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

don’t like sudden moves. I’ve learned over the years not to trust anyone I’ve just met.”

Jackie nodded in understanding. He had learned the same lesson. “I have a photo that I took Friday morning on Maui outside of a safe house. I would like to know if you recognize the man.”

Jackie took the three steps that had separated him from the passenger’s side of the Blazer, and laid the phone in the middle of the hood. Conrad reached across the hood and retrieved the phone and took a quick glance at the photo. “Son of a bitch…”

“So, you know this man?”

“Yes, it is Garret Cooper. He has worked for me for the past fifteen years and I sent him to Maui to kill Wilhite and take the fall for all this.”

“It appears he has double crossed you.”

“Yeah, I misjudged his allegiance to my cause and the lure of money. My other three men are money hungry mercenaries, not Cooper. He is a married man, with another career.”

“It seems we have a bigger problem.”

“Bigger than betrayal? What would that be?”

“The COVID vaccine has been redirected. It is no longer on the PacAsian Star in route to the Port of Laem Chabang.”

“What the hell are you rambling about now?”

“I have an agent working on that ship. He sent me a message that the ship docked in Honolulu early Friday morning and off-loaded, seven freezer containers. The vaccine is no longer on that ship. My employer is very unhappy and wants his fifty-million-dollars back, immediately.”

Conrad stood in stunned silence for what seemed forever. It had been only a few seconds, but his shoulders had slumped in a defeated posture. Then, defiantly, he said, “I’m not returning that money. It’s my retirement.”

“Well,” said Jackie, “it appears we have two options if you are not going to give the money back. One, I can kill you and take the money back. Or, we can split the money and go on the run.”

Shocked, Conrad stared into the Asian man’s dark eyes, looking for clues as to his motivation. Not able to gain any indication, he said, “Well, Jackie, I think I could retire on twenty-five million, how about you?”

Jackie nodded several times and then a grin began to appear on his elongated face, spreading from ear to ear.

CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

With a deal made between the two men, Conrad and Jackie, loaded what few items were in the motel room and left the Silver Spur Motel. As Conrad pulled the old Chevy Blazer onto the four-lane road, heading into a residential area of San Antonio, a police cruiser was approaching the Silver Spur Motel from the opposite direction.

The cruiser parked under the old aluminum portico in front of the motel office. It didn’t appear much had changed since this traveler’s waystation had been built in the 1950’s, until the two officers stepped inside. The interior looked to have been updated in the last few years and they felt their chances of getting lucky here were fleeting.

An elderly man greeted them at the counter, asking, “How can I help you officers this afternoon?”

“Hello sir, we are looking for a man we suspect might be in the area.” Withdrawing the black and white, eight by ten photo of the man known as Jackie Ming, the officer laid it on the counter and asked, “Has a man resembling the person in this photo checked into your hotel, yesterday or today?”

The old man picked up the photo and studied carefully. Of course, he recognized the man in the photo, but he also was thinking about the hundred-dollar bill he had given him to look the other way. He began shaking his head, then said, “Can’t say that I recognize him”, as he slid the photo back to the officer. He paused before letting loose of the photo and asked, “Whatcha lookin’ for him for?”

The other, younger officer, blurted out the response, “Suspected of murder.” His partner glared at him as if to reprimand him for sharing too much information.

The old man pulled the photo back toward him and took a second, longer, more intense stare at the man in the photo. “You know, that might be the man in room twelve. Said his name was Jackie Franklin.”

“Is he here now?”

“Can’t say for sure. He was dropped off by a taxi, so no car to keep track of.”

“Thank you, old-timer. Excuse me for a moment. Tom, you remain here with our friend while I call this in.”

The senior officer stepped outside and removed his shoulder mounted microphone and called in the possible location of Jackie Ming, aka, Jackie Franklin, The Red Assassin. Within minutes police cruisers began to pull into the parking lot and develop a perimeter around the far end of the motel, targeting room twelve. They maintained surveillance on the room and waited for the San Antonio SWAT team members to arrive and take control.

There had been no visible signs of movement in or around the room since they had established their position an hour ago. With the SWAT commander in charge, and his team ready, they approached room twelve from the near and far sides of the lone access point. Two men were also stationed along the back of the building where a single window was mounted about six feet above ground level. They doubted anyone could escape through the awning style window, but they had plenty of manpower and saw no reason to leave it to chance.

With explosive force and quickness, one man breached the door with a battering ram while three men filed into the room, each searching a specific area of the room. The first man through, seeing no one in the main room advanced toward the bathroom. The door was closed and he cautiously approached.

“San Antonio Police, come out of the bathroom with your hands in clear view!” shouted the lead man. There was no response and no sound from within the closed bathroom. Again, the battering ram blasted the door open,