Color of Blood(26)

Even before he finished speaking, Dennis had the sensation that another person was talking, a body snatcher that had taken over his corporeal existence. Speaking in platitudes and offering inspirational advice to a woman in emotional distress was entirely alien to him. But even more perplexing was the fact that somewhere deep inside his brain, a micro-portion of dopamine had been released. It felt good to say nice things.

Judy said suddenly, “I really must be going.”

Dennis enjoyed the ride back to the hotel, sneaking long side glances at Judy.

***

The phone rang, and he secretly hoped she would not answer.

“Hello?”

“Beth, this is Dad.”

“How come you haven’t called me? You said you were going to call.”

“Beth, why did you call Langley looking for me? You’ve never done that before. You can’t do that.”

“I guess I was worried about you. You’ve been depressed, and I wanted to check on you.”

“I’m fine, Beth. Really, I am. Please don’t worry.”

“But the kind of work you do can be dangerous as well.”

“Beth, I told you that the work I do is not dangerous. It’s really not. And please don’t call the Langley switchboard looking for me.”

“OK,” she said.

“Beth, I’m fine. I’m sorry I didn’t call. I don’t even know why I told you I’d call. I’ve never called you from the field.”

“You never call me from anywhere.”

“Yes, I suppose that’s true.”

“Dad, I have the strangest feeling that you’re in danger.”

“Oh God, Beth, please stop talking like that. I’m not Jason Bourne or James Bond. I told you I don’t do that kind of work. You’re making me wonder about the wisdom of telling you what I did for a living. You really can’t be calling the Agency looking for me. That’s very bad form. They don’t like stuff like that.”

“Then call me when you say you’re going to.”

“Beth, what’s got into you?”

“Dad, I told you; I’m worried about you. I guess I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“We’re repeating ourselves.”

“Don’t you dare get angry at me,” she said. “Why do you always have to sound so pissed off?”

“Jeeze! I’ll call as soon as I get back to the States. I promise.”

“Good.”

“Good-bye, Beth.”

“Good-bye, Dad.”

Dennis stared at the phone like it was an unfamiliar object and slowly returned it to its cradle. He turned off the light and tried to sleep but found himself focusing again on the tiny blinking red diode on the ceiling smoke detector, a twinkling star full of discord and mystery.





Chapter 12


There was nothing suspicious about his behavior. In fact, Judy noted that he smiled willingly and enthusiastically every chance he got. She entered the airport security line directly behind him and tried her best to look nonchalant, even bored. She wore a black, pleated skirt, white silk blouse, and thin, yellow cotton cardigan buttoned together at the bottom to hide the nine-millimeter Glock she had holstered at the small of her back.

The subject, Chenglei Wu, was a portly male in his fifties who made regular business trips between Perth and Singapore. Wu had been under surveillance for months by investigators from the Australian Crime Commission task force on money laundering. Judy was not convinced they had a strong enough case against Wu yet, but the ACC station chief in Perth was adamant about moving against him.

As one of the few female agents in the AFP, Judy was often assigned to these cases. Initially she had resented being typecast as the “sheila investigator,” but soon realized that it also carried benefits, namely involvement in more complicated organized crime efforts and an opportunity to influence the investigation.

Most of her male colleagues were clueless on the nuances of Chinese gangs and triads, and somehow felt that a female agent would create less suspicion. She did not think the triad members were that stupid, but the chance to be seen as useful by her bosses overcame her own concerns.

Judy inched forward in the security line, toying with her fake boarding pass. Wu turned again and smiled. She flashed a restrained smile and quickly looked away. My God, he’s flirting with me, she thought. Behave yourself, Mr. Wu. You’re in enough trouble as it is.

Wu placed his briefcase on the conveyor belt, took off his sports coat and folded it gently into a plastic tray, kicked off his loafers and placed them on the belt, and leisurely walked through the metal detector.

Judy could see the two uniformed officers of the Australian Customs and Border Protection Service on the other side of the barrier standing with Clive Baker of the AFP strike force. Behind Judy were two more uniformed officers moving up quickly.

Wu had made it through to the other side and was slipping on his shoes and sports coat while Judy quickly flashed her identification badge. The airport security personnel had been told there might be an intervention that morning.

Judy stepped through the metal detector, and the alarm went off as it picked up the Glock. Wu, who had just finished getting re-dressed, looked up as the alarm went off. He and Judy locked eyes as she walked toward him; she saw his face harden to stone as he noticed the other officers stepping toward him.