A Stacked Deck

by S. H. Linden

part 7 of 10

A large British bank hires a mercenary to change world events in Southeast Asia.

Hong Kong Skyline, Night Time

The skyline had the feeling of power and beauty. All the tall buildings with neon signs bearing names of banks or trading companies told you that Hong Kong was one of the world’s financial centers. The BOFAD logo showed brightly through patches of evening fog that was rolling in from the harbor, and the BOFAD penthouse lights were burning brightly on the top floor of their modem skyscraper.

A small fignre could be seen near a window. It was Elton Green, and he had a glass of Scotch in his hand. He was looking at the boats moving in the water on Stanley Bay, in what seemed to be in silence behind the BOFAD penthouse windows.

Elton Green turned back to the smoky room. What he saw was Sir Brian Rawson, Lord Rivington and George Chang seated around a big desk, talking and shuffling papers.

“What’s the day’s tally, George?” Sir Brian was asking.

“We picked up the China Seas Insurance Tower, that’s a thirty-five story office building with underground garage, for three hundred twenty million, half of market value. Royal Pacific Financial accepted our bid on their sixty-story headquarters for four hundred million, forty percent of book. Mandarin Mutual is giving us a twenty-five story condominium and their thirty-eight floor office tower for five hundred twenty million. Sammy Chu was asking a billion three for the parcel a month ago.”

Sir Brian smiled broadly and poured himself a drink. “Our strategy is airtight. Nothing can stop us now.”

“Not with our deep pockets, old boy,” Lord Rivington said, rubbing his hands with glee. “Just think, the world’s first trillion dollar bank...”

Rivington went over to Elton Green who was still standing at the window. He slapped him on the back goodnaturedly. “Not like you to be in your cups, Elton? This is a time for joy and celebration. Why not have another whisky?” Elton Green gave a weak smile at the suggestion.

Rivington went to the bar and refreshed his drink. Then he joined Elton Green again. For a few moments the two men stared in silence at the beautiful scene in the harbor.

“I was just thinking about China Chong... and what he said at the meeting,” Elton Green said, as he took another swallow from his drink.

“About Faust doing some damage...? That’s nonsense, old boy. Just the ravings of an old man,” Lord Rivington said, half smiling.

Elton Green tried to perk up. “George. What about the Anglo-Colonial Lines? We offered one point two billion for the fleet, the five docks and the headquarters, with air rights. Have they come back to us?”

“They’re holding out. Waiting for the market to rebound.”

“It’ll rebound when I give the word,” Sir Brian said, feeling he now had power over the Hong Kong real estate market.

Lord Rivington walked over to an open window and inhaled proudly the night air. “We’ve cornered the market, gentlemen. Our plan is working.”

A uniformed Asian bank guard emerged from another room. “Mr. Green, you have an urgent call on the secure line. It’s from Washington.”

Elton Green took a deep pull on his whisky and followed the guard.

“He’s a bit off his feed today.” Sir Brian said, looking at Lord Rivington.

“The investigation may be getting to him. We better watch him closely,” Lord Rivington said. He lighted a cigarette and blew the smoke out the window.

In due time Elton Green returned to the room looking sullen and pale. He poured himself another stiff drink and downed it.

“Something wrong, Elton?” Lord Rivington asked.

“That was my general counsel in Washington. I’m under a federal indictment for laundering drug money, That five billion I had on ice from our friends in Latin America has made some Panamanian songbird decide to get immunity. He’s singing a nice little tune to Congress.”

Elton Green took another long pull and emptied his glass. “And the Justice Department is investigating our junk bond offering. Brian, this may turn into a real problem.”

“They’re all worms, Elton. You’ve got the best legal minds money can buy. Your lawyers will prove your innocence.”

“I’m not worried about that... What worries me is the Hong Kong British Community. They will snub me at the polo match. I need their support for my American plans and business deals.”

“We’ll take care of that for you, Elton. You won’t lose any money,” Lord Rivington said, as he studied Green for signs of panic.

“If you wanted to be an Anglophile, you should’ve bought yourself the ambassadorship to London, Elton,” Sir Brian said, leaning back in his chair.

Elton Green noticed the cold tone in Sir Brian’s voice. The tone was almost sarcastic. The others in the room offered the obligatory titters.

Sir Brian was a happy banker. He got up from his chair and looked at his friends. “Let’s have a late dinner on the yacht. We can plan our strategy for tomorrow.”

“Brian, I’d like to pass on this. Would you mind? I’ve got a terrible headache and an early call to Washington in the morning,” Green said.

Sir Brian and Lord Rivington took quick looks at each other.

“By all means, Elton. It’s not that important. Take the night off... Get some sleep. We’ll see you in the morning,” Sir Brian said, trying to sound friendly.

Elton Green went to the closet and got his hat and coat. Before he left the room, he gave a weak good-bye to the group. The room remained silent for a while, each man wondering if Elton J. Green was showing signs of cracking.

