent him on his way.  An hour passed before the same bellman delivered an envelope containing a note indicating Billy Ray and Cloud would join Wen-biao and Jian-mei for dinner at the Louis XV Restaurant.  Wen-biao rang up the concierge and booked dinner. 

As he dressed in his favorite Hong Kong suit with a Harvard tie, Wen-biao considered the upcoming evening.  He decided to throw Billy Ray off the track by being especially nice and cooperative.  After all, the hillbilly was a dead man.  After dinner, Wen-biao would leave the others behind and enjoy a night with Cloud.

The local time was 10:10 p.m., so Wen-biao could be fashionably late.  When he arrived at the entrance to the Louis XV restaurant, he found he was the only member of the dinner party that had arrived. After a brief period highlighted by Wen-biao's increasingly perturbed state, Jian-mei appeared.  They did not speak.  Billy Ray soon appeared accompanied by Cloud.

Wen-biao stuck his hand out to Billy Ray with a big smile on his face.  "Billy Ray, shall we put our past differences aside and enjoy one of the world's great restaurants?"

Billy Ray smiled in return and offered, “That’s a fine idea, Wen-biao.  In fact, if you will be so kind as to settle our bet, I will buy dinner tonight for the four of us.  How does that sound?”

“I am way ahead of you, Billy Ray,” answered Wen-biao.  He reached into his breast pocket and retrieved a cashier’s check for the amount of the wager.  He passed it to Billy Ray, whose smile beamed even brighter.

*****

Thirty-two

Yet I  am not more sure that my soul lives, than I am that perverseness is one of the primitive impulses of the human heart – one of the indivisible primary faculties, or sentiments, which give direction to the character of Man.

Edgar Allan Poe

Billy Ray

16 July 2007

I nodded without expressing emotion and shook Wen-biao's hand. Then I turned my attention to Jian-mei.  She was dressed in a bright yellow cocktail dress with matching accessories.  The dress enhanced her coloring and flawless skin.  She looked exquisite.  I offered my hand and said, "You look ravishing, Feng Jian-mei."

Wen-biao took Cloud's hand in his and accompanied her to the entrance of the Louis XV restaurant, leaving Jian-mei and me to our own devices.  We joined them and while waiting for our seating, Wen-biao plied Cloud with questions and related anecdotes.  Not one to lose ground, I smiled warmly at Jian-mei, and she returned in kind.  Soon we all sat at a table in the middle of the room surrounded by waiters.

A swarm of serving specialists moved about the room.  There was a handsome young Frenchman for every need.  Identifying the headwaiter was not always easy.  Finally, one of the attentive young men presented a wine list, and I did the honors.  After winning Wen-biao’s money on the fishing bet, I chose 1988 Krug Clos du Mesvil Champagne for immediate consumption and a fine 1990 Romanee Conti La Tache for dinner.

Cloud's beauty and presence pacified Chang Wen-biao.  It was as if Jian-mei and I did not exist.  He began a litany of clever anecdotes about the Far East; giving the impression the world was his oyster.  Then he introduced a series of subtle questions designed to explore the relationship between Cloud and me.  He was almost giddy when Cloud explained we were old friends and nothing more.  The ploy was our time-tested diversion used to set up Cloud and her target.  After Wen-biao established that he and Cloud would visit the Casino after dinner, he managed to rejoin the group on a limited basis. 

"So," Wen-biao said to me. "Are arrangements for the oil shipment and the sale in India completed?"

I ignored his question.  "May I ask if your people contacted the Iranians about the quality of the crude?"

Wen-biao grimaced and said, "We are unable to reach our Iranian associates at this time but have decided to go with what we have," replied Wen-biao.  He smiled at Cloud, and then he turned back to me.  "The heavy crude substituted for the light crude will only marginally affect us.  There is still sufficient money involved."

The part about being unable to contact the Iranians was what I wanted to hear.  It was obvious the Iranians were no longer communicating with the renegade Chinese. There was no way for the Chinese to check anything I tell Wen-biao. 

Embracing the opportunity, I continued, "To answer your question, my contact in India has a buyer for the oil.  He will transfer the funds, less my fees, to your bank."

Wen-biao tore his eyes away from Cloud long enough to say, "Suppose you just give me the name of the broker, and I will arrange for the culmination of this affair.” 

I turned to Jian-mei.  "Did I mention how lovely you look?  Yellow is my favorite color."  She smiled and then I turned back to Wen-biao.  "As far as this deal is concerned, the broker's name is Billy Ray Calhoun.  None of my contacts would even talk to anyone else regarding this transaction.  That is the way of international trade.  I will complete the transaction and disperse the funds as agreed." 

