Gunmetal Gray

CHAPTER EIGHT

Fifteen minutes later Court sat in a modern home office space three flights of open stairs above where Fitzroy was kept. A massive projection television screen adorned one wall in front of a comfortable seating area, and beyond that sat a conference table for twelve. At the far end of the room from the entrance, an enormous black desk sat right in front of open sliding glass doors leading to a balcony that Court estimated to be larger than Fitzroy’s entire quarters downstairs.

This residence surely cost tens of millions of U.S. dollars, so it was no surprise that the balcony and office sported jaw-dropping views of the skyscrapers of Hong Kong Island, Victoria Harbor, and, beyond that, the southern tip of the Kowloon Peninsula.

Court sat in a leather wingback chair in front of the desk and snuck glances out past the balcony. He imagined he could probably pick out the Peninsula hotel in the hazy distance if he looked long enough for it, but instead he focused on other buildings, trying to orient himself, to pinpoint his location for use later. He did not want to give away what he was doing, so he returned his gaze to the man seated behind the desk in front of him.

Dai was in his late forties, healthy-looking, and he wore a dark suit with a shiny gold necktie. A bit of his parted gray-black hair hung over his forehead, but otherwise he was perfectly composed, and Court detected the posture and bearing cues of a military man.

But the man’s background was less important to him than the man’s present disposition, and Dai’s eyes told Court what he needed to know. The man had suspicious, almost paranoid eyes, and they had spent all of the previous two minutes scanning Court’s face while both men sat in complete silence.

Court glanced out the balcony doors again at the skyline in the distance, waiting for Dai to speak. He did his best to give off a slight air of insolence. He would not show any fear, subservience, or deference, because Court didn’t want to give this man any reason to think for a second he’d had anything to do with the disappearance of the two Chinese officers from the evening before.

No, Court was just a hired hit man looking for work, fresh off a boat from London and now held against his will by a bunch of guys who were also holding his handler hostage.

He wasn’t scared; he was pissed.

In addition to Dai, five more men occupied this sprawling office, either sitting on the sofa in front of the projection TV or standing at ease in the corners. They were Dai’s bodyguards; that was clear to Court. He could see butts of pistols in shoulder holsters, and one of the men by the door had a submachine gun hanging under his right arm, but none of them were particularly on guard at the moment.

Finally the man behind the desk spoke, and Court fought any expression of relief that the examination was over. “I am Dai.”

“Okay. I am Joe.”

“No. You are Courtland Gentry. The one they call the Gray Man. We know who you are. We came to Fitzroy in the first place to secure your services, but he told us he fired you years ago.”

“He’s an asshole and a liar,” Court said. “He didn’t fire me; I quit.”

Dai regarded this comment in silence. Court hoped the comment, along with Dai’s listening in of the conversation between Gentry and Fitzroy, would convey a quagmire of complicated but ultimately irrelevant issues between the American and the Brit. It would help solidify the ruse that Gentry had come to Fitzroy just at this time out of need, nothing more.

Dai said, “Whatever reason you left his stable of contractors, when we found out you weren’t with him any longer, he offered up two other teams of men to fulfill his contract. Both failed.”

Dai’s command of English was impressive, Court thought, even if his accent was strong.

Court said, “And now, like a rat to cheese, I’ve come back. Lucky you. I’ll do the job. I’ll start today.”

Dai ignored the American’s comment. “You are quite legendary. We have followed your exploits around the world. Most recently you were in Washington, D.C. Making yourself even more of an enemy of your countrymen, from the look of things.”

“That was a misunderstanding. I went home to clear things up. Nobody wanted to listen. Now it’s time I go back to work.”

Dai nodded slowly, taking in Court’s words, tone, mannerisms, and expressions like he was trying to solve a puzzle. He said, “When you went to Wu and inquired about Fitzroy, you gave him the address of your hotel. Did you not think it possible he would sell you out to us?”

Court doubted Wu had sold him out. It was much more likely that the MSS had been listening in to the conversation. Still, he said, “I was counting on it. Wu would sell me intelligence about Fitzroy, and then he would sell whoever had Fitzroy intelligence about the man looking for him. I figured whoever had Fitzroy would come to me to see who I was.”

“And how did you know anyone had Fitzroy?”

“That’s easy. Sir Donald doesn’t take vacations. He came here for an urgent work matter; then his staff in London lost contact with him. It was a simple thing to guess he’d been snatched by the men who hired him.”

Dai nodded slowly, apparently satisfied that Gentry’s story made sense. He said, “I work for the Chinese government.”

Court made no expression, but he said, “This is my shocked face.”

Dai didn’t understand the quip, but he let it go.

Court said, “Honestly, I kind of figured it was some local gang who picked up Fitz. I wasn’t looking to get mixed up with government guys. When your boys grabbed me in my room and brought me here… I recognized them as pros. I took them immediately for MSS.” Court shrugged. “Whatever. As long as your money’s green, I guess.”

