Tanner stood, followed by the other members of his team. “Gentlemen, we need to do some planning. If you’ll excuse us.”
Naomi caught up with Vessler in the building’s lobby. “Vess, can we talk?”
Vessler exhaled slowly, but didn’t stop walking. Naomi lengthened her stride to keep up with her. They passed through the security checkpoint that led outside, each woman displaying their federal ID badges to the security guards. Naomi noticed a group of people and two news camera teams on the plaza, observed by a pair of uniformed security guards positioned to keep the reporters away from the front entrance. A light rain drizzled, wetting the ground and forcing a few people to hurry along or produce umbrellas.
Vessler turned right and walked down the sloping sidewalk bordered on the left side by a six-foot wall, on the right by a railing, the exit to the underground parking garage beyond that. Naomi matched her stride for stride, their footsteps echoing between the wall and building. The wall ended and Vessler headed for a small seating area surrounding a triangular patch of grass.
Around them the city bustled, some of the noise reflected by a tall stone wall between them and the main entrance. People filled the sidewalks, cars and trucks slogged through the intersections as the traffic lights directed. The surrounding buildings towered above them, making them feel as though they occupied a private nook in the heart of the city.
When Vessler put her foot on a bench, Naomi sensed it was time for the conversation. “Spill it, Vess. Something’s eating you.”
At length, Vessler said, “I’m tired. Not just of this case, but of the job in general and the scum I deal with day in and day out.”
“You’re a damned good agent,” Naomi said.
“Not good enough to keep eight DEA agents and a dozen SFPD officers under my command from the grave.”
“You didn’t know what you were walking into.”
Vessler turned toward her friend, her eyes blazing with anger. “I should have!”
Naomi put a hand on Vessler’s shoulder. “You’re going through a rough patch right now.”
Vessler shook her head. “It’s not just the last couple of days. I’ve been a DEA agent for fifteen years, and I’ve seen more suffering and wasted lives in those years than a dozen people will see in a lifetime. I’ve busted drug dealers with a tenth-grade education, gold-plated AK-47s, two hundred thousand dollar cars, and three million-dollar mansions.” She closed her eyes for a few seconds. “I’ve seen more money in one place then you and I will ever make in three lifetimes, just waiting to be picked up and taken away. I’ve poured my heart and soul in this job, and what do I have to show for it? Not a damn thing.”
“You’re a good agent.”
“Not good enough. The bad guys are winning. When we take one down, another pops up to take their place like some twisted whack-a-mole game. I’m tired, Nay. Tired of not stopping the drugs, tired of watching people get rich on other people’s misery, watching the wasted lives, and seeing that no one giving a damn. Or worse yet, calling to legalize it like that bitch Pagliei.”
“You’re thinking of quitting?”
“After this, yeah.”
“And do what? You’d be bored as a civilian.”
“I don’t know. Maybe teach at a college, or transfer to another federal agency, maybe go into the private sector as a security consultant.”
“Vess, when was the last time you had a vacation?”
“Been a couple of years.”
“When this is over, why don’t you and me take some time off and head for the Caribbean? Tanner has a deal with a friend of his to let us use a villa in the Bahamas whenever we want. We can party, find a couple of island men and cut loose.”
Vessler eyed Naomi. “Jamaica? Warm sand, drinks with umbrellas, nude sunbathing?”
“And more.”
Vessler smiled. “Count me in.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Naomi noticed four men standing on the sidewalk near the intersection, thirty feet away. All were Asian, wearing long coats against the cool rain. The four looked like they were discussing something, but as she watched, they would stop and look around, then go back to talking. They passed a piece of paper around, each man peeling a skin patch from it and applying it to his wrist.
Alarm bells went off in Naomi’s mind. She glanced around. She felt Vessler’s arm stiffen under her hand. “What’s wrong?” the DEA agent whispered.
“Four o’clock, four Asian males in a cluster.”
Vessler nodded, then moved her head casually from head side to side, as if to loosen a stiff neck. “See them. You thinking what I’m thinking?”
“Trouble? Do they wave targets of opportunity here?”
They both turned away from the men. “Besides the federal building?” Vessler motioned her head toward Polk Street. “Credit union over there, and the building across Golden Gate is nothing but state offices.” She exhaled slowly. “I’m thinking the credit union. Both the federal and state buildings have heavy security and armed law enforcement officers all over the place.”
Naomi took out her phone. “I’ll call Tanner.”
He answered on the second ring. “What’s up? Vessler feeling any better?”
“Still working on that. But speaking of feelings, I have one of those feelings right now that says now would be a good time for you and the rest of the team to come out and meet me.”
Tanner’s tone became more focused. “Anything solid?”
“Not yet, but the feeling’s strong.”
“We’re on our way down.”
“Okay, meet us near the Polk Street side of the building.” She hung up and pocketed the phone. “They’re coming.”
Just then, Naomi noticed three cars, a limo bookended by a pair of sedans, come down Golden Gate Avenue, cross over Polk Street and roll past the federal building. All four Asians stopped talking and watched the cars roll by.
“Oh, joy,” Vessler said sarcastically. “Her High Honor the Mayor, Nicholle Pagliei has arrived.” She motioned to a news truck following her. “Showboating bitch.”
All four Asians turned and strode past the women, ignoring them and heading up the sloped walkway to the federal building’s front entrance. As they passed, something about the way the men’s coats hung on their bodies warned Naomi that they were armed. “Vess—”
Vessler turned slowly, her hand moving toward her pistol. “I noticed. Trouble confirmed.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Johnny Liao considered himself a member of the new breed.
He’d grown up on the streets, with no father and a mother too busy drinking herself into oblivion. By the time he was fourteen he was leading his own street gang, but he always wanted more. He rejected joining one of the Triads — relics of the past that wanted his unreserved loyalty in return for some crumbs of the pies. Even the Black Dao and that fossil Hong wanted years of bowing and scraping in order to get power.
Screw that.
Liao wanted power, wealth and women, but he wanted them now. Lots of people did, but the difference between them and Liao was that Johnny was willing to do something about it, and a little thing like the law was not about to stop him.
When a Mr. Rhee had offered him a chance to carve his own empire, he had agreed and brought his whole gang in with him. They were given clothes, weapons, a place to stay, and of course some drugs, including samples of a new high called Red Ice. There had been friction with members from another gang, but Ko Lee and his boys had been almost wiped out at the pier, leaving Johnny Liao as the go-to guy for Mr. Rhee.