Chang Wen-biao's countenance darkened somewhat, as I continued,  "To make bad matters worse, Albert Peskier, the owner of the tanker, reports the Iranians have managed to deduct even more profit from our side of the ledger."

Chang Wen-biao blanched and said, "Now what?"

I gazed at Wen-biao and said in a serious manner, "The Iranians did not load two million barrels of crude in our tanker.  The bill of lading produced by the Iranians shows they loaded only 1.8 million barrels.  When the captain inquired about the missing oil, the port authorities ordered him to weigh anchor and leave Iranian waters.  That reduces the value of the oil by another five percent.  I suggest your people contact the Iranians for an adjustment."

Wen-biao responded in what he intended to be a cool, businesslike manner, "Naturally, I will report the discrepancy to my father.  Chang Enterprises, Limited is interested in finalizing this deal to the best of our ability, since there is little profit in it for us."

By this time, I decided Wen-biao needed some positive vibes or he would self-destruct.  I smiled at him and said, "We will get through this with profits for all.  Now, enough business!  Shall we order?"  Wen-biao turned crimson and picked up his menu.

The dinner progressed through the superb courses.  Waiters appeared to anticipate every need.  I noticed Jian-mei was highly knowledgeable about French food.  I also noticed she appeared very alert to all conversations.  I engaged her in polite conversation while Wen-biao did a conversational mating dance with Cloud.  Jian-mei answered my queries in some detail but told me nothing of substance.  She was a master of sparkling commonplace conversation but did it in an entertaining manner, so the dinner went smoothly. 

I had just taken a bite of my peach melba, when I noticed the backside of a tall, striking woman in a black cocktail dress sauntering to her table.  She looked familiar.  Then she turned and smiled.  Great God!  I thought.  It is Brigitte Jourdan.  I barely maintained my composure, nodded in response to her amused glance, and then turned my attention back to Jian-mei.  She appeared engrossed in comments from Cloud. 

Soon the interlude wound down.  Wen-biao was more than ready to get Cloud to himself.  He made a perfunctory offer to Jian-mei and me to join them in the Grand Casino, but we both begged off.  The newly formed couples expressed good evenings and went our separate ways.  When we were in the lobby, I suggested a walk, and Jian-mei agreed. 

We strolled up the hill that made up the striking park culminating in the Grand Casino. Our small talk continued.  After a bit, Jian-mei stopped and turned to observe the Casino.  When she did, I kissed her softly on the lips.  She made no effort to stop me and even responded in an almost indistinguishable way.  Since I was convinced Wen-biao used Jian-mei in the same way as I did Cloud, I decided to get the game started.  "I would like for us to spend time together tonight," I whispered. 

Jian-mei leaned against me and spoke.  "Perhaps another time.  It's been a long day, and I still must attend to some business."  Then she smiled. 

For some indefinable reason, I liked her style.  I kissed her again with a measure of passion and she responded.  Then I asked, "Can I count on the 'some other time' part?"

"You may," she said.

Sensing that the night for us had ended, we strolled leisurely to Jian-mei's room, where she said good night. 

*****

I walked back down to the lobby and decided to have a nightcap.  I had just ordered Jack Daniels on the rocks when a soft hand touched my shoulder.  I turned and looked into the striking eyes of Brigitte Jourdan.  Her hair was shorter than in London, but the grace and bone structure were the same.  I rose, kissed her lips lightly, and invited her to sit down.  She did.

The night was looking up.  I spoke to Brigitte, "My, my.  You are a young lady who gets around and looks better each time I see you."

She gave me a penetrating gaze with her stunning blue eyes.  Then she said, "I am stalking you.  Haven't you noticed?  What are you doing here?" 

She is already interrogating, I thought.  "Just business!  I am still trying to make a buck.  I placed a forefinger against my head and looked upward. "Now let me see.  Would you like a nice glass of Chateauneuf du Pape to remind you of home?"

Brigitte squeezed my arm.  "You remembered, you sweet man."

Having no shame on this night, I responded, "Only the best for the lady who will keep me company this cold, lonely night."

Maryanne picked up her napkin and patted her lips.  Then she uttered, "You are almost irresistible, but I would be enjoying your wine under false pretenses.  This meeting is not accidental.  When we get a moment of privacy, I can help you to understand my primary interest in you tonight."

I took a long look at my table companion.  What is going on here? I thought.  The smile left my face and would not return for some time.

