The Worth of Souls Read online

  Mei-Li’s younger sister Lian-Na had been kidnapped some 12 years prior in Hong Kong by one of the many Triad off-shoots for the express purpose of sexual exploitation of young children and teens. This wretched practice almost netted Mei-Li as well, but she had been at the market when the kidnappers forced themselves into their humble one-room flat in Hong Kong. The reason was simple, their mother owed significant money to the Triads.

  Mei-Li’s mother, a high-class Hong Kong courtesan, had been involved with a member of the French Consulate for over a decade. They were involved for almost the same amount of time. One minor detail he’d forgotten to tell her was that he had a family back in France and so left her with two very beautiful Euro-Asian daughters when he transferred back to Paris.

  Mei-Li’s mother had been killed several weeks later when one of the rival pimps beat her up and stabbed her repeatedly. With her mother gone, Mei-Li took to the streets to provide for the two girls. Then the kidnapping. Within a month, Mei-Li met Fang. The relationship became more intense over the ensuing year and a half.

  Mei-Li took over a bar for a madam who’d contracted syphilis and was in the terminal stages of the disease. Mei-Li organized the accounts and with Fang as a silent partner had the bar almost breaking even when they met LT Kevin Marks, aka Spoke.

  The rest of the story was that Mei-Li was almost killed by someone who believed she was in league with the Hong Kong Police and British Constabulary. She lived through the beating and recovery. Fang had then whisked her off to Taiwan where they were placed in a “protected” status. The crucial revelation pertaining to that horrible beating was that it exposed the Chinese government was heavily involved in narcotics trafficking. It was their goons that beat Mei-Li almost to death.

  Fang re-read the message, his excitement increasing. Could he even think to say no? Could Mei-Li ever forgive him if he did not go? She, probably even more than Fang, wanted to know what happened to her sister. Regardless, what Mei-Li wanted, Fang wanted. In his mind the deal was sealed.

  The instructions at the end of the short message stated he would contact Fang in two more days, more than enough time to re-arrange his schedule. It would also give him a location to meet Spoke. His other concern was telling Mei-Li. Could he do it without raising her hopes? Worse yet, would she try to find him after he left?

  Fang chose not to tell her. Instead, he would make up a cover story for both the office and his bride. He hated to do it, but he felt it was better than getting her hopes up too high. If he was successful, he’d beg forgiveness. It was much better than going through the agony and frustration of asking permission only to fail.

  0530, Two Days Later, INTERPOL Office Headquarters, Kaohsiung, Taiwan

  Fang made it in early so he could look at the promised message traffic from Spoke without an audience. In the six months since he’d known LT Kevin Marks, he’d found in him a courageous and honest man.

  The secure teletype started clacking away. Fang had already cleared other message traffic, so he figured this one was for him. He saw the “From” line and sure enough, it read CINCPACFLT. He waited and read as the yellow paper rose from the machine. He read the first paragraph and knew his destination would be Bangkok, Thailand.

  The rest of the message gave additional details. It appeared Spoke and some members of SEAL Team One, Det B, had once again been called on to locate the daughter of yet another politician in Washington, DC. Because they had been successful before, they were “volunteered” by ADM Donophan to do it again.

  Apparently, the politician was one Spoke had worked with before. He’d become friends with him as well. Ohio Congressman Rodney L. Duke, the ranking member of the House Armed Services Committee, while now a politician, had been a Navy Reserve Commander in Naval Intelligence. Spoke worked with him before when he’d helped ADM Donophan on another project. This had overtones of a favor being repaid by ADM Donophan.

  Fang read on. It seems Spoke had interviewed a madam in Kuala Lumpur who remembered a girl about 10 or so years ago from Hong Kong whose name was Lian-Na. The name was unique enough that her eyes lit up when asked about her. When asked further about many of the girls she might remember, she only stared blankly and said she knew many young girls, they came and went. When pressed for information on where some of these girls were and who, if anyone, was close to them, she only said they should see Rian Mar.

