“What about the other guy?” Alex persisted.
“He rigged the apartment's gas supply and fired the set detonator when I gave him the signal. You took a little bit more time to get there than I expected.” He gagged again. “For God’s sake help me now please!” he begged.
“OK I’ll make the call,” Alex agreed sympathetically.
The man relaxed a little and looked away.
Alex stood up; holding the man’s own silenced machine pistol. As he looked down at the crippled man he remembered the pathetic sight of David’s wife in that bloody room. Without emotion, he raised the weapon, flicked the safety, pointed and shot the man in one smooth movement. The silenced bullet slapped into the man’s forehead. He died instantly.
Alex picked up the tool bag, stuffed the weapon and ammunition back inside then ambled casually from the lane and headed towards the waterfront. He bumped into Ling at the junction.
“Am I glad to see you! Are you OK?” Ling asked anxiously.
“I’m fine thank you but what happened to your man?” Alex replied.
“He’s over here.”
They walked across and along the quayside until they came to a gangplank leading down to an old barge. Ling led the way on board and entered the wheelhouse and there, tied to the helm seat, was the swarthy European.
“He has something he wants to tell you,” Ling smiled. “He assured me that his colleague will have fixed you, as he put it, then would come for me!”
“Well your mate isn’t going anywhere and unless you have something valuable to say to me, you are about to join him.” Alex opened the tool bag and withdrew the machine pistol.
The man, visibly shaken and uncertain of himself, stammered, “What’s happened to him?”
“He’s dead!” Alex balanced the weapon in his hand, “and you’re next!”
“Wait!” he screamed as Alex pushed the gun barrel into his chest. “I can be useful to you!” he pleaded desperately.
“In what way?” Alex pulled the barrel back.
“I think I know who put the contract out on you!” he tried bravely.
“So you had better tell us what you know. Then I’ll decide; now start talking!” Alex ordered angrily and prodded him again.
The man poured it all out. They did contract work for one of the local crime families or warlords, as they were known in Hong Kong. He and his colleague had been instructed to follow the man, David Po, to find out to whom he was feeding information about the harbour warehouse leases. His colleague, the man Alex had just executed, had gone mad and killed David’s wife. Later they’d managed to take some photographs of Alex and Ling as they left the flat. Now they had received a new contract from one of their other clients. They were to find and kill Ling and Alex and then… He actually laughed at that point.
“We had to find and eliminate the two assassins who murdered David’s wife!”
“So whom are you actually working for now?” Ling pressed.
“Why the people from the warehouse, some kind of Syndicate I was told,” he said, looking at Alex in surprise.
“Where can we find these people?” Alex asked.
“I’m not supposed to know that, but I do, because I followed him to his office after his meeting with my guy.” He looked pleased with himself. “I always like to know who I’m dealing with — it’s safer that way!” He squared himself up and, obviously feeling more confident, asked, “Now, how about we talk a deal here?” He lifted his head. “If I give you the main client — the Syndicate one — will you let me go?”
Alex turned and looked out across the harbour. Ling waited, leaning casually against the console.
The man was impatient.
“Well isn’t that fair?” he demanded.
“Yes that’s fair,” Alex conceded quietly. “You show us this man’s office and identify him for us and then we let you go. Agreed?” He looked at Ling.
“There’s one thing more I’d like to know first.” Ling looked at Alex for approval. Alex gestured to carry on. “Has anyone been sent to this man’s hotel?” He pointed at Alex.
The European hesitated.
“I’m not sure, but they certainly know which hotel you’re staying at!”
“OK Alex let’s cut him loose,” Ling continued, opening his pocket knife and attacking the man’s Sellotaped bonds. “Now don’t you try to be clever — we’ll be either side of you, understand?”
The man nodded, rubbing his liberated wrists.
“We’ll need a taxi, the office is opposite the main station.”
The taxi pulled up outside the office block. They walked to the lift and went up to the Syndicate man’s office.
A male secretary greeted them.
“Mr Reinhardt is busy at the moment would you like to call back?”
“No. We will see him now, thank you.” Ling flashed an embossed wallet displaying some kind of identity card bearing his photograph. “State Security,” he growled at the frightened man, who backed away in fear.
They marched past him and flung open the inner office door. “That’s him,” the European said, pointing triumphantly at the man sitting behind the desk, still holding a coffee cup in his hand.
“What the hell is going on?” Reinhardt demanded, coffee spilling from his cup as his hand trembled with fear.
“I believe you put out a contract on me and my colleague,” Alex barked and indicated Ling.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Reinhardt protested.
“Oh yes you do, because I’m the man your agent contracted to do it!” the European spat out, trying to maximise his usefulness.
Alex tossed the photographs onto the man’s desk.
“Seems you are also responsible for the death of a lady. I suppose you know they decapitated her?” Alex added.
The man cringed.
“I had nothing to do with that!”
“Oh? So how did you know about it?” Ling burst out.
Reinhardt threw the cup at Ling and barged towards the door but he never had a chance — Ling easily tripped him up and fell on top of him. The European looked hopefully at the door and made as if to move, until he felt the hard dig of the silenced machine pistol in his ribs.
“Not yet my friend,” Alex hissed menacingly.
They tried without success to extract details about the man’s Syndicate colleagues and their controller. Alex of course realised it was unlikely that there was anything he could divulge simply because he wouldn’t know. The one thing he did know however was that the cargo of armaments was going to a militant terrorist in the Southern Philippines.
“Well thank you for your cooperation. As promised you are free to go,” Alex addressed both men
The European looked cautiously from Alex to Ling then towards the door. The Syndicate man stood up nervously.
Alex, still holding the machine pistol, reversed to the door; Ling picked up the photographs from the desk and then stepped back alongside Alex.
Without looking at him, Alex said to Ling, “Did I ever tell you that I tell fibs sometimes?” The machine pistol coughed twice in the direction of the European. A second double discharge slammed into the Syndicate man.
“That’s for David’s wife and the host of other deaths you are responsible for.”
Ling opened the door; the secretary was hovering outside, wringing his hands. They moved towards him. Alex, angrily slamming the door behind them, barked at the cringing man.
“You better go now and look for a new job. You’ve just been made redundant!”
If there was to be any chance of finding the submarine and its golden cargo, it was imperative that they employ the services of some competent divers with the very latest equipment as well as a good boat with efficient sonar equipment. Oscar and Greg had agreed that Moby Dick and his sister-in-law were their best bet for the diving boat but realised that to guarantee their services, they would not just have to buy their boat, quite literally. More importantly they would also have to release wife and child from the grip of Annie’s crooked brother.