Brigitte made polite conversation until the waiter poured the wine, and then left us with some semblance of seclusion.  She spoke in a low contralto voice.  "You are involved with Chinese interests for the purpose of transporting and selling a tanker of oil.  Your job is to arrange for the transportation of the oil to India and then for the sale of the oil through a broker there.  The proceeds from the sale will end up in the pockets of three members of the political hierarchy in the People's Republic of China.  I know their names, but they would be of little interest to you.  They are working through a crime lord in Macau whose name is Chang.  Chang Wen-biao is his son.  Feng Jian-mei is on his staff.  The two do not get on well, since the son views Jian-mei as a threat.  Are you with me so far?"

Brigitte caught me off guard with her comments, but being a lifelong poker player, I showed little reaction.  So far, nothing would influence my role in the deal.  That was soon to change.

Maryanne smiled and patted my hand.  "I don't know what Chang Wen-biao told you about the big picture, but the Iranians don't give away the proceeds from two million barrels of oil for nothing.  The renegades in China, and they are renegades, stole two nuclear warheads from their own military, and these weapons of mass destruction are on their way to Iran.  Obviously, we will not allow them to reach their destination.  We have the ship containing the warheads under constant surveillance and will take whatever action is necessary to prevent their delivery."

I looked straight into her gorgeous eyes and asked, "Who is we?"

"I am Israeli," answered Brigitte.  "The Iranians will use the warheads to protect their efforts to complete their own nuclear program.  It is one thing to have nuclear capability in the hands of normal nations but quite another when irrational zealots have their fingers on the button."

I considered the ramifications of the present reality.  "So you were on the job in London?"

She gave me a hug to dampen her answer.  "I was, but some things occurred that I can't fake."  She leaned back and took a sip of her wine.  "We know Hong Bin-Zhuo very well.  We, currently, know quite a bit about Chang Dong-hue and Chang Wen-biao.  We have learned Big Chang is a cruel, brilliant criminal, who will let nothing stand in his way.  We are convinced that without our protection, neither you nor Cloud McFarland will ever leave Monte Carlo alive.  Chang runs an assassin called the Brown Recluse.  Apparently, the killer uses many disguises and is well known for lulling victims into a lack of awareness before taking their lives in a ritualistic manner."

I answered forcefully. "Look Brigitte, I am just a Texas oilman trying to make a buck.  I don’t want to get involved in this international intrigue business.  I have no business with fiddle back spiders.  I intend to finish my part of this deal and go back to Houston.  No one is going to kill me, but thanks for the heads up."

Brigitte appeared disappointed.  "Have you noticed Wen-biao's shadow?"

I was feeling more confident.  "You mean the big guy who is always in the background?  Sure, I noticed him.  So?"

She searched for the words that would convince me of the dangers involved.  "His name is Chan Ya-gong.  He grew up with Wen-biao.  Not only is he Wen-biao's bodyguard, he is a Chang enforcer.  He is a highly trained killer, who can physically take out most people I know.  He would have no problem with you, Billy Ray.  I am here to destroy or eliminate the people responsible for this danger to Israel and peace in the Middle East.  The warheads are just as good as in our possession, and we will neutralize the renegades by informing the People’s Republic of China of their activities.  China is making too much progress on the international scene to risk their reputation on the likes of them.  We do not see Chang Dong-hue as a major player in the international scene, so he is not of great concern to us.  We need for you to continue with your part of this deal, and we will try our best to keep you and Cloud alive."

I felt perplexed.  "Stay with the plan? Is there an echo in here?  Didn't I just say that?"

Brigitte smiled.  "That is not quite all.  We will take over the oil and manage its sale.  There will be something in the deal for you."

I suddenly felt sick. "Something in the deal for me?  What do you mean something in the deal for me?  I had plans for that oil myself."

Brigitte appeared relaxed and non-threatening.  "Dear Billy Ray, you are so greedy."  She paused in thought for a moment and said, "To be brutally honest, since we have control of the big picture, we are in this for the money at this point.  If we can keep you alive through this, we will have earned our share of the money.  Besides, you don't want to get Mossad or the U. S. government on your butt."

I pondered her comment for a short period. "You may have a point there.  So it's business as usual."  

She appeared relieved.  "That's my thinking.  Don’t put yourself in unsafe situations.  Here is my card with all my phone numbers and one you can call if you can't reach me on the others, and here is something else."  Brigitte reached in her purse and handed me a rather large male ring. 

Brigitte continued, "When I said your life is in serious jeopardy, I mean every word.  This ring can save you if anyone attacks.  You will have little time to consider implications.  Put the ring on your finger and leave it there.  It is perfectly safe, but if you strike someone hard with the ring, it will inject a central nervous system agent that will have an almost instantaneous effect. Meanwhile, call me immediately if anything happens or even if something looks dicey.  We will be nearby."

