Singapore Sling Shot (15 page)

An alarm klaxon was sounding from inside the container farm. Then a siren joined in. Had they seen me or was something else going on in there? I could see the flashing lights of a security vehicle racing along the internal road towards the gatehouse. Had someone in a control centre belatedly reported seeing an intruder? Whatever, I had to get as far away from here as quickly as possible. Hell, that had been my entire life for the last few hours. Get away from the fort, get away from Sentosa, and get away from the fucking container farm. Part of me had had enough of running. I wanted to go to sleep.

I sprinted across the road and there was another fence, but this time there wasn't any razor wire and it was only a couple of metres high. I climbed over it easily enough and dropped down a low bank.

In front of me was a wide multi-lane road and there were vehicles, not a lot, but it appeared Singapore was indeed waking up and on the move. I was standing on a wide kerb. There was no footpath. A pedestrian here was going to draw unwanted attention, especially one dressed as I was. I waited until the road immediately in front of me was clear and sprinted across.

It was starting to get light. The sirens and alarms were still sounding. A police car came speeding down the highway I had just crossed. Were they after me? I still didn't know.

There was another fence ahead of me. Man, was I getting sick of fences. Again, this wasn't a particularly serious one. I climbed it and realised that I was at the railway lines. I crossed them and, yes, damn it, there was yet another fence.

“We see you, Daniel.”

“I need a drink and a smoke and a long fucking sleep,” I replied, scrambling over what I hoped was the final hurdle. But it wasn't. There was a road of sorts beside the railway line and beyond that I could see Sami's Mercedes. The lights flicked on and off.

The last fence had either fallen down in part or someone had driven through it; plastic strip filled the gap. I didn't have to climb. I simply stepped over the tape. Sami's driver was holding the back door of the Mercedes open. I fell inside and the door closed behind me.

“I'm fucked!”

“Well done, Daniel. That really was something.”

“Tell me about it!” I pulled off my gloves and dropped them onto the floor at my feet. My hands were wrinkled and soft from too much water. I fished the vinyl pouch out of my zip pocket and passed it across to Sami who was sitting in the front passenger seat. Then I spread out across the back seat, closed my eyes and went to sleep as the car moved off.

17

It was mid-morning by the time I woke. The rear windows of the Mercedes were open. Someone had taken my sneakers off and removed the headlamp, communications unit and hood and put a cushion under my head. There was a rug covering me, and that was probably what woke me. I was cooking.

I was in an underground car park. The place appeared to be full of vehicles. A man sitting on a chair against the wall by the front of the car stood and came towards me as I pushed the rug aside and sat up. The door opened. It was K. His full name was unpronounceable, so years ago he'd switched to just using the initial K. He was one of Jo's former squad guys. Like Jo, he had spent more than a year and a half in the UK at Stirling Lines with 22 SAS. He was tough, highly trained and well-educated and spoke English fluently. We'd worked together on several occasions back in the good old days.

“Good day, Dan. Long time, no see.” K gave me a handshake and a grin. “Sami said for you to please come up to his office when you woke up.”

“Sure,” I agreed. K held out a packet of wipes.

“Maybe you'd like to remove your makeup first.”

I glanced at my face in the driver's mirror. I looked like a refugee from a black-and-white minstrel show. The chemically treated wipes lifted the greasepaint off easily enough. When I'd finished, K passed me a pair of sneakers, new ones. Sami had thought of everything.

I put the shoes on and got out of the car. Now my minder handed me a coat, a classic trenchcoat. I had to chuckle. If Simone were to see me in this, she would crack up. Her guess that I was some sort of spy would have been totally vindicated. I slipped into the coat while K closed the windows and locked the Mercedes. He led the way to the elevator. He obviously had instructions to get me out of public view as quickly as possible. In the lift he produced a key, put it in the panel and sent us skyward.

Simone was at her desk this time round. She gave me a smile.

“Mr Davidson, how nice to see you again. I like the coat!”

For a moment I stared blankly at her and then I remembered my assumed identity. I was obviously still punch-drunk.

“Just borrowed,” I replied, “and it's good to see you, Mavis.”

