CRIMINAL INTENTIONS: Season One, Episode Three: THE MAN WITH THE GLASS EYE by Cole McCade

Author:Cole McCade [McCade, Cole]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Published: 2018-09-09T16:00:00+00:00

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NIGHTFALL CAME SLOW, AND WITH it an unspoken agreement; as the first evening patrons came filtering into Swabbie’s, Seong-Jae and Malcolm paid their tab and left without a word. They said little to each other, each lost in their own thoughts—save for a murmured conversation that led them to a camping and hunting supply store, where Seong-Jae picked up a pair of high-powered binoculars with a night vision filter.

He peered through those binoculars now, adjusting the focus until he could get a clear picture of the nightside docks where Jason Huang did his business. They were parked four blocks away, toward the terminus of a dead-end service road flanking the fence along the docks, scrub brush lining the curb, a single scraggly tree casting them into shadow, scattered freight containers obscuring direct line of sight from the docks to the car. It only gave Seong-Jae narrow windows to peer into Huang’s world, but it was better than being easily spotted. He scanned the security cameras ringing the area through the binoculars; their power lights were off, their lenses pointed in random directions never quite landing on the loading area where Huang’s men worked.

From what glimpses Seong-Jae could see, Huang’s operation was not yet active this soon after sunset—but nonetheless, security along the perimeter seemed to have at least doubled, if not tripled, since their last visit. Men and women in stark black paramilitary uniforms stood with weapons at the ready, their bearing sharp, professional. A few patrolled between the freight containers, forming an organized cordon of the area.

Seong-Jae lingered, watching their patterns. “That is a good deal of firepower,” he murmured, then passed the binoculars to Malcolm.

Malcolm set his steaming thermos of coffee down in the cup holder, its pungent aroma filling the car, and leaned toward the window, peering through the lenses, then handed them back. “Legal, too. Check their shoulder patches.”

Seong-Jae stole another look, waiting until the closest turned to reverse direction in his patrol, giving Seong-Jae a glimpse of an inverted triangle shoulder patch, surrounded in blue embroidery. He adjusted the zoom on the lenses, until he could pick out Far Hills Private Security in blue-embroidered letters.

“Armed hires?” he asked.

“Looks like. It wouldn’t be the first time. Huang keeps a lot of his perimeter security above board so he can keep his conscience clean by paying them to look in the other direction.”

“Hm.” Seong-Jae lowered the binoculars and leaned back in the passenger’s seat. “Then the armed men we faced last time?”

“Not part of the mercenary crew,” Malcolm replied grimly. “When I worked narcotics, we used to say half the drug business was keeping the gun trade running.”

Seong-Jae tried to bite his tongue, but the words came out before he could stop them, sharp with a seething edge of irritation itching just under his skin. “How have you not used the connection to Far Hills to at the very least indict Huang? Or brought his subordinates in for illegal firearms possession and distribution?”

“You think we haven’t tried?” Malcolm threw back at him.

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