Dai said, “I am not MSS. I am MOD. Defense. Some of these men are mine; some are borrowed from MSS.”

Court acted like he didn’t care. “You had the sense to leave your uniform home in the mainland. Like I said, you’re a pro. You’re a general?”

“A colonel.”

“Hang in there.”

The Chinese officer cocked his head a little, confused by the patter. Court was still playing a character, three times as smartass and annoying as he would normally be, and it appeared to him Dai was coming to terms with the fact that the legendary American hit man in front of him was a peculiar fellow.

Dai said, “I am sure Fitzroy told you this job had turned out to be difficult for his men.”

“Yes, he told me. But I will not fail.”

“We will see, Mr. Gentry. First I have to ask you about a recent incident.”

Court felt tension in the pit of his stomach. “Incident?”

“Two men working for me here in HK were killed last night. Do you know anything about that?”

Court feigned a look of surprise. “Sounds like you are closer to your target than you are admitting.”

“These men weren’t pursuing the target. They were on a separate errand. They were to follow a man dropped off by a CIA plane. They tracked this man to the Peninsula hotel. Their bodies were found floating in the middle of the harbor by a passing ferry this morning.”

Court stared blankly. “The Peninsula?”

“That’s right.”

“The nice hotel with the Rolls Phantoms out front?”

Dai raised an eyebrow. “You know it, then.”

“I’ve been here before, back when I had money. I’m here in HK this time because I need money, remember?”

“Tell me… why is it you are so desperate for money?”

“Let’s just say I made some arrangements with some people to get me out of my last jam. The deal stipulated I would get the money to pay them off.”

“Or?”

“‘Or’ doesn’t matter. I do what I tell people I’m going to do.”

“These people, were they CIA?”

Court played his role to the hilt now, cocking his head as if he were wondering if the person asking the question might possibly be mentally deranged. “The CIA? You think I bought my way free of the Agency? I fucking shot my way out, pal.” He rolled his eyes. “Pay off the CIA? They don’t need me to pay them off. They are part of the U.S. federal government, the guys that print U.S. dollars, or didn’t you know?”

Dai asked his next question in a flat, emotionless voice. “Did you arrive in a Dassault Falcon yesterday?”

Court furrowed his eyebrows. “No. I came in a freighter.”

Dai took this without comment.

Court sighed now, feigning frustration. “You suspect me of being a CIA officer who stays in five-star hotels. If you knew as much about me as you pretend to, then you would know the CIA has done everything in its power to terminate me for the past five years. You’d also know I’m flat broke. I left the U.S. with the clothes on my back and no more than a thousand dollars. Is this a joke or are you really that incompetent?”

Dai’s face reddened a little, but he didn’t argue. Finally he said, “Very well. I’ll find out who killed the two officers, and I’ll deal with them. As for you, your target is now a man named Fan Jiang.”

Court nodded, hiding his relief that, for now anyway, he seemed to have talked his way out of trouble. He said, “Fitz didn’t tell me much about the target.”

Dai reached into a drawer in his desk and pulled out an eight-by-ten photograph of a young soldier wearing the uniform of an enlisted man in the People’s Liberation Army. He stared lifelessly into the camera through thick eyeglasses, his small frame swallowed by the camouflaged tunic he wore and the peaked hat on his head. Court couldn’t imagine this kid weighing over 110 pounds, and he appeared to be in his early twenties.

“He is a defector from the mainland,” Dai added.

Court cocked his head. “You are going to a hell of a lot of trouble to punish your defector.”

Dai did not reply.

“Fair enough. This little fellow has taken down contract killers sent by Sir Donald Fitzroy. How did he manage that? Is he some sort of a trained commando?”

Dai laughed without smiling. “He is nothing. Nothing. An information technology specialist. A computer hacker. He is being helped by Wo Shing Wo.”

“Who’s he?”

The colonel did not hide a look of disappointment. “Not a ‘he.’ A they. They are Triads. A criminal organization. There are fifty different Triad groups operating in Hong Kong; this place is a cesspool of crime.” His jaw flexed. “One of many nauseating, disgusting results of capitalism.”

“Fitzroy says he sent two teams. One team is dead, the other team missing.”

The man behind the desk just said, “They are dead, as well.”

“Fitz didn’t say that.”

Dai swiveled his chair around and waved a hand at the massive sprawl of Hong Kong out past the open balcony door. “Look at this place. There are probably ten mobile phones for sale on every square meter of Hong Kong. You think Fitzroy’s team wouldn’t call in if they were still alive?”

It was a fair point, Court did have to concede. “And you think these Wu Tang guys did it?”

“Wo Shing Wo. We only assume so.”

Court swept his hand around, a gesture to the armed men standing around the room behind him. “Why don’t you get these guys to just go find Fan Jiang? Surely you don’t need a dozen men here to watch over Sir Donald.”