Simone chuckled at that. “Perhaps I'll see you later. Mr Somsak is expecting you.”

K was waiting at the door to the inner office. He opened it and I went through. Sami was sitting at the desk. The huge model of the island was gone. Sami stood and came to embrace me, clapping me on the back as he did so.

“Thank you again, my friend. It's all there.” He indicated the tiny digital recorder sitting on the desk. “We have Lu pleading with Stanley to sell. He talks of his partners. He's truly terrified of the Mendez brothers. When Stanley point-blank refuses to sell, the pleas turn to bribes and finally threats.”

Sami went back to his seat behind the desk while I took a guest chair.

“Do you want to hear it?”

I shook my head. I didn't need to hear it. As long as it was what Sami needed to bring Thomas Lu down, that was fine by me. “What comes next? By the way, the office looks bare.” I nodded at the space where the model had been.

“It's gone on public display to whet the appetite of the good people of Singapore. There is going to be a tremendous investment opportunity for everybody when the basic structure is completed.” Sami chuckled. “We want to encourage them to dig deep. As to what comes next, there is an investor's meeting scheduled for Friday night. Everyone but Thomas Lu has responded that they will attend.”

“Are you holding it here?”

Sami shook his head. “The consortium has a registered office at the Quillian Tower. That's the big one beside Marina Bay. Their meetings are always held there. I will be making a grand entrance.”

“So they don't know you're involved yet?”

“I doubt it. I'm the mysterious brother.”

“Lu must be shitting bricks!”

“I certainly hope so,” Sami replied grimly, “I most assuredly hope so.”

“What's the news on last night's events?”

“Gun battle at Fort Siloso is the headline. Suggestions are that rival gangs met at the fort and a shootout ensued over drugs. Three found dead, one seriously injured in the original skirmish and three shot dead and several others injured and arrested by police.” Sami gave me a grin. “Am I right in assuming the first three were yours.”

“And a guy with a busted head. It was a hectic night. The OK Corral had nothing on it.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Absolutely exhausted. I think I'll go back to the hotel and sleep for a week.”

“Your clothes are in the bathroom along with your pack. There's a shower in there if you want to use it.”

I did want to use all of the facilities in the late Stanley Loh's bathroom. Showered and dressed, I collected my bits and pieces from the pack, then bundled the one-piece suit and put it back into the sack. I carried the rubber sack back into the office and dropped it onto a chair.

“I think you had better make that all go away. I dumped the gun in bits on my swim. There'll be images of me on CCTV somewhere, but hopefully with the hood, the greasepaint and a bunch of stuff hanging off my face they won't get much to go on.”

“I think the cops are convinced it was a gang scrap. I don't think they're looking for the Lone Ranger,” Sami replied. “By the way, I do have an idea on how to make that grand entrance for the meeting. I want you at my side when I do.”

“Sure.”

“Marina Bay MRT at 20:00 Friday. Look dangerous, something which comes naturally to you, of course.”

“Oh shucks,” I said, doing my best to sound like James Stewart. “You're just trying to butter me up.”

Sami chuckled. “Yeah. We'll be armed. I have no reason on earth to trust Lu to either be there or be there without a bunch of thugs in tow.”

“Watch your back between now and then,” I warned. “If he's got people in the know, he might have already found out you're the new partner and he might try and take you out as well.”

“Jo's flying in this evening and I've got my back well covered.” Sami nodded to K, who was standing by the door. The former Thai Special Forces man nodded back. “You know me, Daniel.”

“That's debatable,” I said as I stood, grinning to show I was joking—not!

“K will have Edward take you back to your hotel. Sleep well, my friend.”

As before, K led me out of the office. Simone smiled up at me. She really was a most attractive woman.

“Going so soon, Mr Davidson?”

“Indeed, Mavis.” I signalled to her the thumb and little finger telephone symbol, screening it from K with my body. Simone gave an almost imperceptible nod. “Take care,” I added as I followed K into the elevator.

Edward was waiting by the car.

