Torching the Crimson Flag Page 12

  When he had first met her, she was getting ready to go to law school, working in his uncle's restaurant. His uncle had honestly hired her, thinking she might be a good fit for Justin. He’d observed her carefully and noted that she was a diligent and faithful worker. But she was smart too. Justin still remembered when his uncle told him about her. In Korean culture, many marriages are still set up by people relationally. It's not exactly a blind date or arranged marriage but something similar. When Justin met her, he was pleasantly surprised. Now that they were married, he was excited to be part of her life.

  After her interaction with LaunchPad in the last operation, David and Leonard made her a deal. They would pay for her law school if she delayed it a year and committed to working with them, even later, when she was a student. Their reasoning wasn't just because they wanted her around. It was also because they felt like going straight into law school after marriage could put a lot of stress on their relationship. Of course, working against child trafficking rings wasn't exactly non-stressful, either. But at least in LaunchPad they would have lots of support.

  “I think I found something. I mean … I know I did.”

  Justin looked over at his wife and then back at the road. “Better call Leonard right now. I think Trey is about to meet up with Tank, David, and Bruce. There’s something they need to watch on a secure laptop. Trey’s bringing it down with him.”

  Bora nodded, picking up her phone. “I’ll call him right now.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a Y-jack for her earbuds. “Get out your headphones and plug into this. You’ll want to hear this, too.”

  Tala was just realizing the danger she was in. Her pimp had a ruthless history, and she wondered whether or not he was really going to put her back to work, or whether there was some other, more nefarious agenda in his mind. Her son was stirring, trying to find a comfortable way to sleep. She thought about what she was leaving behind and determined that another escape attempt was an absolute must. Sooner than later. Matteo was four years old and would start forming memories that would last his lifetime. Living in terror at the torturous hands of Makato Mitsumuri was not going to be one of them.

  The sun was starting to send down its mid-morning heat, and traffic was picking up. A few working women were groggily coming out of night clubs and heading home. Not all of them had pimps like Mako. Some of them had bosses who worked hard for them and respected them. It felt strange to even think of them that way, she thought, but it’s true. Pimps and hookers were all working people, just trying to survive in a nation that was built to keep the poor, oppressed, and the rich, very rich. There was a rhythm to the city, though. She loved that part of it. The bustling marketplaces, the hustling of tourists, the smells of delicious food, the sounds of children laughing and playing, shopkeepers jawing with each other, and the armed police, pretending to be important. Part of her missed the atmosphere. If Mako hadn’t owned her, she probably would have loved living in the center of all the nightlife. But then there was Matteo. She didn’t want him growing up in this place. Although kids seemed to have a happy childhood, much of their laughter was just making the best of a horrible situation. There was a very dark underbelly to this place.

  “Tala! Give me your phone.”

  She leaned forward and handed it to Mako.

  “What’s the code?”

  Her heart sank. The plan she had in her head was a simple one. Grab her son, and run for her life. She just needed to get anywhere and hide. Then she was going to call his preschool teacher and ask for help. The lady had always been nice to her. She didn't know what Tala did for a living, but Matteo's mother was sure that she would help. But now there was no way to call. She didn't know any numbers by heart. Her whole life was on that phone, and she knew exactly what Mako was going to do with it.

  “363696.”

  Mako entered the digits and started searching through her entire phone. He deleted photos, uninstalled most of her apps, read through all of her text messages and emails, and then deleted them all.

  “You have been busy!” he said in a sickly mocking tone. “A lot of clients. That's even more money that you owe me. I counted one hundred and twenty-three. Let’s call it an even one hundred and fifty. I get fifty percent.”

  Tala didn't bother answering. He wasn't going to get any of that money. She would be gone with her son before he'd collect any of it. She was already planning to run away tonight.

  “You don't seem to mind.”

  “You're right, Mako. I should split the profits with you.”

  Makato wasn’t stupid. He could see that she was just saying what she needed to say to save her life and the life of her boy.

  “How did you find us?”

  The pimp thought for a minute and then decided that she could know. She would never escape him again. And he knew exactly how he was going to keep her. “Do you remember a Japanese client you had a week ago?”

  Tala nodded. “He sold medical equipment?”

  “That’s the one. Did you recognize him?”

  She shook her head.

  “Of course not. You’ve had so many. You serviced him before. Here in Angeles City.”

  Tala couldn’t believe it.

  “He called me.”

  “Why you?”

  “You charged him double what I had charged him. He thought I should know where you were. He wants to see you again, but he doesn't want to pay as much.”

  Cruz could have cried. She remembered the Japanese guy very well. He’d been mean. Abusive. And when they talked business, he was furious at how much she was charging him. But she needed that much. She’d had a plan for that money.

