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

While Special Agent Mears was gone, and the sun had dipped fully into the ocean, we stepped back inside. Jamie, being a perfect hostess, started searching the cabinets for plates, napkins, glasses and silverware. By the time the Special Agent returned all the drapes had been pulled shut, the doors deadbolts double checked and the table set for five.

The five of us sat around the glass topped, oval table in the less comfortable wicker, dining chairs, and quickly wolfed down the Pepperoni and Cheese, as well as the Supreme pizzas. Full and contented, I leaned back to ease the pressure on my waist band. It really didn’t help as I had overeaten and was bloated from the delicious crust and the carbonation of the Coke.

Unceremoniously, I belched like a frat boy and declared, “My compliments to the chef!”

We all laughed out loud and it felt good.

After a few more minutes of reverie, Special Agent Mears looked at his watch, then declared, “If you’ve got this Jerry, I’m going to excuse myself and head home. I should be able to get home before the kids go to bed and before Maui midnight strikes.” He wished the rest of us good night and walked out the kitchen door and then drove away.

Little did he, or any of us know, across the street and up in the hills, the house was being watched through a high-powered, nightvision-equipped pair of binoculars.

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

On a cloudy night, the near full moon was partially obscured, helping to mask the PacAsian Star as she entered the Port of Honolulu at 11:52pm on Thursday, February 25. The specially selected dock workers were prepared to hoist each of the seven uniquely fitted, refrigerated containers out of the ship’s hold and onto the awaiting flatbed, eighteen wheeled, diesel trucks. The trucks would enter the cargo shipping area of the space shared by Joint Base Pearl Harbor-Hickam and the Honolulu International Airport. One more opportunity to mask the activity taking place from potential prying eyes.

The off-loading process was quick and without hitches. No sooner had the PacAsian Star tied up to the pier, and she was ready to be pushed back out to sea by the awaiting tug boats. Many of the merchant sailors slept through the brief process, but not Aiguo Pinyin, a man loyal to the United Bamboo Gang. He witnessed the activity from the deck of the PacAsian Star, and while they were still in the Port of Honolulu, sent a message to his control in Taiwan. The vaccine was not going to be delivered to the Port of Laem Chabang as planned.

Having done his job aboard this ship, he looked for a way to jump ship, but there were no gangways laid and he wasn’t going to jump in the harbor or shimmy down the ropes. He was stuck on board, working, for the next thirty days. At least he would be paid by the shipping line for his effort and he could slip into Thailand and enjoy the pleasures of the port before he reconnected with his control.

The seven cargo containers were secured into the cargo hold of the C-130 parked inside a massive hangar on the Hickam Air Force Base sector of the airport complex. By three am on Friday, February 26, the engines were spun up and the aircraft was towed out of the hangar onto an active tarmac. All systems were double checked and the pilot, Major Dan Avery and his co-pilot, Captain Robert Jones were cleared by the Hickam air traffic control tower. They taxied to the farthest end of the runway and eased onto an active strip. They set their parking brakes and revved the engines to achieve maximum RPM’s. The parking brakes were released and the giant cargo aircraft began rolling down the runway, gaining the necessary speed to attain lift off. With runway to spare they pulled back the controls and began to elevate from the asphalt, gradually reaching full take off. Ten minutes later, after banking to a direction of due west, they cleared ten thousand feet. The vaccine was on its way and would be reaching Korat Royal Thai Air Base in approximately thirteen hours.

At the same time, on Maui, the house in Kihei was dark and quiet. The alarm system was activated and three of the four occupants were soundly sleeping. For the first time since Sunday night, Chad and Jamie Wilhite had climbed into the same bed. They slept soundly in a snug, spooning position. All was well in their world.

In the darkness of the early morning, the lurking figure, who had been hidden in the brush of the hillside, made his way down the slope toward his borrowed van. He drove to a nearby beach and parked the vehicle in the vacant lot, near the restrooms. He double checked that the doors were locked and slipped into the back of the van and unrolled the sleeping bag that had been provided. Feeling confident that the tinted windows would afford him some privacy he slid into the sleeping bag to catch a few hours of much needed sleep. It had been a very long day.

Inside the house, the fourth occupant, restless and uneasy, sat in the kitchen in front of his computer monitoring the security cameras that Scott Crowley had told him about were active around the house. No one was going to sneak up on him, not tonight.

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

Bojing “Bobby” Wang worked as a nurse in the Emergency Room of the Maui Health hospital and had been on duty when Chad and Jamie Wilhite had been brought into the hospital on Wednesday afternoon. He diligently performed his role, as he always did, and then relinquished care, as per Doctor Talbot’s instructions, to the ICU nursing team. There was something about this couple and the special attention they were being afforded by the fire department and the FBI. His control at the United Bamboo Gang would