Dai looked annoyed. “I do have many teams of men in HK already, turning over all the rocks we know to turn over, and we haven’t found our target. We assume Fitzroy’s men got close to the objective, so we give them credit for that, but we also give credit to our adversaries, because clearly they have the ability to fight.”

Dai leaned forward, his forearms on the big desk. “You have a reputation for always finding your prey. For Fitzroy’s sake, you’d better be as good as your reputation.”

Court turned serious. “This guy is that important to you? You’d really kill Fitzroy if Fan Jiang gets away?”

The other man did not blink. “Without so much as a moment’s hesitation. You should keep that in mind.”

Court just cocked his head again. “Why? I’m not doing this to keep Fitz alive. His troubles with you are his problem. I’m taking this gig because I need the money.” Court leaned closer himself. “And maybe if I pull this off for you, you can slide more jobs my way. Maybe there are others out there you’d like dealt with.”

“Not at this time. Let’s concentrate on Fan Jiang.”

Court was deep into his role now. “That’s fine. I’m just saying… something comes up in the future, we don’t need to involve Fitzroy. We can cut out the middleman.”

Colonel Dai did not bat an eyelash. “Mr. Gentry, I can, quite literally, cut out the middleman right now.”

Oops, Court thought. He’d just accidentally advanced the idea to Dai that he should kill Don Fitzroy.

Court masked his frustration and pretended to think over the idea a moment. Finally, he shook his head. “I want Fitzroy alive. He’s still my meal ticket. He gets the best contracts around the globe. Plus, I don’t know you yet. You start killing men you are in business with, then I will know you. I’ll know you can’t be trusted. I will walk out the door here to go kill Jiang, and I will keep on walking.

“See your agreement with Fitzroy through. Show yourself to be a businessman, and this businessman will fulfill his contract. I kill Fan for you, and Fitzroy goes back to London.”

Dai waved a hand in the air. “Fine. Frankly, I like Sir Donald’s operation, in theory. If this situation is resolved, we will send him home safe and sound. Maybe he will work for us again someday. Maybe you will, too.”

Fat chance on both counts, asshole. Court did not say it; in fact, he nodded in agreement. Glad he’d defused the situation, Court asked, “You know where I should start looking for your defector?”

Another photograph appeared from the desk, this one of three men. Two were white, tough-looking guys in their forties: one had short hair and a beard; the other was clean-shaven with a bald head. The third man was black, with a beard and mustache. He might have been a little younger than the others, but no less tough.

Dai said, “This is Fitzroy’s second team. All from Great Britain, all former Special Air Service commandos. They called him three days ago from a bar in Po Toi. It is a small island south of central Hong Kong. They claimed to have tracked a group of Wo Shing Wo there, although they could not be certain Fan was with them. There were no other relevant details.” He shrugged. “The team never made contact with Fitzroy again.”

“You sent your men to this island to look for them, I assume?”

“Of course. No trace. Unfortunately, there are Triads operating on Po Toi, and they are able to identify police and security officers quite easily. But a gweilo like you should be able to appear nonthreatening.”

“What is a gweilo?”

“It means ‘ghost man.’ A white person. You should be able to get close enough to the Triads to find out where they are hiding Fan Jiang, because they won’t suspect you of being involved in the interests of the People’s Republic of China.” He handed the photo and a notebook to Court. “In the notebook you will see a list of known Wo Shing Wo properties. Bars, restaurants, houses of ill propriety. Many gweilo businessmen frequent such places. It will help you find your way around or into the organization. You will also find all Fitzroy’s notes about his communications with his men, before they disappeared. I had him write everything down to help us in our hunt.”

Court took the notebook and slipped it into his cargo pants. “Okay. I can start with this. Can your boys give me a ride back to my hotel? Preferably not facedown on the floorboard?”

“You will need a weapon.”

Court said, “Not yet. If I get eyes on the target, I’ll have you provide me with something.”

The PLA colonel cocked his head. “So… you just go out in the field with nothing but a phone?”

“I just need cash. I’ll buy the equipment I require off the shelf, but like I told you, I’m broke.”

“How much?”

“Twenty-five thousand U.S. For expenses.”

Dai didn’t seem happy about this, but he looked to one of his men and gave a quick nod. The man disappeared to get the money.

Dai then nodded to the men behind Court, and Court stood before he felt the hands on his shoulders that he knew would be coming.

Dai said, “Major Xi will take you wherever you want to go to begin your work. You do not have time to dawdle on your mission, and frankly, neither does Sir Donald. Keep me posted on your developments.”

Court said, “If you want me to provide you with intelligence along the way, you have to assure me I’ll still get paid and Fitzroy won’t be harmed if your men get to Fan Jiang first.” This was simply a ruse to establish his cover, and to stress that Court’s assistance only came as long as Fitzroy was alive.

“You have my word. I am interested in the end result. That is all. Fan Jiang must not leave Hong Kong. The clock is ticking, Court Gentry.”