  The van pulled up in front of Club XYT, where Tala had lived for so many painful years. Just seeing the sign on the marquee made her queasy and filled her with foreboding. The front end of the facility was a nightclub that was ranked in the top ten in the entire nation of the Philippines. Then there was a back part that was reserved for VIP guests. When she was working, that was where she would hang out. There was a back, back part for extra special VIP guests. Some of her wealthier clients would go with her and disappear into that room only to emerge the next morning. Drugs flowed like water in that area. Of course, the girls weren't allowed to do drugs. That was one thing that Mako was very strict about. If he found out a girl was an addict, he would get rid of her. And then there was a back, back, back, place where all of the working girls were kept. They were not allowed to eat anything other than the food that was given to them in their bedrooms. It was essential to Mako that all of his girls stayed slim and attractive. When they weren't working, they had to be back in their rooms. There was no going outside for any reason. He always said it was for their safety, but after she escaped, she realized how ridiculous that was.

  “Come, Matteo. We’re here. It’s time to wake up,” she said gently.

  Mako looked at one of his men. “Take the kid to my place.”

  Tala was horrified. “He needs to stay with me.”

  “You don’t get to make decisions. He’s going to stay with me. At my house. And if you do anything stupid or reckless, I’ll slit his throat.”

  Cruz shrieked, “No, Mako! No! He’s my son!! He stays with me!” She began to sob.

  The powerful hand that had slapped her face when she’d been taken from her home, four hours earlier, slapped her again in the exact same spot. Tala crumbled on the ground. Overwhelmed.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Bruce was surprised when he saw the helicopter landing in a nearby soccer field. It was much bigger than he’d anticipated. The UH-1 Iroquois was straight out of Vietnam era American military equipment. It was powered by a single turboshaft engine with two-bladed main and tail rotors. Developed by Bell Helicopter in 1952, it met the US Army's requirements for medical evacuation and utility helicopters. Able to carry almost 10,000 lbs. of gear, he knew that it would be more than sufficient for their needs. The usual inside seating configuration was for two pilot seats and up to thirt
een passengers in the cabin. They mostly consisted of a four-man bench seat facing rearwards behind the pilot seats and a forward-facing five-man bench seat in front of the transmission structure. Two-man bench seats faced outwards from the transmission structure on either side of the aircraft. The seats could easily be removed and reconfigured in a variety of different ways. He’d also seen the doors taken off completely or pinned open during flight.

  “David, you continue to surprise me,” Bruce said, chuckling.

  “Gary Jonston is a good guy,” Hirsh said, slapping Locke on the back. “He flies this thing in air shows, most likely to relive his days of jungle flying in Southeast Asia. Anytime I've asked him for a favor, he's been more than happy to step up.”

  Tank was impressed, too. ”I don't think I've ever flown in one of these things. Is it safe?”

  “Probably not,” said David with a grin.

  The chopper set down, gently, and the rotors started to slow down, eventually coming to a complete stop.

  “Okay, let's get going. We need to find out what's on that video and then make a plan.”

  The trio jogged forward and reached the helicopter. Trey put down his arm to help everybody inside. Everyone exchanged greetings, and David introduced Gary to the team.

  “You got the laptop?” Bruce asked his friend.

  “And a whole lot more,” Trey said, pointing towards the rear of the helicopter. “It’s in your kit. I’m pretty sure Justin thought of everything.”

  “He’s back at LaunchPad already?” Hirsch asked.

  “No. When he texted you, he was at the airport. He sent me the list of stuff, and I just stuck it all in our kits.”

  Bruce had already found the laptop in his black duffle bag that Trey had brought down. He turned it on, and after it booted up, he inserted the gig stick. “Showtime!”

  They watched as the white Ford van entered the underground parking facility in the Russian Embassy. The transfer that happened was very quick. And the winning vehicle was a white Chevy Tahoe. It looked to be from the mid-90s.

  “Can you zoom in on the plates?”

  Agent Locke took a screenshot of the video and then zoomed in on the photo. The license plate numbers were clear enough. David already had Dusti Taylor on the line. He reported the results to her and told her what they were looking for.

  “She said she’d get right back to us,” Hirsch said after he’d hung up. He knew Dusti wasn't as good at her job as Saara, of course, mostly because she didn't have access to CIA satellite footage. But she could trace highway traffic cams, and he hoped that would be enough.

  “So, what's the plan?” asked Trey.

  “We're going to fly to wherever she says they are, and you’re going to extract Iris.”

  “What are you going to do with the Suzuki Samurai?” asked Tank.

  “I’ll park it here.”

  For the next ten minutes, they studied the video more thoroughly. It was the Russian Embassy, but they didn’t recognize any faces from earlier in the day. The camera caught three of them, but the rest were out of view because of its angle and positioning.

  “Can you freeze the video on those faces?” Trey asked.

  Bruce knew why. Stone’s photographic memory was like nobody else’s that he knew.

  “Thanks.”

  David’s phone rang. It was Dusti, already. He put her on speakerphone.

  “Hi, Sugar,” she said with her endearing southern drawl.

  “Hey, Dusti, you’ve got something already?”

  “You owe me big time. I called in a favor with my new boyfriend.”

  “You’re ditching me?”

  She belly-laughed. “I didn’t know you were available!”

  Hirsch chuckled. “I hope he’s a lot younger than I am.”

  “He is. And he works for the F.B.I.”

  Everyone in the helicopter looked at each other and shook their heads—what a surprise.

  “Your Tahoe drove south for a while and then cut west into the middle of a forest. Then there was another handoff.”