Bewildered and completely out of my league, I said, "I can't see myself using this ring.  I can take care of myself."  I attempted to return the ring.

She took the ring and put it in my coat pocket.  She said earnestly, "Please just keep it as a favor to me."

I looked at Brigitte with some affection.  "You could still protect me from the bad people tonight if you wanted."

She smiled but made no effort to encourage me.  

Ever on the lookout for any sort of business advantage, it occurred to me that since the Israelis were going to take my money, I might as well see what I could do about a little profit.  "Oh, by the way, the Iranians only loaded 1.8 million barrels of heavy crude, not light crude.  I do have significant expenses including our friend Hong, port agents, and brokers.  Of more importance, Cloud is out somewhere with Chang Wen-biao.  Naturally, she is defenseless.  How can we find them?"

Brigitte assumed a pensive look.  "I will start a search, but we have limited personnel.  I doubt that Cloud’s life is at risk this early in the game, but one never knows.  You stay in your room as much as possible and be wary of who you allow in.   We will settle the money thing at a later date, but if you survive, your share will be significant."

I took her card and put it in my wallet.  She rose, smiled once again, and strode from the bar.  I sat there a couple of minutes and attempted to sort out the recent events and the odds of my living through the week.  I decided that the first step to surviving was to get a good night's sleep.  I strolled through the front door of the Hotel de Paris and followed the walk up the side of the building to the entrance of the Hermitage.  I went to my room, dressed for bed, and decided to make a quick call.  I dialed the satellite phone of Albert Peskier, whose tanker was moving through the Persian Gulf.  When Big Al sleepily answered, I spoke, "Big Al.  How is the profession of piracy treating you?"

"My honorable profession is treating me just fine.  The tanker is still not through the Straits of Hormuz, but there is no sign of the Iranian crew causing interference.  We have a full complement of product."

I spoke with a serious tone.  "Listen carefully.  I may not be able to repeat these instructions.  It is getting scary here.  It appears that we have accumulated new and very powerful business associates. The Israelis will be in charge.  We are just along for the ride and a decent payday.  As far as everyone is concerned, we picked up 1.8 million barrels of heavy crude.  The two hundred thousand extra barrels belong to you and me.  Now here is where it gets sticky.”

Big Al groaned on the other end.  I continued, “Just as soon as you get through the Straits and exchange crew members with the transport, arrange to offload our two hundred thousand barrels with a moving transfer.  The Chinese need to be below deck when this occurs.  Soon afterward, the Israelis will take possession of the ship and the oil.  You have already received your money, but can expect a bonus.  I will get something."

"You had better get your butt out of there, Billy Ray."

"I would, but Cloud is out somewhere with one of the bad guys.  As soon as I get my hands on her, we are out of here.  The Israelis have matters under control.  Contact your captain and let him know what to expect.  He should be very cooperative.  Any questions?”

Big Al answered, “I have several questions, but they would be a waste of breath.  If I get out of this with my underwear, I will never speak to you again.”

I quipped, “You know you love me, Big Al. I will keep you in the loop when I find out something.”  Then I disconnected and dialed Cloud’s room.  There was still no answer.

*****

Thirty-three

“Moderation is a fatal thing, Lady Hunstanton.  Nothing succeeds like excess.” 

Oscar Wilde

Cloud

16 July 2007

I walked down the front steps of the Hotel de Paris with Chang Wen-biao at my side. This was my arena.  Much of what people see when they look at a woman is contrived.  It helps to have some natural elegance, but I had a bit more going for me. The years I spent as a model in New York taught me how to create a compelling presence that caused both men and women to take a second look. 

Wen-biao asked me, "Do you enjoy gambling?"

I smiled at Wen-biao, displaying my innate charm.  "I enjoy watching people gamble.  I get pleasure from wondering what they are thinking and what they need."

He considered my answer and then responded, "I have gambled all my life.  I spent most of my formative years in a casino.  In fact, I live in a casino at present, although gambling with my own money against myself holds little excitement.  But, even when the odds are heavily against me, I still believe I can win."

We entered the Grand Casino and took a place in the line for tickets.  This was one of the few casinos in the world with an entry fee.  Tourists congregate here religiously in hope of seeing a movie star, a sheik, or some world-class athlete challenge the games. After all, the ghost of Princess Grace might come strolling through the Casino.  Usually, they leave disappointed and with fewer Euros in their pockets.

