Smoke and Shadow (22 page)

“
Don
’
t give
me riddles, Warren. Give me answers.
”

Baker gave him a
question instead.
“
Did you know I grew up in Darien,
Connecticut?
”

“
I know you were
a spoiled brat who went to private school, drove around in a
Mercedes and generally lived like an over privileged douchebag.
What does any of that have to do with my fucking
question?
”

“
How do you
think my family got its money? How do you think we paid for our
entitlement?
”

“
I have no idea.
Did your grandfather invent the douchebag?
”

“
No. My family
was in the shipping business. We were one of the largest and most
influential private fleets in England since the sixteenth
century.
”

“
That
’
s nice.
But so the fuck what?
”

“
And what do you
think we shipped back and forth during America
’
s early days?
”

“
How the fuck am
I supposed to know? Coffee? Wood? Who gives a
fuck?
”

“
I
’
m sure the
slaves gave a fuck.
”

Chu
couldn
’
t form a
response in words, but the look on his face must have revealed his
confusion.

“
My family
helped start the Ivory Trading Group. We captured slaves in Western
Africa, traded them for wood and shit in the Caribbean, and America
and then sold the raw materials in England and Spain for a
profit.
”

Chu sat down in a
chair opposite Baker
’
s desk. His knees felt unstable beneath him.
“
Your family bought and
sold slaves?
”

Baker
’
s
shrug had none of the relaxed nonchalance of his normal
movements.
“
A lot
of families were in the slave trade. My family just happened to be
particularly good at it.
”

“
When did you
find out?
”

“
After I joined
the CIA I did an extensive background check to make sure I
didn
’
t have any
incidents in my past someone could use against me. I found out
about the Ivory Trading Group in the British
archives.
”

“
Does the rest
of your family know?
”

“
I took the
records to my father. He didn
’
t deny the
connection.
”

“
What did he
say?
”

Warren Baker
looked away from Chu. His eyes seemed to stare at a painful past
event.
“
It is
difficult to get a man to understand something when his fortune
depends on his not understanding it.
”

“
So what did you
decide to do?
”

“
I decided to do something about
it. I stopped talking about it. I put my head down and focused on
being a case officer. I collected information and assets to find,
fix, and neutralize modern slave trading operations as I found
them.

Chu
couldn
’
t find
anything to do with his hands and he couldn
’
t look Baker in the face.
“
Fine, but the Ivory
Group was around three hundred years ago. It
’
s fucked up, but you
can
’
t hold
yourself responsible for stuff that ended after the Civil
War.
”

“
What makes you
think the Ivory Group folded after the Civil
War?
”

“
Slavery was
outlawed and
…”

“
Slavery was
officially abolished in America in 1865, but it
didn
’
t end. It
flourished in the West during the building of the railroads. It
continued in Africa and India during the Imperialist period in
Europe. It was a staple in Asia long before Marco Polo got to China
and became the origins of the
shetou
. Based on who you listen
to, slavery is bigger now than it was before the Civil
War.
”

Chu saw the
pieces falling together.
“
And the Ivory Group is still a part
of it?
”

Baker shook his
head.
“
The Ivory
Group doesn
’
t
exist anymore as an official corporation. It
’
s broken up into regional
organizations.
”

“
Like the Fuk
Ching in New York
…”

“
Like the Fuk
Ching. You remember the Golden Venture?
”

“
You mean the
ship all those people died on?
”

“
Yeah, the one
that lead to the arrest of Sister Ping. That ship was registered to
a Macau subsidiary once owned by the Ivory
Group.
”

“
So the Fuk
Ching took over where the Ivory Group left off, and you want to
take them out to get back at your family for
…”

Baker held up his
hand to correct Chu.
“
I want to stop the cycle of brutality my family started.
Revenge isn
’
t
doing anything to help anyone. This op is about economics. If we
can make the cost of doing business high enough, a lot of these
regional groups will close up shop and move onto other
things.
”

Chu took a moment
to soak it all in. The revelation swirled around him like a
tornado. He looked back up at Baker and saw his friend staring off
into the middle distance with his head in his hand. How did it feel
for him to know his wealth and prosperity came from the suffering
of a dozen generations? What kind of isolation did he feel when his
family rejected the truth? What would Chu do in
Baker
’
s shoes?
Would he have the determination and independence to try and change
things on his own? Would he be able to hide the secret from
everyone and project Warren
’
s image of relaxed confidence? Chu
didn
’
t think he
could do what Baker did. But he knew what he could
do.