  Rian Mar was a local “merchant” of young girls and boys. His whole life centered on the human trafficking trade. He negotiated for children and likewise sold them to the highest bidder. His entire operation centered on graft; bribes to local officials. This clientele would sooner die than reveal anything about where or who they handled. He paid top dollar for Western Anglo and Eurasian children. He likewise sold these children for huge profits to Mid-eastern sheikhs and warlords as well as Far-eastern harem businessmen. Most buyers were Muslims who could openly justify multiple wives and concubines and in most caliphate-oriented countries, slaves. He had dealings with Westerners whose only interest was for their own pleasure palaces in places throughout the Western Hemisphere, mostly in Central and South America.

  Fang was getting sick to his stomach. Such trash as Rian Mar not only repulsed him, but provoked a level of hatred that was almost primal. If he knew about Lian-Na, however, he could possibly limit his desire to kill this wretch of a human until he found out what he needed to know.

  Fang completed his itinerary for travel and leave for 14 days which would start late that evening. It didn’t take much effort to fool Myan into believing his cover story. He was going on a much-needed vacation. Should anyone make inquiries into his whereabouts, he was on vacation. He would be back in a couple of weeks.

  Next, the extremely difficult part, telling Mei-Li, he would be on assignment. She usually seemed to see right through his subterfuge and cover stories. She would worry, naturally, but it could not be avoided. If he found the information about Lian-Na, she would understand why he had not told her. If he found out nothing of value, she would not be devastated at his silence. She was the perfect wife for an intelligence operative; she listened well, she said little and she followed directions.

  Fang left the office. In the back of his mind, he was struggling to leave care of the office to Myan. He still did not trust the junior agent’s instincts or ability to keep things straight. Still, he must leave to fulfill his duty to himself and his wife. He needed this ‘vacation.’ He phoned Detective Captain Chen Lee of the Kaohsiung Police Department on his direct line.

  After a couple of rings, the familiar voice said, “Chen.”

  “Chen, Fang. Thanks for your help the other night,” Fang was straight forward in his approach with the Inspector. “I owe you one.”

  “You are most welcome and gracious to share your needs with us,” stated a friendly response. “We all benefit when we work together.”

  Implied, but not overtly spoken, Fang surmised that the capture and imminent prosecution of the two shooters was a significant feather in his friend’s figurative cap.

  Good, thought Fang, there will no doubt be payback from the Kaohsiung Police Department and the trust generated by his willingness to remain in the background during the arrests.

  “I will be out of town for a couple of weeks, could you keep a close eye on Myan and the office?” Fang stated matter-of-factually.

  Chen knew what was being said as well as being implied. Myan was not known to be the brightest star on the Christmas tree and could benefit with a bit of ‘adult leadership.’

  “Of course, my friend. We will keep a good watch on our younger friend,” he stated.

  Both men knew that arrests of criminals looked good on Chen’s record and kept his budget well-greased. City councils and voters liked seeing results from all the money invested in their police department. Kaohsiung was no easy place to be a police officer. Elements of smugglers and drug trafficking were rampant on their streets and waterfront not to mention the usual issues of human nature with its ki
llings and theft. There, like Hong Kong, were ‘dirty cops’ that bore monitoring. It was a tough place to enforce the law. Leaving the adviser role to Myan was a risk even for the short time Fang would be gone. It required significant oversight. Chen would be the best thing Fang could imagine.

  What also had not been said, but was implied, was that Interpol with its far-flung resources really helped Chen’s department immeasurably. Returning the favor to Fang occasionally was all part of the deal. Naturally, the little favors of liquid refreshment were silent affirmations of appreciation that all police officers understood regardless of place or circumstances. In some places a couple of dozen pastries covered the bill, but here in Kaohsiung the ticket was booze. For a special job, the gift was the good stuff.

  After his phone call, Fang headed away from his office a different way than he’d gone before. He varied his travel daily. The events of the past several days were still vividly etched in his mind. Once again, he watched for tails. Being paranoid was part of his life. He knew that the moment he let his guard down, he’d be the loser; whether with his own life, his wife’s or his partners.