We made our way through the crowded isles, and paused for a few moments to watch a game of roulette.  The common method of play was for the players to put chips on about a third of the squares and hope that the high odds would allow them to get ahead.  Roulette was a game in which gamblers could do very well as long as they won on a regular basis but could lose significant amounts of money in a short time if he or she did not.  Winning induced players to bet more and lose more.  I noticed an Asian man had the most chips.  After five minutes of play, he lost them all, and, apparently untroubled, wandered off to another game.

Wen-biao bought ten thousand Euros in chips, and he began playing roulette.  Initially, he bet modestly, and soon accumulated about twenty thousand Euros.  Then, as the game progressed, he began betting in larger amounts on fewer squares and, with a bit of luck, soon assembled over fifty thousand. 

By that time, Wen-biao was in the world of the gambler and had entirely forgotten me, the oil, and even the Grand Casino.  I had seen this scenario play out in many casinos with many men.  He continued the aggressive betting and lost two in a row.  He won once, and then lost twice again.  By this time, his stack was dwindling.  Like most chronic gamblers, Wen-biao could not deal with losing, so he bet his remaining chips on about half of the squares.  The croupier spun the wheel and he lost.  His anger flourished, but there was nothing to destroy, nothing to pummel, nothing to break.  His first impulse was to purchase more chips.  Then he turned toward me, and it was as if he noticed me for the first time. 

To break the cycle, I said, "Let's have a drink and try another game.

Gradually, Wen-biao regained some control of his fury.  He looked into my eyes, and his face brightened into a smile.  "That sounds good to me.  Do you like martinis?"

I answered, "I love martinis."

We found a secluded table and ordered drinks.  Wen-biao, with a thin veneer of charm, began telling colorful anecdotes about his young life on the streets of Macau.  He even made himself the butt of some of the stories.  Then he moved on to his days at Harvard and related how the dance of deceit between student and professor raged during his time there.  Wen-biao explained that getting tests ahead of time was more than a necessity; it was a rite of passage. He and the fearless Chan Ya-gong became masters of the art.

During my modeling days, I trained myself to be a superb listener.  Gradually, I made Wen-biao feel good about his stories and, in fact, found them quite entertaining.  I added a few stories of my own from my days in New York, such as the time I modeled an entire line of clothing on a runway without undergarments.

After a time, Wen-biao tested the waters.  He suggested we have coffee in his suite and I agreed.  After all, one cannot prepare an omelet without breaking a few eggs.  Hopefully, there is information available, and Wen-biao was a beautiful man.

We drifted out of the Grand Casino, through the lobby of the Hotel de Paris, and onto the elevator.  We made our way to Wen-biao's room and were hardly past the door when he began insistently kissing and fondling.  I allowed him his way.  Soon, we were both unclothed and across the bed.  In his excitement, Wen-biao ejaculated quickly, but I was not dismayed.  I gave him time to recover.  Then I enticed him back to a high level of sexual excitement and drew him to another pleasing eruption.  During the process, I found my own pleasure as well.  Spent, we both drifted into a deep slumber.

*****

Thirty-four

“Reeling and Writhing, of course, to begin with, “the Mock Turtle replied; “and then the different branches of Arithmetic-Ambition, Distraction, Uglification, and Derision.” 

Lewis Carroll

Big Chang

 16 July 2007

I replaced the satellite phone in its cradle.  Wen-biao had just described what Jian-mei and Ya-gong had reported hours ago.  The Iranians had loaded 1.8 million barrels of heavy crude, which was very different from the original agreement.  Their dim-witted corruption would infuriate the men in BeiPan, and everyone, including me, would be under suspicion.  Considering my options, I thought it was better to lay the bad news out in the open when dealing with these powerful men.  The last thing I wanted was for them to discover me lying.  Since I would gain nothing by delaying the inevitable, I picked up the phone and called Hao Chun-zhi who immediately came on the line. "Hao speaking!"

I was all business, "Our business partners have added more burdens to the success of this enterprise.  Our contact from Texas reports that they loaded less than the volume of crude oil to which we agreed.  Ten percent of the payment product is missing, and the tanker captain was not able to convince our partners to comply with the original agreement.  This information is not confirmed, but my gut feeling is that it is accurate."

