Separately, the spymaster recommended that Li, the former sergeant-major who had sparred with him, should shadow Chen as backup. Chen was injected with a smaller dose of the same biochemical marker as Viktor to enable Li to track him. Wang felt an obligation to do everything possible to ensure Chen’s return even as he anticipated that the police might have to surrender their inspector to the intelligence agency.

  Over the past week, the three had joined a class set up for operatives preparing for possible assignment in the Philippines. They had been briefed intensively on the local politics and culture, rebels, including the Moros, common phrases in Tagalog, street signs, etc. Chen and Wong had also reviewed all the data the agency collected and analyzed on the arms deals, assuming that Carlos/Hashim’s arrangements with Kim had been independent from that involving the trade for nuclear devices.

  ***

  “Isn’t it possible that the Filipino was unaware he was also purchasing the nuclear devices?” Ma had blurted in excitement during a recent discussion. Wang nodded to the others in the small room to request their thoughts.

  “That would mean, the purchase of the missile launchers was intended by someone else as a screen for the real transaction or exchange,” concluded Gong.

  Owyang, the analyst, thought for a moment and nodded as she frowned and sniffed. “Someone has taken a lot of trouble to mislead us. If I had to guess, it would be whoever attacked Cousin Yu. At any rate, we don’t know where the nuclear devices went. We only know they were in the same warehouse as the missile launchers and probably at the same time.”

  “Were all the nuclear devices there?” questioned Gong. “If not, where are the rest?”

  “Could this be linked to the appearance of Viktor?” asked the acting spymaster, looking at his old boss who nodded. He too had similar suspicions. “Perhaps he has already made his escape from Macau. We should start our trace on his movements now.”

  “If Viktor, or someone linked to him, is involved,” commented the head of analysis, “we have stepped from the world of a petty arms deal down what the westerners call the ‘rabbit hole’.”

  ***

  Two days later, on the Friday morning two weeks after the arms deal had been concluded in Macau, Gong gave the team its final briefing. Chen would proceed alone to Manila while Wong would remain to assist in the continuing analysis of information from Macau, the breach at army supplies, the role of Cousin Yu, and the debriefing of the original arms deal between Kim and the Filipino. Li would follow Chen without his knowledge. They would each learn a different aspect of intelligence tradecraft.

  Gong explained to Chen, “You will meet with Mariam and Emilio, our assets in the Philippines. It is a very fortunate accident that they know Hashim. Mariam was recruited four years ago. She was working, and still works for, the government and its agencies. She is in some sort of pool from which administrative personnel can be sent to offices that are short of staff. She is of Chinese descent and came to us because she felt she could work to assist relations between China and the Philippines. Like many Filipinos of Chinese descent, her ancestors converted to Catholicism and integrated with the native population. Unlike several Chinese Filipino families, they never amassed much wealth to speak of but she did suffer some discrimination and resentment.”

  “In case you don’t already know, Chinese Filipinos make up less than twenty percent of the population. They are mostly of mixed Chinese and native descent and do not usually identify themselves as Chinese, somewhat like those in Thailand,” added Owyang. “‘Pure’ Chinese, if there is such a thing even in China, make up less than two percent.”

  “Emilio is a native Tagalog speaker,” resumed Gong. “His family moved from the north to the south and he became friends with our main suspect Carlos/Hashim while they were at the same martial arts school about fifteen years ago. He agreed to be our asset because of Mariam and because we promised him we would not require him to betray his country. He works in a few youth centers as an instructor of the martial arts, but he moves among the moro rebels with Hashim.”

  “How will Emilio feel about spying on his friend?” asked Chen. “Or do I not tell him?”

  “Well,” said Ma, “we need to find out about the arms purchase, where Hashim will take delivery of the arms, and whether the nuclear devices were ever part of his plans. I don’t know how you can do all this without spying or prying, but this is up to you. You have field discretion. Just remember, we need the information and we would like to keep Maria and Emilio as active assets. You have to assess Emilio’s reaction and weigh that against your mission objectives.”

  “Do you have scruples?” The question came from an unexpected corner, Wong, who was listening in to the briefing.

  “Don’t you,” Chen shot back at him.

  “I don’t know about regular police work,” Wong said carefully so as not to give offence, “but in undercover work, almost everything we do involves a lie or misdirection of some sort.”

  “All right,” conceded Chen. “I appreciate that this is not breaking a police taboo, but you must all understand this is not something I do in my regular job.”

  “The flight leaves in three hours,” announced Gong. “You will arrive five hours later. Take a taxi to your hotel. It is a good hotel in a part of Manila busy with young professionals and tourists. Memorize the name and address of the hotel as well as the final briefing notes in the package. Then flush those pages down the toilet. Don’t worry, they will dissolve. The telephone number in the notes will connect you to someone at our embassy who will take care of you. But use it only in the event of an extreme emergency.”

