was in store for them wherever they were going. His eyes grew heavy and he slumped in his seat, leaned his head back and began to think about himself and where he had gone wrong with his life.
He knew that despite his dissolute lifestyle, he still could present himself, when sober and prepared that is, as a very knowledgeable gentleman, a connoisseur of the arts. And, he had the education to back it up. He had a black belt, or close to it, in some ancient form of marshal art, he couldn’t remember which one at the moment, and it had been a long time since he needed to use that, except to once in a while roll some other drunk to get more drink money.
He knew because of his background, the Triad had chosen him in the past for stealing shipments containing art objects, jewels, paintings and historical artifacts. He could quickly tell if the items were genuine or not. He knew his usefulness to the Triad relied only upon his expertise, not in the phony flattery White Paper Fan laid on him, or his shaky martial arts. He knew that Fan just needed to stroke his own ego and belittle him in the process, but he also knew that Fan was vicious and willful enough to kill him, even outside the Triad’s territorial oversight. He knew his key to escape this chaotic, messy life was money, and lots of it. If somehow he could make a big score he might find his way to some Pacific island where he could drink and screw native girls all he liked. There he would be free of the Triad grasp. At least he knew it when he was sober. But booze always seemed to get in the way, and he knew that, too. Knowing all this didn’t make anything better. Sue Lai Mee, his only real love was still dead, had been for five months now and his heart had died with her, and nothing really seemed to matter after that.
His few friends wondered why he was still alive in the Triad especially since he had botched his last four jobs because of his drinking. Now no one would seriously consider him for a job of any sort any more they thought. But the occasional job for the Triad provided the only means of an income since he didn’t have a wife or relatives to care for him. He knew there were Triad members who watched him constantly because he wanted out and they knew if he ever got a chance to make some good money and run, he would. Maybe this trip to Europe and this emerald might be his chance.
Tam was jarred from his reverie by the loud announcement of his flight. As he got up he threw his paper coffee cup in a trash bin and noticed he had spilled some on his pants. He waited in the boarding line, wiped his pants with a handkerchief and noticed a man smiling at his attempt. On the plane, his small bag stowed in the overhead bin, he waited nervously for this adventure to begin. Reclined his seat in the Lufthansa coach section after the seatbelt sign flashed off, he opened the heavy manila envelope White Paper Fan had given him and began to re-read the instructions he had already read several times before he caught his flight. After reading them again, he started to formulate a plan in his mind for escape, but in a few minutes, the roar and vibration of the giant air ship lulled him into a fitful sleep.
CHAPTER 6
Geneva
H ans stood for a moment, put on a pair of Fendi glasses, adjusted the handkerchief in the pocket of his charcoal, pinstripe Gucci suit, and made sure his tie was tight and straight before he opened the ornately carved door, and entered Christie’s Geneva branch of the international auction house. As his eyes became accustomed to the filtered gloom, he saw all of the clutter in the room, which surprised him. The shelves lining the walls were filled to overflowing with books and catalogues of every size and shape. Object d’art and paintings leaned against every available table and filled the few wall spaces between the bookshelves. Hans noticed the ancient Oriental carpet showed a definite wear path from the front door to a door at the rear of the
He knew that despite his dissolute lifestyle, he still could present himself, when sober and prepared that is, as a very knowledgeable gentleman, a connoisseur of the arts. And, he had the education to back it up. He had a black belt, or close to it, in some ancient form of marshal art, he couldn’t remember which one at the moment, and it had been a long time since he needed to use that, except to once in a while roll some other drunk to get more drink money.
He knew because of his background, the Triad had chosen him in the past for stealing shipments containing art objects, jewels, paintings and historical artifacts. He could quickly tell if the items were genuine or not. He knew his usefulness to the Triad relied only upon his expertise, not in the phony flattery White Paper Fan laid on him, or his shaky martial arts. He knew that Fan just needed to stroke his own ego and belittle him in the process, but he also knew that Fan was vicious and willful enough to kill him, even outside the Triad’s territorial oversight. He knew his key to escape this chaotic, messy life was money, and lots of it. If somehow he could make a big score he might find his way to some Pacific island where he could drink and screw native girls all he liked. There he would be free of the Triad grasp. At least he knew it when he was sober. But booze always seemed to get in the way, and he knew that, too. Knowing all this didn’t make anything better. Sue Lai Mee, his only real love was still dead, had been for five months now and his heart had died with her, and nothing really seemed to matter after that.
His few friends wondered why he was still alive in the Triad especially since he had botched his last four jobs because of his drinking. Now no one would seriously consider him for a job of any sort any more they thought. But the occasional job for the Triad provided the only means of an income since he didn’t have a wife or relatives to care for him. He knew there were Triad members who watched him constantly because he wanted out and they knew if he ever got a chance to make some good money and run, he would. Maybe this trip to Europe and this emerald might be his chance.
Tam was jarred from his reverie by the loud announcement of his flight. As he got up he threw his paper coffee cup in a trash bin and noticed he had spilled some on his pants. He waited in the boarding line, wiped his pants with a handkerchief and noticed a man smiling at his attempt. On the plane, his small bag stowed in the overhead bin, he waited nervously for this adventure to begin. Reclined his seat in the Lufthansa coach section after the seatbelt sign flashed off, he opened the heavy manila envelope White Paper Fan had given him and began to re-read the instructions he had already read several times before he caught his flight. After reading them again, he started to formulate a plan in his mind for escape, but in a few minutes, the roar and vibration of the giant air ship lulled him into a fitful sleep.
CHAPTER 6
Geneva
H ans stood for a moment, put on a pair of Fendi glasses, adjusted the handkerchief in the pocket of his charcoal, pinstripe Gucci suit, and made sure his tie was tight and straight before he opened the ornately carved door, and entered Christie’s Geneva branch of the international auction house. As his eyes became accustomed to the filtered gloom, he saw all of the clutter in the room, which surprised him. The shelves lining the walls were filled to overflowing with books and catalogues of every size and shape. Object d’art and paintings leaned against every available table and filled the few wall spaces between the bookshelves. Hans noticed the ancient Oriental carpet showed a definite wear path from the front door to a door at the rear of the
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