The Greatest of These by Greg Wendleton (have you read this book .txt) 📗

the structure. Seeing nothing out of place he stepped fully inside and shined his beam into the one room that was furnished with a full-size bed and two wooden, kitchen chairs. Sparse. Must have been inhabited by a minimalist.

He went back out the only door and walked the exterior of the shack. The only thing he found was another very small structure in the back of the property. He opened the door and quickly closed it. He didn’t need to take a second look to know it was an outhouse. Smith had no intention of stepping into that shithole!

He strode back around the front and proclaimed it all clear. Jones and Johnson opened their respective doors and after sliding out of their seats, walked around to the back end of their SUV. The tailgate opened and they both peered inside.

The driver, Jones, said “They’re still out cold. How much of that shit did you two pump into them?”

“I don’t know. We filled the hypos and emptied them so they’d be out fast.”

“Well, I sure as hell hope you didn’t kill them before we get the info we need.”

Smith walked up behind them and said, “Would you assholes shut the fuck up and just carry them inside? There’s a bed in there, throw them on the bed and secure their hands and feet.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Who died and made you the boss?” asked Jones.

Johnson grumbled, “Just shut up and grab the dude. I’ve got the lady.”

With the Wilhites secured and laid out on the filthy mattress, the three stooges waited for Chad and Jamie to come around. It wasn’t too much longer before Chad began to stir. Hoping to move the process along, Smith splashed water from the bottle he was drinking from into his face and slapped him a few times for good measure.

“Wake up old man! Wake up, we have a question for you” yelled Smith, thinking that would speed up Chad’s revival. He splashed more water into Chad’s face and that seemed to be the antidote.

“What the hell...” whispered Chad as his mind began to focus on the situation.

“That’s exactly where you are old man! Listen to me, I have one question to ask you. Answer me straight and we will leave you unharmed. Which ship is the vaccine on?”

“What? What are you talking about?”

They didn’t accept that as a straight answer and Smith delivered a punch to Chad’s gut. Chad let out a mournful sound and rolled onto his left side, seeing Jamie still out cold.

“What have you done to my wife? Jamie, Jamie, can you hear me?”

There was no response from Jamie, but Smith said, “Don’t worry about her. She’s okay, and will stay that way if you answer my question. Now, which ship, what code word, did you use for the vaccine shipment?”

Jamie began to stir next to Chad and he held his breath as she slowly opened her eyes. He wiggled as best he could in his restraints and kissed her lips and whispered, “I’m so sorry that this has happened. I don’t understand what’s going on. I love you.”

“What’s it going to be old man? Are you going to tell me the code word, or do I let Johnson have his way with your wife and make you watch?”

Chad didn’t hesitate, “And the greatest of these is Love. Love is the code word.” He immediately broke down and began sobbing with Jamie within his reach, but unable to hold her.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Conrad’s secure email account pinged, indicating he had received a new email. It was from Smith:

It’s the Love Boat! He says code word is LOVE. Further instructions?

Yes! He had the information he needed and was ready to finalize the deal with his contact and the UBG. He quickly banged out the message for The Red Assassin:

Cargo left Port of LA on Monday 2 22 @ 11pm. PacAsian Star. Due Port of Laem Chabang 3 29.

Will provide container info after confirm transfer of $50M USD to usual account.

The Red Assassin must have been sitting at his computer because the reply came back to Conrad within minutes:

Cheap ass UN. 5 weeks to arrive! Money sent to your account. Send container data. Good doing business again.

Conrad pulled up his financial data on his computer and verified that fifty million dollars had been added to his account. The balance was now over eighty million. It was time to move some money around. His first key strokes were to transfer the most recent deposit to a newly established account in Panama. That move left him exactly $32, 463, 899.47 in his account in the Cayman Islands.

His next action was to forward the data on the seven full containers to The Red Assassin and his UBG bosses. What they were going to do with the vaccine when they intercepted it upon arrival in Thailand wasn’t his concern. He had his big payday and could now make his preparations to disappear, with or without Smith, Jones and Johnson. He didn’t really care one way or the other.

Before making his grand exfil plans, he needed to set up Chad Wilhite as a traitor to his country and to the world. However Garret Cooper got sucked into the scheme was again, none of his concern.

The first step was going to be costly, but he fully expected it to be reversable. Conrad had a hacker who had infiltrated Chad Wilhite’s business account at Wilhite Logistical Consulting. He typed the keystrokes he had been provided in order to gain access to the account. Surprisingly, the dupe had received a five-million-dollar deposit that same morning from the United Nations Humanitarian Aid Fund for his role in arranging the shipment via the slow boat to Thailand. Agonizing over the final few keystrokes, Conrad finally clicked the CONFIRM button on his computer screen and just like that transferred twenty-five-million dollars from his Cayman account to Wilhite Logistical Consulting’s account at a local bank in San Antonio.

Chad Wilhite would now, hopefully, appear to have