Twenty minutes later, I was stretched out on the bed in my room. As is often the case when you're totally exhausted, trying to catch sleep is like trying to catch a handful of smoke. I turned on the television. Local news was playing the gun battle at Fort Siloso to death. I went to sleep.

18

“Thomas, my friend, it is so good to see you again.”

“And you, Raymond,” Lu lied. He was good at lying, but for the past day he had been lying to the Mendez family and that was not a good thing.

The pair of them were meeting in the magnificent foyer of The Fullerton. Raymond Mendez had wanted the Presidential Suite, but it was occupied. Reluctantly, he had had to settle for a lesser one. So far he had managed to control his temper, barely, but inside he was seething and Thomas Lu could sense it.

“The cargo has landed,” Mendez said. “It will be delivered to the warehouse you specified in the morning. Now I think we should go and have dinner and experience a little of Singapore's night life.”

Thomas Lu did not want to spend another second in the company of Raymond Mendez, but there was nothing he could do but agree with the man. To refuse could trigger the psychopath into a bloody rage. Lu had reservations at The Club, the newest and supposedly best restaurant in the city, one that Lu had not yet experienced himself. According to the considerable publicity the Cross Street establishment had garnered in the weeks it had been open, the imported chef had cooked with Ramsay and earned several Michelin stars of his own. It had taken considerable coercion and several thousand dollars to secure a private dining room at such short notice.

Lu's chauffeur was waiting beside the gold Bentley when the pair emerged from the hotel. Mendez nodded appreciatively at the car.

“Very nice, Thomas. I have been meaning to get one myself.”

Thomas Lu grunted noncommittally in response as the men seated themselves in the vehicle's spacious rear. Despite his fear of the younger Mendez brother, Lu was even more scared of Sami Somsak. The Thai was a legend to many in the region, a larger-than-life character reputed to be a guerrilla fighter, bandit, drug lord, pirate, cold-blooded killer or a combination of all, according to whomever was telling the story. Lu had never met the man, but he knew people who had, and people who had incurred his wrath lived to regret it. Again, according to local legend, many others had incurred Somsak's displeasure and had not lived to regret it.

“Will there be girls at dinner?”

Thomas Lu nodded. He knew that in addition to his sadistic traits, Mendez was sexually insatiable. The Mendez brothers had entertained Lu several times while he was in Bogota, and on more than one of those occasions he had witnessed Raymond's appetite for sex first hand. The man's sadistic side had been evident there as well. He was notoriously rough with those women who were unfortunate enough to end up in his clutches.

The “girls” Lu had engaged for the evening were escorts. He had warned the madam who was supplying them about Raymond Mendez's tastes and she had promised to send girls with a masochistic bent, girls who would do virtually anything if the money were right. Thomas Lu was prepared to pay the fee. He needed to keep Mendez out of trouble and maintain as low a profile as possible. It was a big task; however, the last thing he wanted was for Mendez to brutalise a woman and end up in court.

Lu knew there was no way that he could discuss this with the man without Mendez reacting the only way he knew how.

There is no reasoning with a maniac, Thomas Lu thought as they glided onto Fullerton Road.

I awoke late in the afternoon and when I went to use the bathroom, I found that every bone and every tiny muscle in my body was screaming at me. I filled the bathtub with water as hot as I could bear and climbed in, a hefty glass of bourbon in hand. I turned the spa jets on full and lay in the tub absolutely cooking. Now I replayed the events of the night. I ran the mental spool through from beginning to end, analysing it with the eye of the professional I had once been.

I concluded that I had been hellishly lucky to get away with things. Lu's thugs had outgunned me and the cops had come so close to catching me. Running along the train line had been a brainwave but the jump from the bridge into the water had almost got me, and the swim, combined with the madness in the container farm, should have taken me out of the game, given my level of non-fitness.

“Here's to a very lucky lad,” I muttered, raising my glass in a toast to myself.

Later I got even luckier. Simone arrived. We dined in the hotel and afterwards she gave me a massage. Before the massage segued into a lovemaking session, she dealt expertly with my remaining aches and pains. It appeared she had trained as a massage therapist in her younger days. She hadn't forgotten her technique.