“If you don’t mind, Sir Brian, I’d like to pass, too. My mother is in the hospital and I’d like to visit her,” George Chang said.

“Go on, George... be a good son.”

Sir Brian turned to Lord Rivington. “Well, Rivington, it looks like it’s just us... On second thought... let’s skip work tonight. I’ll make a phone call and have a couple of young ladies meet us at the yacht.”

“Brian, that’s the brightest thing you’ve said all day.”

The two men laughed like young college men ready for mischief. The office lights were shut off and the door was closed behind them.

Sir Brian’s office was now empty and only bathed in moonlight. A dark figure came in from another room and walked to the window and looked down at the street. A Jaguar was standing by a curb and a chauffeur got out and opened the door for Elton Green. He got in the Jaguar and the car drove off down the deserted street.

Faust turned from the window, a shaft of moonlight quickly lighting his face before fading away. He went over to Sir Brian’s desk and picked up the telephone.

* * *

The Jaguar Ride at Midnight

Elton Green was staring out the window and looking at the deserted streets of Hong Kong’s financial district. He turned to look out the back window and noticed a lone car was following the Jaguar at a discreet distance. Green looked forward again for a moment, then turned back again and watched the car turn off to another street. He seemed relieved.

“The fog is thinning, sir. It looks like we’ll have good weather for the prime minister.”

Green nodded and smiled, then pushed the button that raised the glass privacy barrier between driver and passenger. Green turned on the reading light and browsed through a South China Morning Post.

As the Jaguar turned another corner, the driver and Green saw two police cars and an ambulance blocking the street. Green lowered the barrier window. “What’s going on up there?”

“Looks like an accident, sir.”

“Go around them. We’re in a hurry.”

“I can’t, sir. The police have the road blocked off.”

A doctor and a nurse were bent over a Chinese man lying on the street. Four Asian men, in police uniforms, were standing at the ready. “Then turn around and take another route, dammit!”

“Yes, sir.”

A van approached the Jaguar, blocking its path. Two Chinese men jumped from the van wielding Uzi’s. Now everybody on the street surrounded the Jaguar.

“Radio for help, you idiot!” Elton Green shouted.

A policeman climbed on the trunk of the car and ripped off the cellular telephone antenna.

“Shoot them! Shoot them!” Green, screamed.

“Too many, sir. We better do what they want.”

The driver got out of the Jaguar and was immediately whisked away in a police car. Two policemen pulled Elton Green out of the car roughly.

“What’s going on here? I’m a U.S. Citizen! You can’t do this to me!”

A man stepped out of the van, and it was Ticky. He walked quickly to Elton Green, didn’t say a word, and whacked Green on the head with his gun butt. Two men grabbed Green and threw him into the van, and the van drove off, tires screeching. The other police car followed.

Green was moaning on the van floor, while the van careened through side streets and eventually wound up at a seedy looking waterfront warehouse. A horn honked and the giant warehouse door rose. The van went inside the warehouse and the door closed.

Ticky jumped out of the van, and with the help of another man, he opened the van’s door and half-dragged Elton Green out and hauled him into an abandon office. They placed Green on a chair and handcuffed him with his arms in back of the chair.

“Who are you people?” Elton Green asked, still half dazed by the blow on the head. “You’re the ones who have been following me, aren’t you?”

“You have been followed by your own people and agents of the U.S. Drug Enforcement Agency,” Ticky said.

“That’s impossible! 1 have people inside the DEA. They’d tell me if something was wrong...”

“Then they lied to you the last time, Senator Green. You were set up.”

“How in the hell do you know all this? Who are you...?”

“I work for the United States Government. But you will be tried by a revolutionary court for crimes against the people of Hong Kong and China, and plotting the assassination of the British prime minister.”

“I’ve done nothing wrong!”

“Your bank has! It’s crooked... What do they call BOFAD? The Bank of Felons and Dictators...?”

“That’s not true! We are a legitimate bank with holdings all over the world. 1 demand that you release me at once!”

Ticky pulled out a 9mm Glock and moved closer to Green. “Your efforts to create a panic in Hong Kong will soon be over, Senator Green.” Ticky placed the 9mm Glock between Elton Green’s eyes. “Do you have anything more to say?” Ticky asked.

“I do not! Now release me, and stop playing games, you ignorant moron!”

“So... I’m an ignorant moron? Yet, you sit in the chair and I’m the one with the gun... Now teII me... who is ignorant...

Ticky pulled the trigger on the Glock, and the back of Elton Green’s head exploded.

Silence filled the room. Ticky left the group as they wrapped Elton Green in an old rug that was standing in the comer.

Outside the warehouse a full moon was beaming down on a black limousine, with its headlights on and motor running. It was parked with a chauffeur sitting at the wheel. A man was sitting in the shadows of the back seat. Ticky walked over and peered in the window. “Elton Green is dead. Faust is next.”

The man in the back seat moved forward with an unlit cigarette in his mouth. Ticky lit it, and with the flame of his lighter, George Chang looked up at Ticky and smiled. He blew some smoke out of his nostrils and said something in Chinese to his driver and the limousine drove off along a dark waterfront road.