  ***

  Mid-morning the next day, Chen navigated his way to a meeting place in the food court of a shopping center. He was dressed in internationally undifferentiated slacks and polo shirt. He met a couple he recognized from pictures he had memorized and exchanged pass-codes. They handed him a cell phone, with three numbers already programmed, Mariam’s, Emilio’s and Hashim’s. Then Mariam led the way to her car in the parking lot. She drove them to the International Container Terminal. Softly, in a low voice that seemed to caress each word, she said, “This is where it is most likely the goods you speak of have arrived. We will first go to my office and hopefully you can hack your way into the port terminal’s information system. Let’s see if we can locate shipments from Guangzhou and Hong Kong. More specific information like a date or a ship’s name would have been nice.”

  “This whole business has been an embarrassment on our side,” replied Chen in a tone full of chagrin. “The army is furious to find that it has been robbed. The military police department is beside itself for losing the trail of a person who might have been able to tell them where the goods were headed. The only thing we know for sure is that it contains items purchased by Hashim.”

  He glanced at Emilio, who responded guardedly, “I have not heard of any plans involving missile launchers or those weapons of mass destruction, but Hashim will be back tomorrow or the day after. He has called several times while away but this is not something to discuss over the phone.”

  Chen noted the stress in Emilio’s voice and wondered what might be the cause, then he asked, “How’s the parking where we are headed?”

  “Hah,” exclaimed Mariam. “It is a little better than the traffic. We will find a place to park at the office or in a hotel nearby and walk. I hope you have comfortable shoes.”

  Just before they entered the office building, Mariam was recognized by a fellow-worker who called out and teased, “Mariam, how nice to be a temp. You can come and go as you please.”

  “Actually, it’s my day off to play tourist with a long lost cousin,” responded Mariam pointing to Chen. “I have to pick up the purse in which I keep my city make-up. You remember Emilio, right?”

  “Of course,” retorted her colleague, “I warned you that if you keep bringing him around, I would have to seduce him.”

  All laughed as the three entered. Most of the workers were leaving for lunch. Chen commandeered a desktop while Mariam looked over his shoulder with a notepad and Emilio took a desk between them and the entrance in case any employee should show enough curiosity to approach.

  “Working through lunch?” called out one of the staff. Mariam responded with a gesture behind Chen, suggesting he was a demanding supervisor who had made her do it. Emilio waved cheerily at the last group to walk out. One or two others still stayed at their desks.

  Typing swiftly, Chen found the network path to a file of containers in all three areas of the Port of Manila. He located several likely shipments and gestured to Mariam, who noted the warehouse numbers and addresses. Their search was completed as staff started to return from their lunch hour.

  “Wow, that was easy,” declared Mariam. “The rest of your trip should be so blessed.” Chen shrugged. Emilio merely smiled as he declared,

  “I missed breakfast this morning.”

  They walked into the bright humid day as a light breeze brought smells from the harbor.

  Chen declared, “What you are doing to help us is very much appreciated. The weapons stolen included some very dangerous devices. I need to confirm that none of those arrived here. If at any point it gets uncomfortable for either of you, however, please let me know.”

  “All right,” remarked Emilio. “Just keep in mind Hashim is not just a very good friend, he is like our brother.”

  In the food court of a shopping center nearby, there was parking and a selection of international eateries. The three made their way to a Korean barbecue stall. Mariam turned on the radio of her smart-phone and placed it on the table. Chen recognized it as a good way to thwart electronic eavesdropping and also that the music was the light pop he remembered from his previous visits.

  “I’ll have the bulgogi,” announced Emilio. “I just love the charbroiled, sweetish soy sauce flavor of the beef. I understand what we taste includes what we smell so the sizzle must help. Are you going to stick with those cold noodles as usual, Mariam?”

  “Yes, Naengmyeon. They don’t have the best buckwheat noodles here but they do everything else, the beef broth, cucumbers, beef, and kimchi perfectly. Something cold right now sounds good to me.”

  “I noticed a stall where they make halo-halo next door,” remarked Chen. “That would be my choice for a cold treat after lunch.”

  “Oh, you like that?” cried Mariam delightedly.

  “Everybody likes halo-halo, even Hashim,” Emilio retorted.

  “Why doesn’t he like halo-halo?” inquired Mariam.

  “He does. But he keeps talking about the dates and chopped nutmeg treats from his youth. I think he is just hanging on to his memories,” explained Emilio.

  For his lunch, Chen ordered bibimbab with extra seaweed and mushrooms and without the egg even after being assured it would be cooked first. “Do they put chopped up preserved radishes in this?”

  Mariam brightened up and declared, “My mother always included it in her fried rice with left-over pork or duck sausage.”

  “Well, I think of bibimbab as a variety of fried rice and a good test of a Korean restaurant. Besides, I like the crunch of the radishes. It reminds me of home cooking.”

  “So what do you do in your day job?” inquired Emilio, abruptly changing the subject as they waited for their orders to be filled.

  “I’m a policeman,” replied Chen to stunned silence and then an explosion of hysterical laughter from his companions. “What’s so funny?” asked Chen as he smiled weakly to the restaurant crowd with a shrug and a shake of his head to suggest he had no idea what had set his companions off.

