Sightings by Charles D. Taylor

Author:Charles D. Taylor [Taylor, Charles D.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: military fiction, navy seals
Publisher: Crossroad Press
Published: 2015-07-14T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

“I don’t know what I’ll do—or say, for that matter—if I see Jerry again.” Leila spoke with conviction. “I’ve thought about it so often since the Wall, especially on the flight over here, and I still have no idea.” Yet here she was in Hong Kong. The possibility of encountering him face to face, so remote a few days before, impossible a week ago, had become a reality. Hong Kong! Even that was hard to believe. She’d never been this far from home before. But her world had turned upside down in just one week.

Matt Stone sat across from her sipping a beer. “If you see him again, Leila, you can be damn sure you won’t be alone this time.”

“Believe me, Leila, there will always be someone around, whether it’s our people or Mr. Chan’s.” The man who spoke was an acquaintance of Stone’s, Danny Slade, another navy commander who’d met them as they came through Immigration at Kai Tak Airport.

“Thanks, Danny, you’re kind to say so. But I’m so exhausted after the trip over here that I think I’d sleep like a baby tonight even if I knew he was going to break down my door.” They were having a light dinner in the cafe of a hotel in Kowloon. It was an older hotel catering primarily to an Asian clientele and had been selected by W. P. Chan because few Americans stayed there.

The fourth individual at their table was Detective W. P. Chan of the Hong Kong police force. He was a diminutive individual, smaller even than Leila, with tiny black eyes, a full head of rich black hair, and a round, ageless, expressionless face. But Slade had explained as they drove in from the airport that Chan also had a reputation as one of the toughest men on the Hong Kong force. Slade had said with a grin, “He’s known as the Mongoose because of his temperament and persistence. He’s tenacious, as they say, and he’s also a Hong Kong legend.”

“Miss Potter,” Chan said solemnly, “I will back up Commander Slade completely on your safety. But his tall white Americans can’t enjoy the anonymity that my own people do. Caucasians, unfortunately, are recognized quite readily in Hong Kong, especially those who are obviously not tourists. My best men will be on duty twenty-four hours a day here in the hotel. And they will know every step you take while you’re in Hong Kong.” His English was as clear of any accent as their own, and he employed Americanisms like a native. W. P. Chan had been selected years before to take part in the FBI training program at Quantico because he’d already become one of the top special investigators in his own country.

“W.P. is correct. It would be foolish to use round-eyes,” Slade agreed. “A dead giveaway to someone like Santucci.” Danny Slade was hard to read. He had a full head of prematurely gray hair which went along with his rank, but clear blue eyes and smooth baby face made him appear much younger.

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