The Red Pole of Macau

( 24 )

In her ten years with Uncle, Ava had primarily worked solo. She was accustomed to and comfortable with the rhythm of her own thought processes, of adjusting to strange countries, of encountering countless strangers and finding a way to bend them to her will. She lived mainly in her own head, driven by a pattern that came as naturally to her as breathing: link A to B and then B to C, and keep going until you get to the end. It wasn’t complicated. People were what made things complicated. Clients who wanted to know about every inch of progress. Thieves who thought they could talk their way out of anything.

When she needed help — not Uncle-type help but hands-on, by-her-side help — she normally went to Derek. Dependable, loyal, ask-no-questions Derek. And even then he was in and out in a day or two, arriving at the tail end of a job when she needed to persuade the target more forcefully. The same was true with Carlo and Andy the few times she’d used them. She had a specific need for them to fill: get in, get the job done, get out.

At the end of the morning meeting, when Amanda joined the group, Ava had found herself looking at the assembly and thinking, How the hell did I get myself into this? It wasn’t enough to have Michael to worry about; she had Amanda, May, Carlo, Andy, three other guys, and Sonny all depending on her, and their collective weight was stifling. And the two women were the largest burden. At least with the guys she could give them an order without worrying about hurting their feelings. With May, and especially with Amanda, she found herself having to choose her words carefully, and that was no way to get work done.

After she graduated from Babson College, Ava had worked for three months for a large accounting firm and quickly discovered it wasn’t for her. She was a crummy employee, she admitted, not good at taking direction, particularly when she thought it was misguided, and she usually thought it was. And she knew she wouldn’t have been any better as a manager, because she wouldn’t have been able to trust her employees to perform tasks capably. Her mother complained that she was a perfectionist. “I’m harder on myself than anyone,” Ava would reply. “And you think that’s a good thing?” her mother would answer.

Maybe not, Ava thought, but she was who she was, and she’d found the job that let her express that.

Less than twenty-four hours to go, she thought as she opened her hotel room door, and then things will be back to normal. In the meantime, all she could do was tolerate the distractions, keep moving ahead, and execute the plan.

She put her phone on the nightstand and then fell on top of the bed. She closed her eyes and thought about the house. It was now so familiar that she almost felt she’d been inside. In her mind’s eye she could see the truck crashing the gate, the SUVs tucked in behind and careering into the courtyard, the men jumping out and running to the door, Carlo with his ram leading the way.

There’s no reason it won’t happen that way, she thought. Sometimes things do go smoothly.

Her phone rang, and she looked to see if it was May or Carlo. It was Uncle. “Hi,” she said.

“Where are you?”

“I’m in my room.”

“I thought you would be busy getting organized.”

“I am organized. I’m waiting now.”

“I just called to wish you good luck.”

“Thanks.”

“Call me the moment it is over.”

“I will.”

“Do you have everything you need?”

She thought, He doesn’t know about Sonny. Before she could catch herself she said, “Sonny is coming with me.”

“I am not surprised.”‘

“I don’t think he wanted you to know.”

“Then I do not.”

“I’m going in at dawn,” she said. “You should hear from me by seven.”

“Be careful.”

“I always am.”

She looked at the clock on the table. It was just past eleven thirty. If she hustled, she could get to Victoria Park before the lunchtime crowd. Off came the business wear and on went the running gear.

It was another beautiful day. Almost surreal actually, she thought when she got to the park. Is this God’s way of giving me something to enjoy on my last day? She got in two quick laps and then one moderate one before she was forced to slow to a crawl. She carried her phone in her hand while she ran, looking at the screen anxiously, fearful of missing a call. The first one didn’t come until she was on the MTR headed back to Central.

“The boat is in Macau,” Carlo said. “No problems.”

“Then head over as soon as you can. Unpack everything, make sure the weapons are clean and primed, and store them in a dry, safe place. You might as well drop off the megaphone while you’re at it; no point taking it to the hotel. Tell your cousin we’ll be at the boat tomorrow morning at five thirty to do the pickup, and tell him I’ll bring money with me.”

“You got it.”

“And then check into the Kingsway and call me when you’re settled. I imagine I’ll be there around dinnertime.”

“I’ll take my two men with me when I go. How about Andy?”

“Leave him and Sonny alone until I hear about the truck. I don’t want to jinx myself.”

“See you tonight then,” he said.

Ava stepped out of the MTR into the crush of lunchtime Hong Kong. She hadn’t eaten breakfast and still had no appetite. She looked up towards the Peak, in the direction of the Mid-levels. It was a quarter to one. Michael should have his photo by now; he should have called Lok. She’d give him until one, and if she hadn’t heard from him by then she’d phone.

When she got to the hotel, she showered and changed back into her business clothes. She packed her carry-on bag: white New Balance runners with black and orange trim, white ankle socks, her black nylon training pants and jacket, the balaclava, black bra and panties, black T-shirt, and her toilet kit. Still no call from Michael. Five more minutes, she thought.

The phone rang just as she was reaching for it. “Michael, is everything okay?”

“I think so. I got the photo right on schedule but I had trouble reaching Lok. When I finally did, he didn’t react very well to our exchange proposal.”

“He was happy about getting cash, I bet.”

“Oh yes, he had no problem with that, but he wanted nothing to do with the lobby of the Venetian,” Michael said without any noticeable concern. In fact, he was calmer now than at any time since her arrival in the city.

Lok’s reluctance was understandable, she thought. “What did you work out?”

“I didn’t agree to anything — I mean, finalize anything. I told him I’d have to speak to my people.”

My people? Ava thought. “Your people are listening,” she said.

“He suggested that we meet in the square in front of St. Paul’s Basilica. He said there’s a lot of public parking nearby. We come in one car, them in another. We park where we can and then contact each other. Lok wants the suitcases in the trunk of our car so they can check them without attracting a lot of attention. If the money’s there, we’ll do the exchange at some midway point between their car and ours.”

Yeah, sure, Ava thought. He’d want someplace open where he could position as many men as he wanted. If she’d had any intention of meeting with him, she never would have agreed to the arrangement. As it was, all she wanted him to think was that at some time on Friday afternoon, somewhere in Macau, Michael would be there with the money. “What do you think?” she said.

“It seems fine to me.”

“Then call him back and tell him he’s got a deal.”

“Just like that?”

“Exactly like that.”

“Okay.”

“Now, can I have a word with Amanda?”

“She’s just left. She’s heading to Sha Tin to spend the night with Jessie.”

Ava’s phone beeped with an incoming call. “Michael, I have to go. I’ll call you first thing in the morning and we’ll finalize our Macau arrangements,” she said, switching lines.

“The truck is in Macau,” May said.

“Fantastic. Are you ready to leave?”

“I am.”

“Meet you downstairs in ten minutes.”

Ava phoned Andy and Sonny. The message was the same. “We’re a go. See you in Macau.”