  It took a while before either Emilio or Mariam stopped their raucous braying and giggles or for the restaurant crowd to turn their attention back to each other and their food. Emilio still chuckled as he explained,

  “That was precious. You are so straightforward. I guess we thought you would have a whole story made up. Maybe you’re here to make a movie or something like that. I mean we do know why you are here, but for you to simply announce what you do is … just … amazing.”

  “Well, I’m new at this,” admitted Chen, which sent his companions into more hysterics. The other people in the restaurant simply shook their heads, thinking their table must be having a good time.

  “Well, could you try to be more sneaky?” advised Emilio before he dissolved into further hysterical chortles.

  After lunch and a cheery wave to the staff of the restaurant, the three made their dessert stop. They had extravagant versions of mixed fruit, beans, shaved ice, rose syrup, sarsaparilla flavoring, and a choice of evaporated milk or coconut milk. Mariam oohed over the glistening macapuno and suggested that Chen add jackfruit to his order. Emilio ordered extra red beans, prompting Chen to ask for the same and then he asked for more grass jelly because it was ‘healthy.’ As they left, Chen excused himself and returned with a small paper bag.

  “New phones,” he explained. “They are my present to you and Hashim, although you don’t have to tell him who bought them. You should soon dismantle and throw away the ones you are currently using.”

  “We know about this tactic,” protested Emilio. “We don’t need to do this now.”

  “No,” agreed Chen. “But you will soon.”

  “How will we know when?” asked Mariam.

  “You will know,” declared Chen.

  ***

  Just after dark, they returned to investigate the warehouses. It was hard and slow work getting into the buildings and then inspecting the containers to find the ones that might contain the shipment they were looking for. Chen thought wistfully of the troops that the police or intelligence agency would deploy if this had been in China and turned reluctantly to yet another container to find out if its markings matched any of those they were looking for.

  As they trekked towards the third warehouse on their list, Emilio signaled with a low whistle that they had company. They pressed themselves into deeper shadows as four men slipped towards the building. Just then, a truck with its headlights off wheeled into view and stopped by the entrance. Four men moved quickly towards the door and opened it wide. They went in as the truck driver moved his vehicle around to facilitate the loading of crates.

  “One of them is Hashim,” whispered Emilio.

  “It’s possible though I can’t tell for sure since the men are wearing light cotton versions of ski masks,” murmured Mariam.

  Two more men came from the truck to help the four locate the crate. They had picked a moonless night for this operation and moved quickly but it still seemed a very long time. The three watchers did not dare move much beyond stretching muscles that threatened to cramp up. Emilio tapped Chen lightly on the chest and signaled driving a car that would follow the truck. He pointed emphatically to Chen and then indicated that Mariam and he would not be part of that exercise. Mariam handed Chen the keys to her car as he nodded that he understood.

  Eventually, the six men maneuvered two crates into the truck and drove off. Chen smiled a quick farewell to the Filipinos. Mariam whispered huskily as she left, “I filled it with gas this morning. Good luck.”

  “I’ll call when this is over,” Chen responded, wishing he felt as confident as he made his voice sound.

  The truck left the terminal with Chen following at a respectful distance behind. Once on Bonifacio Drive and steering south, Chen recognized with relief the bay on his right and the prospect of the Manila-Cavite Highway ahead of them. It brought back memories of his previous visits. He looked forward to the sight that he had found uplifting every time he saw the highway follow the curve of the bay, heading south then west. Following the truck but keeping two or three vehicles behind it became a restful break from the tense adventure of breaking into the terminal complex and then hunting through the warehouses.

  Chen followed the truck more closely as it left the main road but allowed it to pass into one of the side streets without following when he judged they had nearly arrived.

  “I should have memorized Hashim’s address and the map of the area he lives,” murmured Chen to himself. “I bet that’s where we are all headed.”

  He turned into a parallel street and glimpsed the headlights of the truck from time to time. Where it stopped, he did not see, but hazarded a guess and parked as soon as he could. He doubled back and traced his way to the house where the truck had stopped to unload. Hashim had brought the crates to his own house.

  Wong should be here doing this, thought Chen as he approached the house with as much stealth as an officer stuck at police headquarters could manage. He remembered little about undercover work from basic training and relied solely on instinct. The briefing notes had included a description of the house. It was a small wooden unit separated by bushes and driveways from its neighbors and the surrounding area. Chen found a place from which to snoop and confirm for himself the unloading of both crates into the house. To determine what was in those crates and the intended purpose, he decided, would require breaking into the house and then the crates or a meeting with Hashim. The first option seemed out of reach, but the second would expose two well-placed assets in the Philippines.

  He decided against both options and crept closer to the house. He would see what his miniature radiation scanner might reveal. When the scanner revealed the presence of a low level of radiation, Chen decided he had verified delivery of the crates from Macau.

  ***

  “Hello, Mariam,” Chen said softly into his phone. “Where do you want me to take your car?”

  “Probably best if you can find your way back to your hotel, to do that,” she replied. “What next?”

 

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