She reached for the door, then paused, staring Derek down. “You used me. I won’t forget that. Or forgive it.”
Sloane was more than halfway to her parents’ apartment when her cell phone rang again. She clicked her Bluetooth headset to answer the call. “Sloane Burbank.”
“It’s me,” her father said tersely, keeping his voice as low as possible.
“Dad? What is it?”
“It’s bad, Sloane.” His voice held that same strained sound it had the night of the robbery when he’d called her from the hospital. But now, it was muted to almost a whisper. He was clearly desperate to keep Rich Williams from overhearing him.
“I just got a call from your mother,” he said
. “She’s in the hospital. In the Bronx. The man who picked her up this morning wasn’t her driver. He was some Asian thug. He must have gotten behind the wheel while Fred was getting coffee, and Jake and Tom were changing shifts. The son of a bitch kidnapped her, broke her arm, and was taking her to God knows where—to kill her.”
Sloane felt ill. “How do you know that?”
“Because he told her. He said he was killing her to punish me. That the FBI was about to drop in and I’d talk. How the hell he knew Williams was on his way over here, I have no idea. All I know is that there was a traffic incident, your mother jumped out of the car, and she ran for help. I don’t have specific details. She’s on heavy pain meds and I don’t want to grill her. But I can’t leave the apartment to go to her. Not without giving Agent Williams an explanation. What should I do?”
Before clamping down on her personal feelings, Sloane asked one question. “Are you sure Mom’s all right?”
“Yes. I spoke to her doctor.”
“Good.” The professional Sloane Burbank kicked in. “Give me her doctor’s name and number. I want the hospital staff to keep Mom comfortable—and there—until after I’ve had my talk with Williams. My goal is to get rid of him without mentioning this—for now. We’ve got enough on our plate without adding Mom’s attack and abduction to the mix. There’ll be plenty of time to fill him in later.” A pause. “Unless the cops have already been notified.”
“No. Your mother’s smart. She’s using the fact that she’s in too much pain and too woozy from the meds to provide a coherent story. So no cops are involved yet.”
“God bless Mom. She’s buying us time.” Sloane felt a wave of relief. “Let’s put it to good use. First, hang up the phone. We don’t want to make Williams suspicious. I should be there in a half hour. Then we can deal with one crisis at a time.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Xiao Long had gotten involved with the triads when he was ten. He’d done two-bit jobs and worked his way up to debt collector and muscle for local brothels and gambling parlors. But he’d spent his entire youth working to get in favor with the Liu Jian Triad and its Dragon Head, Liu Jianyu, or as he was known to the world, Johnny Liu.
The first time Xiao had laid eyes on Liu, Xiao had been eleven, and Liu had been getting out of a huge, expensive car. Flanked by bodyguards, Liu had walked into a business meeting, carrying himself with an air of authority and cold-blooded ruthlessness that resonated inside Xiao. It was as if he were Liu, or, at the very least, Liu in the making.
From that moment on, Liu became Xiao’s icon, the inspiration for all he wanted to do and to be. And nothing would stop him from getting there.
The obstacles would be many. Xiao hadn’t been born into the triad leader’s world. He was a poor, street-smart kid from Fujian. The only dialect he spoke was the poorly regarded Fukienese. Liu hailed from Guangdong, as did his other triad members. Cantonese was the dialect spoken there, as it was in most cosmopolitan regions. So by the time Xiao was twelve, he’d made it his business to learn Cantonese.
He hadn’t stopped at that.
Liu was from the village of Loong Doo, which was very close to Macao and just a quick hop from Hong Kong. The Loong Doo were a tight, impenetrable clan, whose loyalties extended first and foremost to one another. They were also resourceful, enterprising, and stubborn. Most of all, they were risk-takers who aspired to raise their social status and took the necessary chances to ensure that it happened. Their dialect was unique to them. It gave them pleasure to speak it to one another so that other Cantonese couldn’t understand them. Conversely, they themselves spoke other dialects of Cantonese and Mandarin so that they could converse with non–Loong Doo Chinese.
Xiao Long’s next order of business had been to learn the Loong Doo dialect. And he’d done so in record time.
How fitting that Loong Doo translated into “Dragon Society.” The Dragon Head of the Liu Jian Triad was a great leader who’d established himself in society. Xiao had dug deep for every shred of background information he could find on Johnny Liu. He knew what Liu was, as well as what he appeared to be. And he knew it took a unique and brilliant mind to walk such a difficult tightrope.
To the Chinese people, Liu was regarded as a wealthy entrepreneur. Also as a philanthropist, who contributed many great works of art—pieces that had deep cultural significance—to China’s museums, as well as donating large sums of money to hospitals and charities.
Those who suspected Liu of being involved in criminal enterprise were more than happy to turn a blind eye to it. And the law enforcement community had no concrete evidence of wrongdoing, so they were more than relieved to stay away.
Of course, on that score, Liu had had some help over the years. He’d been of great use to the leaders in Beijing during the Communist takeover of Hong Kong from the British in the early nineties. Thanks to the information Liu provided, prodemocracy activists disappeared. As a reward, Liu was afforded power and protection. In addition, he had a strong ally in Sergeant David Keong of the Hong Kong Police Department, also a Loong Doo. Keong was a personal friend of Liu’s—and a well-rewarded one. He aided Liu in many ways—from keeping the transport of packages from Europe and the States under the radar, to ensuring that visitors like Xiao Long bypassed customs when getting in and out of the country. He served as a good, loyal associate to the triad, as well as to Johnny Liu.
Xiao was single-mindedly determined to become an indispensable part of Liu’s world.
Perseverance, ambition, and results paid off. Xiao popped onto Liu’s radar. Repeatedly, the Dragon Head heard the name of this smart kid from the Fujian province who’d beaten the odds and busted his ass to make something of himself. So he’d sent for Xiao—one of the most treasured, honored days of Xiao’s life—and offered him a place in the Liu Jian Triad. Xiao would start small—smuggling twenty units of heroin from the Fujian province—and, based upon his loyalty and success, work his way up, handling bigger and bigger drug deals.
Xiao had followed the rules and exceeded expectations. But he was looking for a more impressive opening—one that would propel him into Liu’s inner circle.
He’d found it.