A Death in China - Carl Hiaasen [132]
“What!”
“Shut up, Jerry. There are some conditions, though.”
Medici consulted a notebook. “First, we get our friends’ merchandise back. Then we go lookin’ for yours. It will take some time.”
“I know.”
“There’s something else.” Medici read slowly from the notebook. “You must promise not to undertake, organize or direct any incursion into the People’s Republic of China, or attempt in any way to enter the People’s Republic under your own or any assumed identity, for any purpose.”
“Tony, who is this guy?” Flanagan whined. “What’s going on?”
“Anything else?” Stratton asked.
Medici mumbled. Stratton barely caught the words.
“They said to say please.”
Flanagan coughed.
Stratton said, “Tell them I agree.”
He handed the agents two sheets of paper. The name of Sgt. Gil Beckley was written on the first.
“Who’s this?” Flanagan said, frowning.
“A cop in West Virginia. Be nice to him. A piece of your merchandise is locked up in his property room. He’s also got a list that you’ll find very interesting.”
Broom’s roster of stolen warriors and their buyers. It had been found in the trunk of the car with the last Chinese soldier, exactly as Wang Bin had planned. Stratton had phoned Gil Beckley to make sure; the next day, Stratton had written his letter to Washington.
“What kind of list?” Flanagan demanded.
“The best kind. Short and simple. It’ll help you find what you’re looking for.” Not just the imperial artifacts, Stratton thought, but Linda Greer, too. She deserved much more than a pauper’s grave.
The second paper Stratton handed to the agents was as good as a map. Medici studied it briefly.
“Okay, brother, you got it. We’ll be in touch.”
Stratton walked them to the door. Flanagan left, shaking his head. Medici paused.
“I was in Nam,” he said. “Fourth Division Lurps. We heard stories … well, I’m proud to know you.”
Stratton said good-bye. He walked back to his desk and opened the middle drawer. The envelope was stained, dog-eared. It carried a Hong Kong stamp.
He did not open it. He did not need to. He knew what was inside. Six words that spelled two lifetimes.
“Thom-as, I cannot live without you.”
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
copyright © 1984 by Carl Hiaasen and Bill Montalbano
cover design by Karen Horton
ISBN: 978-1-4532-1071-0
This edition published in 2010 by Open Road Integrated Media
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