  “Dusti, this is Trey Stone.”

  “Hi, Trey!”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Very sure. I’ll be sending you all the footage. Should I send it to Saara?”

  Trey knew that Justin could access it, too. “Yes, that would be great. But you’re absolutely sure that another exchange took place? It’s very important that you know for certain.”

  “I’m a hundred percent sure.”

  “So, what’s our next vehicle?” David asked.

  “I’ve got better than that, Sweetie. Although, it was a beige four-door Jeep. Looks pretty new. But listen, we tracked it to an old pig processing plant in Falling Creek, North Carolina, and it looks like that’s where they stopped.”

  “Unbelievable,” Hirsch said. “You are amazing. You have no idea how much we needed all of that information. I was nervous about losing them.”

  “Now, you know, it’s gonna cost ya.”

  “I’ll tell you what, Dusti. If your guy puts a ring on it, I’ll help pay for the wedding.”

  Taylor squealed. “Are you being serious right now??”

  “I’m being absolutely serious. Trey just said he’d pitch in, too,” Hirsch said with a grin, seeing Stone try to kick him in the shin. “Don’t tell your boy, though. I don’t want him marrying you for the money.”

  “Man! I’m telling you. I will definitely not let him know. But if he does slip me that ring, I’ll be calling.”

  “Thanks, Dusti!”

  “Alright. You guys be safe. I’ll text you their location.”

  The men looked at each other, still a little shocked.

  “Someone upstairs must be wanting to help us out,” Bruce said.

  “It sure looks that way,” chipped in Jonston. “You guys are fun!”

  “Let’s put this bird in the air, Gary,” Trey said. “We’ll go through our kits and prep while we’re in motion.”

  Michiko was standing in the kitchen, catching up with Lin Lin Ma when one of the phones in her hand rang. It was Dr. Stone’s, and it looked to be Bora. She decided to answer it.

  “Hi Bora, this is Michi.”

  “Hi! It’s nice to hear your voice. How was the U2 concert?”

  “It was so great. I can’t wait to tell you about it and show you all the pictures. I think Saara had a good time, too.”

  “How is Fox?”

  “Still in critical condition. They’ve repaired the damage to his femoral artery, and Ashley said that part looks good. Now they are working on repairing all the damage to his femur. They found out his tibia was nicked, too.”

  “Okay. Is Dr. Stone around?”

  “He’s getting some rest. Should I wake him up?”

  “Yes, please. I think he’ll want to hear what I have to say. You probably will, too. Why don’t you both call me back from the conference room?”

  “Okay. That’s a good idea. I’ll call you right back.”

  Michi slipped into Leonard's room and gently woke him up. She was relieved that he wasn't angry about letting him sleep for another hour. As they walked to the conference room, she updated him on what was going on with Trey and the team, but she didn't know about the latest developments from Dusti Taylor yet. Dr. Stone took a few minutes to greet Lin Lin, Bao Zhen, and Jasmine, giving the latter a much bigger and longer hug. Something about seeing his granddaughter safely back at LaunchPad was therapeutic.

  “Why don't all of you come into the conference room?" Leo said. “ I think we should all be brought up to speed with the latest developments. Soon we'll be developing a strategy for our work here to help the team in the field.”

  Jasmine was excited. Even though she had played a key role in the last mission, part of her was worried that nobody would involve her again. The group filed into the conference room, and Bao Zhen brought Leonard a cup of coffee.

  “Okay, I’m going to call Bora,” Michi announced.

  “Hi, Bora," Leonard sai
d. "We are all in the conference room. I figured it would be good for everyone to get an update. You’re speaking to Jasmine, Lin Lin Ma, Bao Zhen, Michi, and myself.”

  “Hi, everyone! Justin is plugged into my phone, too. We’ll be seeing you soon. Our plane should be arriving here any minute, so I'll get right to the pertinent information if that's okay.”

  “We’re thrilled that you’re coming, Bora. Yes, go ahead.”

  “I’m sure that you haven’t had the time to process most of the things that Michi found at the cemetery. But, getting the rental car receipts was an important find. I think the signature on there was fake. It just seems to be a scribble. But the company name was Carousel Shipping, LLC. There wasn't too much information about them in their public incorporation documents. Most of what they do seemed extremely vague. There’s no publicly posted mission statement or anything that explains who they are. One marketing blurb states that they guarantee the shipment of products, but there is no information on what they ship, when they ship, or any of the ways that they ship. So, I began to comb through the details of all their past filings in Wyoming.”

  Leonard looked at Michi and smiled. Bora truly was a master-researcher. And what he loved most about her is that she didn’t know how endearing she was. She just presented the facts as if she’d been looking up the best places to eat, having no idea that her instincts to follow certain information trails was a rare gift.

  “I found one document that was kind of surprising. I'm not sure that it was supposed to be public information, it might’ve been included in their annual filing by mistake. But it was the minutes of a corporate meeting that actually included a list of their board members. So I started going through the list, name by name. I researched each person and found that many of them were on several different company boards, almost all shipping companies. And then I got to an Austrian guy who lives in Honolulu, Hawaii. He kind of stuck out because I thought about Boyd being on the Big Island.”