* * *

The Jamaica Run Yacht

Sir Brian and Lord Rivington were in the ship’s lounge, dressed in their under shorts. Each man was sipping a glass of port and smoking a cigar. Two Asian party girls were also in the lounge and cuddled up to each of the debauchers. The girls looked sexy in their skimpy underwear.

“This is night fit for a king; right, Rivington? A pity that Elton couldn’t make it.”

“A pity indeed. What’s next, Brian... gold... diamonds?”

“Chips... microchips...”

Lord Rivington laughed. “Today we rule Hong Kong, tomorrow it will be Silicon Valley.” A telephone started to ring onboard the yacht. “I hear a phone ringing,” Lord Rivington said.

“That’s not a phone, Rivington. It’s victory bells!” On that note, Sir Brian threw his glass into the fireplace.

* * *

All-Night Strip Joint at the Waterfront

It was early dawn and Janeway and Nino were sitting at a front row table. A stripper moved down the runway towards them. She bent over and shook her boobs at Nino, who laughed and slipped a hundred dollar bill down her flimsy panties.

Janeway took a belt of Jack Daniels and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. He passed the bottle on to Nino, who guzzled the booze while it dripped down the side of his cheeks. Janeway looked at his watch. He seemed impatient as his eyes darted back and forth to the front entrance of the strip joint.

Finally, Ticky came into the club. He looked around the room and spotted Janeway and Nino and took a seat. He poured himself a drink and downed the whole glass in one gulp.

“Sorry I’m late. Got tied up with a little problem, but it’s fixed now.”

“Yeah, good for you, Ticky, but how about fixing something up for us? Have you found out where Faust is staying?”

“You won’t need an address. One of my little birdies told me that he’s making the hit at the Sunday polo match.”

“In that crowd...?”

“That’s what I said.”

“You know, Ticky, I gotta funny feeling about this hit. Why is the company putting a hit on their best shooter? And who’s going to take the blame? Me and Nino? Are we the fall guys?”

“Relax, Tony. You’re not going to be the fall guys.” Ticky looked hard at Janeway for a long minute. “You know what your problem is, Tony? You haven’t learned to walk on both sides of the street yet. Faust learned it a long time ago, only this time he dug himself a hole. He took on an assigrnnent that was too big for him. You don’t knock off a head of a goverrnnent without the company’s approval... He should’ve known that.

“Now the Prez says he’s doin’ international diplomacy that would be harmful to the U.S. He’s gotta go, Tony. That’s the straight poop. I swear it.”

“You’ve lied to us before, Ticky. How do I know you’re not lying now?”

“Just show up at the polo match and do what you’re being paid to do. That’s all you and Nino have to worry about.”

* * *

A Riding and Saddle Shop

A few wealthy Chinese and British men were browsing and buying fancy leather boots, saddles and polo mallets. Faust was looking at some mallets when a salesman walked nearby and approached him. “May I help you, sir?” The salesman had a British accent and looked like a former athlete.

“Yes. I’m looking for a pair of Di Stefani polo mallets, size fifty-four.”

“Best in the world, sir. Made in the Argentine.”

“That’s right. Buenos Aires.”

“Been there, have you...?”

“A few times. I work for a bank that sends me down there occasionally. The last time, some Argentine friends took me to the open championship. You can’t imagine what forty thousand fans screaming over polo sounds like.”

“Yes, I know...”

The salesman ducked behind a curtain that led to the stockroom. Meanwhile, Faust examined some riding whips and chose two of them. The salesman returned with two mallets.

“What did you come up with?” Faust asked.

‘’I’m afraid we’re out of 54’s, sir. We’ve got a couple of 52’s, though. Just a bit shorter.”

Faust took the mallets and felt their smoothness, then he eyeballed them to see if they were true. “These will do.”

“Playing at the Guards on Sunday, sir?”

“Yes. Can you believe the airlines lost my mallets and the rest of my gear?”

The salesman started ringing up the polo gear: shirt, pants, gloves, jodhpurs, helmet, and the two riding whips.

“What’s your handicap, sir?”

“Don’t have one. I’m an amateur.”

The salesman totaled the bill and handed it to Faust. “Cash or charge, sir?”

“Cash.” Faust produced a few big bills and handed them to the salesman.

“Do you want them delivered, sir?”

‘’No. I’ll take everything with me.”

“Very good, sir. Hope you have an exciting game. And thank you for shopping at Churchill’s.”

Behind the salesman was a poster for Sunday’s match.

GUARDS POLO CLUB
EXHIBITION MATCH FOR THE ROYAL CHARITIES FUND
BRITISH ALL-STARS WITH BRITISH P.M. ALAN LANKFORD
vs HONG KONG INTERNATIONALS
3 p.m. Sunday admission 30.00 HK$
ALL PROCEEDS TO CHARITY

* * *

Proceed to part 8...