  Fang looked in the rear-view mirror and noted all traffic. Nothing appeared out of place. He turned and performed a maneuver he called his ‘tail cleaning’ maneuver. If anyone was following him, he hopefully would see it. He then reversed his course and checked again. Clear. Fang headed for his home his mind much more at ease.

  Twenty minutes later he arrived and parked down the street from his apartment, an INTERPOL safe house. Again, he just sat and watched. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary. He opened his car door and stepped out. Quickly, he headed down the street and around to the side for the stairs leading up to his apartment’s kitchen. The security issues may have seemed elaborate, but after Hong Kong, he took no chances. True, it was almost mid-day, but still, all kinds of people watched and bad elements were everywhere.

  Fang entered the apartment. It was eerily quiet. Sensing something wrong, he did not announce himself, but removed his shoes. He quietly moved to each room of the place. Nothing. No note. No Mei-Li. What was going on?

  Fang headed back to their bedroom. It was there he heard it, the almost imperceptible sound – the ‘snick’ of the door’s strike. It sent a chill up Fang’s back. He slipped quickly and silently into the bathroom. The tile was cold on his feet. Strange the feelings you get at the oddest times. His Colt Commander in .45 Auto drawn, he waited for footsteps to come into the living room.

  The figure of his wife became clear. He started to relax, but something in her manner, her stiffness. Something in her movements signaled things were not right. She walked slowly into the center of the living room and stopped. She did not turn.

  Then he heard the other set of footfalls. The owner of these shoes was quiet, but not as quiet as someone in bare feet. Mei-Li turned slowly. Her eyes contacted his, but she showed no recognition. The first soft-soled shoes were followed by a second set of soft-soled shoes. The kitchen was not very large and now with two unknown bodies in there, it was very tight.

  The door closed almost as quietly as it had opened. Fang waited. Mei-Li watched Fang with her peripheral vision. Fang gestured just enough to signal her to fall to the floor.

  Mei-Li hesitated and then leapt for their couch and then rolled to the floor. The movement was so sudden that both men in the kitchen were caught off-guard. The moment Fang saw her clear the couch, he also leaped out and fired two rounds each into the center of mass of the two invaders. Both men crumpled to the floor.

  Mei-Li remained on the floor with her hands on her ears and her eyes shut tightly. The acrid smell of burnt gunpowder filled the room. Gradually the deafening noise of the shots gave way to being able to hear sounds again.

  Fang moved quickly to Mei-Li. She looked up at him and was crying, but she appeared unharmed. He lifted a finger to signal that he needed to check their ‘guests’ in the kitchen. He moved over, gun trained on the horizontal figures and nudged the bodies on the floor with his foot. Both seemed lifeless. He kicked the pistols away from their reach and then turned the first body over with his foot. The man again appeared lifeless. Fang carefully moved over to the other man. As he turned him over, there was a faint sound, an audible groan followed by a soft gurgling attempt to breathe.

  Fang knelt still covering both men with his .45. He reached for the neck of the one who still possessed life. Sure enough, there was a pulse. It was weak but there.

  Fang motioned to Mei-Li, “Call the police.”

  She responded immediately reaching for the phone’s receiver. She looked blankly back at Fang. “It’s dead.” The phone line was as lifeless as the corpse on the floor.

  Someone from outside the apartment had already taken the cue from the gunshots. Sirens could be heard in the distance. Fang traded the almost empty magazine of his weapon for a fully loaded one.

  Four minutes later, four lifetimes later it seemed, two Kaohsiung policemen arrived amidst a screech of tires and vehicle noise. One officer came up the back stairs leading to their kitchen, the other up to the front door. Fang pulled out his credentials and badge and holstered his pistol. He stood up and faced the rear entry.

  “Come in! I’m law enforcement! I’m Special Agent Hsu Feng Jyan!” he said. “There has been a break-in. One of the shooters is dead and one needs an ambulance right away. My credentials are in my hand. My handgun is in its holster inside my jacket. Call Captain Chen Lee immediately!”