There was a momentary silence on the other end of the phone line.  Then Hao spoke.  "My superiors clearly understand the hazards of depending on untrustworthy partners.  The possibility exists that any person involved in the transaction could be lying.  The guilty party could be from Texas.  He could be from London.  He could be from Tehran.  He could be in Monte Carlo or even Macau for that matter.  It is most likely that the Iranians are the culprits, but we don’t know that for sure.  The Iranians know that the product is on the high seas, and since they appear to be without fear of losing the prize, they likely have the transport ship under surveillance.  They are taking advantage of the situation.  However, suspicions must be set aside in hopes that Calhoun can bring the remainder of the contract to completion.  Those are my orders and, therefore, your orders.  Please comply to the best of your ability."

I was both impressed and bothered with the assessment of Hao, since he retained his own natural suspicions.  Would the renegades hold me responsible?  I didn’t know what to think.  I said, "You are very clear, Hao Chun-zhi.  I can assure you that I will personally see that the venture is completed.  My son, Chang Wen-biao, his man Chan Ya-gong, and my associate, Feng Jian-mei are in Monte Carlo and their orders are clear.  When Billy Ray Calhoun completes the final provisions of the operation, my people will clean up the potential sources of any future problems.  If the oil shipment can reach safe waters, it will be a simple matter to deliver the product for sale at the chosen site.  I can only apologize for any inconvenience our comrades have suffered."

"I like your plan, Chang Dong-hue.  We appreciate a clean environment.  If other problems occur, do not hesitate to inform me.  I will pass on this message immediately."

"I will do so, Hao Chun-zhi."

*****

After Hao relayed the latest development to Yang Gu-jun, he gazed around the room at the priceless artifacts.  The furnishings and design were of exceptional value.  He reflected on the quality of his current life, the cleaners, the cooks, the people who took care of his every need, the entertainment at his whim, and the exquisite exercise of power.  He considered. Why am I involved in this ridiculous situation?  Then he answered himself.  The reason I am in this position is that the potential rewards are worth the risks, and truth be known, a life without danger is no life at all.  Since he had settled that question in his own mind, he rang Ping Mu-yao on an encrypted line.

*****

Thirty-five

…”Out, out, brief candle! Life’s but a walking shadow; a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more: it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.” 

William Shakespeare

General Ping

16 July 2007

When I don’t know the caller, I use my official voice, "Ping here."

Yang responded immediately, "Greetings, Elder Brother.  I have more complexities for you to ponder.  The Iranians shorted the shipment by two hundred thousand barrels.  Obviously, they have come to realize that they are not dealing with the Middle Kingdom, but with private citizens, who have no real power outside of China.  That leads me to believe that substituting heavy crude for light was a deliberate ploy, as well.  Hao charged Chang with completing the state of affairs, as it exists.  There will still be plenty of profits to meet our needs.  What are your thoughts?"

I savored my personal fury for a moment.  Then I spoke, "My thoughts are angry ones.  While I agree with your assessment, I also feel that we should move up our exit plans to immediate execution.  There are too many potential hazards not to move quickly.  You and Zhao should arrange to leave the country within the next few days.  I will do the same.  Additionally, we must eliminate Chang Dong-hue and his close associates as well.  Contact Hao and give him instructions.  I also have a little surprise for our friends in Tehran.  Do you agree with my views, Yang Gu-jun?"

Yang did not hesitate.  "I completely agree, Ping Mu-yao.  I will inform Zhao Ming-juan immediately, and we will begin our exit.  It is not likely we will communicate again until we reach our meeting place.  Good fortune, Ping Mu-yao."

After severing the call from Yang, I dialed a number on my encrypted phone.  A voice answered, "Major Lee speaking."

I spoke with authority, "Do you recognize my voice?"

There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line.  Lee answered, "I do, sir."

I hesitated for a moment to provide added drama to the moment.  "Execute Charging Tiger immediately."

Major Lee answered in a crisp, military fashion.  "Yes, sir.  The letter will be in the hands of Pan Wei-song within thirty minutes.  All other arrangements are complete."

I continued, “In addition, execute plan fifteen.  We will meet at the scheduled time and begin a new phase in our lives.  Do you understand your orders?” When Lee replied in the affirmative, I hung up the phone and called for my executive officer, who was also the PLA spy.  "Order my helicopter immediately."

"Yes, general.  Shall I accompany you?"

I answered in a disinterested manner, "That will not be necessary.  Expect me back tomorrow or the next day."  Then I picked up a rather large attaché case containing more than a million dollars in bearer bonds and headed for my personal car. 