He gathered up
his gear and headed for the door.
“
We
’
ll be ready when the op goes live.
No worries.
”

Baker nodded back
to him and Chu thought he saw a smile, but the far away pain in
Baker
’
s eyes
overpowered his attempts to reduce the stress between
them.

Chu found purity
in movement. He didn
’
t have to struggle with the motivations of his handlers or
the morality of his mission. He didn
’
t have to think about rich kids
living in Connecticut or their ties to colonial slave traders. He
didn
’
t have to
wonder why. Once his mission started, his world boiled down to who,
what, where and when. He only had to worry about three things,
insertion, execution and extraction.

The tiny, environmentally friendly,
electric bike he rode felt flimsy and comical as he puttered down
through the streets of Chinatown, but it served as an important
part of his disguise. No one would question one more Asian man
riding an electric bike and wearing the orange safety vest of a
Chinese food delivery worker. Hundreds of similar men buzzed all
through Manhattan on any given night.

The bike and his
vest gave him perfect cover to weave through the operational area
and ensure he wasn
’
t being followed. Where a casual observer would see yet
another late night delivery, Chu had a chance to compare the
environment to previous nights, scan for possible opposition and
confirm his second and third escape routes. The restaurant
emblazoned on the back of the vest didn
’
t exist, and his covered delivery
basket held tactical gear instead of fried rice, but the little
bike ensured Chu
’
s
cover as he turned into the alley near the Red
Crane.

Chu shut off the
bike and listened for signs of danger. The steady pounding of music
pulsed from the opposite wall and the roar of an accelerating bus
echoed in the distance, but he didn
’
t hear any reaction to his presence
to make him uneasy. In the corner of the alley, near a rusting
dumpster Chu saw three beer bottles. The ones on the left and the
right sat in a straight line. The bottle in the middle had been
smashed into shards. Recognizing Trent
’
s signal, Chu reached into his bike
bag and pulled out his gear. He stripped off his neon safety vest,
so only his drab nondescript jacket remained. He replaced his
safety helmet with a black watch cap and pulled it low over his
forehead. After taking one last glance towards the alley behind
him, he hoisted the pack onto his back, climbed onto the dumpster
and up the tenement fire escape.

Trent sat perched
in the darkness. His outline was only visible because Chu knew
where to look. As he hoisted himself onto the roof, he could make
out the barrel of Trent
’
s gun aimed in his direction. Chu held up the hand signal
designating himself as a friendly. He didn
’
t make any sudden movements until
Trent responded with the appropriate signal. Only then did he
approach and get close enough to whisper.

“
We
’
re
clear
”
Trent said
in a hiss Chu struggled to hear
“
but there
’
s an after party on the rooftop next
door. We need to wait to give ourselves a clear
jump.
”

Chu nodded,
checking his weapon and pulling the bandana over his face to match
Trent
’
s movements.
Then they waited. It was more than an hour before the music died
down, and a half an hour more before the laughter faded. Chu
wondered how many of the late night party crowd paid for their
pleasure with money made from slavery. How many of them knew where
the money came from? How many of them would care? Chu let his mind
chew on the implications of such embedded corruption until the
lights on the rooftop went out and a deeper darkness enveloped
their space.

Without a word or
wasted motion, the two operators hustled towards the edge of the
building and launched themselves off the roof. , Chu tried not to
remember all the errors he made with the practice jumps. He
concentrated on bending his knees in the air, pointing his toes
where he wanted to land and making impact with the ball of his
feet. He focused on a quiet landing, distributing his weight across
his body with an even roll designed to bring him back to his feet.
The feeling of weightlessness didn
’
t last long enough for his conscious
mind to run through all the steps. The weight of his tactical belt
and weapons hampered his movements, but Chu touched down on the
roof of the Red Crane with little noise and room to
spare.

Trent landed
beside him with the sound of a delicate breeze. He had his weapon
up and ready when he came out of his roll, but Chu
didn
’
t waste time
with envy or amazement at his friend
’
s skill. He drew his own gun,
stacked up on the door and prepared to enter the
building.

With one hand
aiming the muzzle of his weapon down and away, Chu reached for his
belt and unspooled the fiber optic cable wrapped around his waist.
He didn
’
t look
across the rooftop or back the way he came. He trusted Trent to
watch his back and could feel his partner move his head and
shoulders to scan the area around them. Chu concentrated on
slipping the thin pinhole lens underneath the door and glancing at
the small monitor attached to the inside of his
wrist.