  Both young police officers looked at each other. This was one for their books. One apparently dead man on the floor, another wounded man on the floor, and a third man holding credentials demanding to talk with Detective Captain Chen Lee.

  Fang waited for the ambulance, hearing the siren wailing toward them. The man on the floor groaned again. Fang knelt next to him and asked in a quiet, but firm voice, “Who sent you?”

  The response was almost unintelligible, “I do not know.”

  Fang kept up his efforts to keep the man conscious. He asked again, “What is your name?”

  No response. Fang noted that he was not responding to verbal stimuli. He felt again for a pulse. This time there was no heartbeat. Fang looked hard at the man and gently shook him. No response. He shook him harder. Again, no response. He noted the time. He wasn’t sure if the medics could revive him, but he did know that after three minutes, the man’s brain would be gone. He tried to shake him again. Still nothing. Just then, the medics came through the door.

  “His heart stopped about a minute ago. Is there any chance to revive him? I have to know who sent him and why,” Fang verbally fired at the medic.

  “I cannot guarantee anything,” was the reply. “But we need to get him to the hospital fast!”

  Well, thought Fang, this sure screws things up. He turned to Mei-Li. “Get your things together for a quick trip,” he urged quietly. Mei-Li responded as if in a trance. It was apparent she was suffering from severe shock; reflecting on her own recent near-death experience in Hong Kong at the hands of someone intent on killing her.

  Fang motioned to one of the cops that he had to make a phone call but the phone lines had been cut. Fang said he could make the call from his car. The cop motioned for him to do it quickly. Captain Chen Lee was being tracked down as quickly as possible and no doubt would want a report from him. Fang headed out the door and down the stairs.

  Chapter 18

  A New Partner for Fang

  2140, INTERPOL Office Headquarters, Kaohsiung, Taiwan

  “Yes, sir. I had just returned home. My wife was being held by two men at gunpoint. I killed one outright, but the other is on life support at a local hospital,” Fang’s voice clearly held a great deal of stress as he recounted his issue with the Interpol Headquarters at Saint-Cloud near Paris, France.

  Myan had remained at the office after hearing about the shootings and attempt on Fang’s life. He watched as his newly acquired hero paced nervously while speaking to his boss’ boss. It wasn’t like Fang to b
ecome so agitated over situations. He’d always seemed like a stone god – able to take on any problem and beat it at its own game. Clearly here he saw another side of Fang.

  Little did Myan know, nor would he ever know, that Fang was agonizing over what he was going to do with Mei-Li. Would he tell her about the possibility of finding a lead on her sister and having her insist that she would go along? Or, would he concoct some story and then find a way to protect her while he was gone?

  Fang had been in several officer-related shootings and while not enjoyable, this clearly was not new to him. Still, in his mind he wondered about Mei-Li and he sweated and paced even more.

  “Yes, sir,” Fang spoke clearly and with strained respect. “I’ll get the report to you tonight.”

  2230, INTERPOL Office Headquarters, Kaohsiung, Taiwan

  The telephone on his desk rang. It was Mei-Li.

  “Yes, My Love. I’ll be there in about 20 minutes,” he stated with some emotion.

  Fang had placed her in The Grand Hotel prior to returning to his office and calling his boss in France. While not within his budget, the help of his friend Chief Inspector Chen opened doors to “protect a valuable witness in a murder investigation.”

  Chen used his influence to get the room complements of the Kaohsiung Police Department. Once again Fang was in his friend’s debt.

  Myan, relieved that he wasn’t the source of revealing Fang’s location, left for the night. Once again, it was all about Myan.

  Fang headed out the door of the office after making sure his report had been received in St. Cloud, France. He’d turned out the lights and turned off everything else he’d routinely done for the last three months.

  He’d sent Myan home right after making his report to the home office. He was alone. He was still haunted with the decision he had to make in the next 20 minutes. Arriving at his car on the street, he noticed two marked police cars each occupied with officers waiting to escort him to the hotel. Chen had thought of almost everything. Now if he could make the next decision less agonizing he would have won the man of the year in Fang’s mind.