The helicopter was waiting a few hundred yards away in an operational mode.  After I boarded, the machine lifted from the heliport.  The journey took about an hour, and the aircraft landed at a semi-deserted airstrip.  I dismissed the helicopter and watched it recede into the distance.  Then I entered an old ramshackle hanger and boarded a twin-engine executive aircraft, which rolled out of the hanger and took off immediately.  The ensuing circuitous trip took almost twenty-four hours with occasional stops for fuel.  Finally, I exited the aircraft in Calcutta. I gave the pilots the option of staying or going back to China. Then, I boarded a commercial aircraft for San Francisco.  My identification papers, visa, and passport were for a Hong Kong executive, and they were near perfect forgeries.  Authorities never questioned me at any stop.

Exhausted, I exited a Qantas aircraft in San Francisco.  I checked into a modest hotel, ate a light dinner, and took a long sleep.  Next, I set up a bank account in the city using a different set of papers, and relegated the Hong Kong executive to the shredder.  Then I rented a modest efficiency apartment, and managed a low profile existence for several weeks, during which time I caught up on some reading. 

The month of July passed and neither of my comrades made their pre-arranged contact.  Their absence led me to believe they would not be coming.  After a pre-determined period, their numbered accounts in the Grand Cayman bank reverted to my account.  To insure that I continued to go unrecognized in the Chinese community, I arranged for plastic surgery to alter my appearance.  Overall, I felt that my future, while not as glorious as it could have been, would work out just fine.  After all, I had some debts to pay, some business to do, and I was not without resources.

After Major Lee Pan-kie arrived in the USA, had his features rearranged, and secured a new identity, I called him in and handed him an envelope.   Then I gave Lee his orders. "Since you are wanted in the PRC, your new identity and appearance will be put to the test.  You will travel to Laogai, contact our old friend General Ho, and use the code word inebriated.   Deliver this envelope to him, personally.  It contains instructions for him to locate Zhao and Yang and inform me of their whereabouts.  They could be in his gulag in Laogai.  That would simplify matters greatly.  When we learn their location, I will join you in China to secure their release.  There is still much to do, and I require the aid and companionship of my comrades." 

*****

Thirty-six

“I hope that real love and truth are stronger in the end than any evil or misfortune in the world.”

Charles Dickens

Jian-mei

 16 July 2007

I sat at a table in front of a sidewalk restaurant a short distance from the Hotel de Paris.  I could not recall ever being in such a state of confusion.  Big Chang had ordered the elimination of Billy Ray Calhoun, Cloud McFarland, and Hong Bin-zhuo in London.  These orders were no different from many others I had received.  Then why, I asked myself, am I so concerned this time.  I don’t know those people.  I don’t care about those people.  Then, the image of Billy Ray Calhoun confused my thinking even more.

I projected images of my life after Monte Carlo.  I would return to Macau and to the life of empty days accented by occasional acts of horror.   When I really analyze my existence and the people who control it, I can see no end to my misery until it is too late to care. 

Since the loathsome Korean erased my emotions, I had never truly considered the pattern of my life.  Now, in the clear arena of reason, I despised the way I live.  When I attempted to envision the future, the notion of it became unbearable.  Then, for reasons I could not yet quantify, the germ of an idea for another way of living entered into the equation.  Suppose I did not allow Wen-biao and Ya-gong to take the lives of Billy Ray and Cloud.  My new approach was murky and without form, but when I attempted to visualize a different future, one that included Billy Ray and Cloud, it felt like a better place, a warmer place.  

I took a sip of tea and made my decision.  I must warn my mother immediately, and change the course of our lives.  We have plans in place for such a contingency, and it is time to launch them. 

Having made a momentous alteration in the direction of my future, I walked quickly across the park and up the slight incline to the Hotel Hermitage.  I called Billy Ray's room from a house phone, and after a couple of rings, he answered.  "This is Feng Jian-mei.  I must speak with you. It is very important."

He hesitated, then answered, "Sure, come on up.  I'm in room 327." 

"I will be right there," I said and hung up the phone.  When I reached his room, I knocked.  He opened the door, and I brushed past him into the room.  A bit startled by my behavior, he closed the door, and I turned to face him.  "Your life is in immediate danger.  Where is Cloud?"

Billy Ray did not appear ready to accept me at face value.  He said, "She is out somewhere with Wen-biao.  What is going on?"

I placed both palms against my face and looked at Billy Ray.  "Wen-biao's father has ordered you, Hong, and Cloud killed.  He does not want any witnesses to this oil deal.  Just as soon as the final arrangements are complete, you all become expendable."

Billy Ray was still not convinced, "Why are you telling me this?  What are you getting out of it?"

"Your life….and mine," I answered in an emotional tone. 

Billy Ray gazed at me, attempting to decide whether I was telling the truth.  I met his look, and the fear in my eyes must have turned the tide.  Billy Ray turned away and gazed out the window. Then, he looked at me and spoke, "All right, suppose what you say is true.  How is this going to play out?"

