“Good.” He stared at the three. “You see danger. I see opportunity. We are on the verge of a major event here, gentlemen, one that will bring you millions. Do not let fear override your vision. The Americans have no inkling of what’s about to hit them. By the time they do, it will be too late.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The brothel was located on the edge of the city’s Cow Hollow district. It was a three-story brick colonial on a corner, listed as the Sons of The Western Gentlemen’s Social Club. Dues were five thousand dollars a month and prospective members were vetted more thoroughly than a CIA job applicant. Danielle’s research indicated there were between fifteen and twenty prostitutes in the building at any given time, mostly Asian and other illegals forced into the life. The number of powerful people who were members stymied any investigation before it could start. It was one of the Triad’s biggest money makers, raking in millions of dollars per month. The establishment sat there, confident no one would dare challenge its right to debase women for profit.
That would change tonight.
The dark sky was cool and cloudy and the neighborhood was quiet, most residents turned in for the night. Street lights were the main source of illumination, but Tanner could see that the club itself was well-lit around the outside. Heavy curtains hid the interior lights. According to Danielle, the club was heavily soundproofed to avoid complaints from neighbors.
“Able Team in position,” Tanner radioed. Both he and Liam were half a block west of the club, dressed in designer suits and overcoats, with balaclavas hidden beneath their hats. Standing on a slope, the pair of operators could see the lights of downtown San Francisco twinkling in the distance.
“Bravo Team in position.” Stephen and Dante were a couple of houses east of the club, halfway up a steep hill. Unlike Able Team, Bravo was dressed in black jumpsuits under heavy overcoats, balaclavas pulled up on their heads to reveal their faces.
“Charlie Team set.” Naomi, Vessler, and Choi occupied a cargo truck parked in a lot next to a chapel down the street from the club. Choi drove while Vessler and Naomi sat up front next to him. All three wore black jumpsuits, balaclavas on their heads.
“Base is set. Snow-out is set to go.” Danielle was back at the hotel, monitoring communications and preparing to execute remote operations.
Liam and Tanner started walking toward the club. On the way, Tanner pulled out a pint of liquor chosen for its strong smell, took a swig, rinsed his mouth, then spat out the liquid before deliberately spilling some on his overcoat. He handed the now half-filled bottle to Liam who did the same, then pocketed the now-empty bottle. They walked with a slight weave in their step as if they were drunk.
When they reached the intersection, the pair swayed as they looked at the building, picking out the security cameras they had spotted on recon drivebys earlier in the evening. Approaching the site without being seen by one of the cameras would have been impossible, which is why the team had chosen this disguised approach.
“Able to Bravo,” Tanner subvocalized, “this is Prime. Execute Snow-out.”
“Executing now.”
Part of the plan involved neutralizing the brothel’s security system and phones, both land lines and cellular. Danielle had hacked into the brothel’s wireless computer network and uploaded a virus that would delete the security programs, any recorded video, and the building’s telephone system.
“Snow-out is running,” Danielle reported. “Total network failure in ten seconds.”
Tanner and Liam started across the street, stumbling. They reached the sidewalk and headed for the front door. At the same moment, Stephen, carrying a briefcase-sized cell phone jammer, and Dante, walking quickly from the opposite direction, reached an iron gate leading into the house’s grounds.
Danielle’s voice issued over the comm channels. “Snow-out is active. All security cameras, building alarms and phone lines are off-line.”
Tanner reached the front door. “Prime to all elements: Execute.”
Dante stuck a thumbnail-sized piece of C4 into the gate lock, stepped back a couple of paces and triggered the charge. With a “pop”, the lock was destroyed and the gate sprung open. While Bravo went through the gate, Tanner hammered on the front door and started swaying as if inebriated. He waited a few seconds, then hammered on the door again, as hard as he could. Next to him, Liam also acted drunk, but one hand was in his overcoat pocket, clutching a stun gun.
The door opened and a hard-looking Asian with a weightlifter’s build glared at them. “What?”
“Hey, is Bulldog here?” Tanner asked, slurring his voice.
“No.” The doorman moved to shut the door.
Tanner stuck his foot in the doorway, putting his weight on the foot to keep the door open. “But he said he was going to meet us here! He said … There was a new girl who was so flexible!”
The doorman glared at him. “This is a member’s club, sir. You are not a member.”
“Yes I am!” Tanner yelled.” He began patting his pockets as if to look for something. “I have my member’s card right here!”
With all his attention focused on Tanner, the doorman never saw Liam take the stun gun from his coat pocket. With a quick thrust, Liam jabbed the doorman just under his ribs with the device and triggered it. Two million volts surged through the doorman’s body and he started convulsing. Waiting for a count of three, Tanner then slammed his shoulder into the door, sending the doorman reeling into the hallway. The two men surged through the door. Liam pocketed the stun gun and yanked down his balaclava with one hand. With his other, he reached under his overcoat and extracted a Ruger MP-9 submachine gun that hung under the coat by a shoulder strap. Tanner kicked the still stunned doorman in the groin while pulling out his own MP-9 and pulling his balaclava into place. The pair swept the compact submachine guns through the hallway, alert for immediate threats.
An Asian on the stairs to Tanner’s right shouted something in Chinese and reached for a pistol on his belt. Tanner fired first and the guard shuddered as several 9mm bullets ripped through his torso. He stumbled, then fell down the stairs, landing in a heap at the base of the stairs.
To Tanner’s left the hall opened onto a large room with chairs, couches, a few tables, and half a dozen people. Three were men, well-dressed and clearly customers, while the other three were women, two blondes and a brunette. One of the blondes was middle-aged and once a looker, but life and drink had robbed her of most of it. Wearing a conservative dress, she glared at the intruders. “Who in the hell are you two?”
“We be here to deliver a message,” Tanner said in an Irish brogue.
“You have no idea who you’re fucking with.”
“On the contrary, madam. We be knowing who we’re fucking with. We be fucking with Billy Hong and the Black Dao Triad.”
Tanner saw the madam’s eyes narrow. “You’d better run, you dumb bastards.”
“Not yet. First a little work to show how serious we are.”
Overhead a balcony ran the width of the house. Men and women gathered there, drawn by the sound of gunshots. Most were naked or nearly so, and they all paled at the sight of the masked men.
Tanner called up to them, gun barrel held in the air. “Ladies and gentlemen. Get down here now. If we have to come up and get you, you will not like the results.”
At the same time Tanner was banging on the door upstairs, Bravo team was making their entrance into the Sons of The Western Gentlemen’s Social Club.
It took Dante only ten seconds to use a lockpick gun to unlock the lower door. They pulled down their balaclavas and went through the open door, MP-9s up and pointing down the short hall. According to the floor plans Danielle had supplied, the bottom floor was the kitchen and storage, although there were a couple of rooms next to the boiler that weren’t marked and needed to be investigated.