I spoke with all the sincerity I could muster.  "The first thing I must do is contact my mother and tell her to run.  We have an emergency plan in case the situation becomes intolerable.  It has done so.  I can’t do this anymore.  The next thing I must do is kill Wen-biao and, probably, Chan Ya-gong."

Billy Ray considered what he was hearing.  "Don't be foolish.  You can't just go around killing people."

I crossed my chest with both arms, and then turned my back.  "You know nothing about me, Billy Ray." I left his room and headed for mine. It was time for action.

*****

Chan knew the number of Billy Ray's room and went directly there.  He knocked and waited for Billy Ray to come to the door.  Billy Ray opened the door, but upon seeing who it was, he quickly attempted to shut it.  Chan was too quick and too strong. He slammed the door into Billy Ray who flew back into the room and into a heap against the sofa. 

Chan was in no hurry.  He smiled and slowly advanced into the room with a presence reminiscent of the infamous Odd Job in an early Bond movie.  While no taller than Billy Ray, he carried an additional 40 pounds of muscle.  Chan enjoyed the look of surprise on the faces of his victims when they made their best effort and found that they were powerless against him. 

Billy Ray leaped to his feet and quickly looked around for anything to use as a weapon.  He picked up a wastebasket and slung it toward Chan but missed.  He circled out of reach looking for anything to use. The ring provided by Bridgitte was in his coat pocket in his closet. The only thing at hand was a slim vase filled with fresh flowers.  He seized the flowers, threw them out, and grabbed the narrow neck of the vase.  He faked a kick to Chan’s groin then swung the vase hard at his head.  Chan caught the vase with the heel of his hand and it shattered.  Discouraged, Billy Ray launched a hard right fist at Chan’s jaw and it landed.  The blow had absolutely no affect on Chan. He continued to smile and advance. 

Billy Ray was about out of options.  One tactic left came to mind.  He had never actually used it in a fight, but he had found the technique described in works of fiction.  With nothing else to do, he launched himself straight at a surprised Chan Ya-gong and proceeded to grab him around the neck with his left arm.  Chan loved it.  He wrapped his massive arms around Billy Ray in a crushing embrace.  Billy Ray took careful aim at the base of Chan's nose with the heel of his right hand.  Theoretically, the bone was thin where the nose met the skull. Properly landed, a blow could break the bone and plunge the sharp end into the brain of an opponent.  It always worked for the heroes in the books.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   

Billy Ray was a large, strong man, so when his blow landed there appeared to be some give involved from Chan's nose.  He drove the heel of his hand into the tip of Chan's nose once again.  This time there was a reaction.  Blood began streaming from Chan's nostrils, and his arms loosened somewhat.  Then, gradually, Chan began slipping to the floor. 

No one was more surprised than Billy Ray.  He extracted himself from Chan's failing grasp, fell back onto the bed, and began shaking.  Matters had occurred so rapidly that it was just sinking in that he could be dead himself at this time.  He gathered himself and took a hard look at Cang Chan-gong.  He was not moving.  His eyes were open and glazed.  Was he dead?  There was nothing to do but investigate. He tried to locate Chan's pulse but could find no sign of life.  Now what, he thought?

Billy Ray called Feng Jian-mei.  He recounted what had just happened with Chan.  Then he asked, "Have you seen Wen-biao?"

"No, I have not.  You must be very careful of him.  He can be deadly in his own right.  I will find him."

"You can't do anything.  He might decide to do away with you."

"You need not worry about me, Billy Ray.  What of Cloud?"

"She should be on a plane for New York.  I must think of some way to get rid of this body.  Wait.  I think I might have a solution.  Let me know when you find Wen-biao."

Then Billy Ray took out the card Bridgitte had given him.  He dialed and she answered.  "We have a problem.  Cang Chan-gong tried to take me out, and I took him out.  He is lying in a pool of blood in my room at the Hermitage.  Do you have any ideas?"

Bridgitte was silent for a moment.  "Give me about an hour, and don't let anyone from the hotel into the room.  I will accompany my team to your room, and then we will leave it to them.  What of Wen-biao and Feng Jian-mei?"

"Wen-biao is a killer and is on the move.  Feng Jian-Mei is definitely on our team.  I can't take the time to explain it all now, but I will stake my life on it.  In fact, I am staking my life on it.  Give me some trust here, Bridgitte."

"It's not like I have a choice.  I will see you soon."

Billy Ray hung up the phone and settled himself for a long wait.  Having a corpse in the room did not add to the ambience.

*****