The Greatest of These Greg Wendleton (best free ereader .txt) 📖

to retreat to the lanai and take a much-deserved rest. We completed the clean-up detail before the sun dove into the ocean splashing a vibrant orange and red display on the canvas that had been this day.

The Crowleys had returned to their home and the Wilhites had retired for the night, when Special Agent Presley’s phone rang and he excused himself to answer it. Special Agent Mueller, who was questioning Bobby Wang, was providing an update on his progress. Attorney Lester Chun had been assigned as his public defender and had recently arrived demanding he stop asking his client questions. It was going to drag on for hours, but he would call again with an update.

Special Agent Mears took the first four-hour shift starting at midnight. Special Agent Presley laid down on the bed and set an alarm for four in the morning. He had slept soundly and when the alarm woke him, he sat up and shook his head to clear the cobwebs. He stood and stretched his body to loosen up his muscles which had begun to ache more and more from age and his life’s work. He slipped on his shoes and then went into the bathroom, that was located off the main hallway.

A few minutes later he walked out and down the hall, entering the living room. He found Special Agent Mears sitting at the kitchen dining table monitoring his laptop. The home’s security cameras were feeding an ap they had installed on the laptop.

“Nothing stirring Jerry. I did a perimiter walk and search fifteen minutes ago and the monitors are quiet.”

“Thanks Joe, I’ll take over now. Go sack out in the bedroom. I’ll wake you when breakfast is ready.”

“You got it. Have a quiet shift.”

The shift was quiet. Two perimeter searches revealed only a full moon and a lone mongoose roaming along the back of the property. It would take some time for the sun to reach over the 10,023-foot Haleakala crater and its surrounding mountains, but from the front of the house, you could begin to see the breaking of a new day. Jerry looked at his watch. It was 6:35am, Sunday, February 28. At that moment his phone buzzed in his pocket.

“Special Agent Presley.”

“Hey Jerry, it’s Mueller. We caught a few breaks. The Asian in the van is a dude going by the name of Jackie Ming, using a Canadian passport. He’s flown to Dallas. Landed there less than four hours ago. A BOLO has been posted in Texas, Oklahoma, Arkansas and Louisiana. Our local emergency room nurse, Bobby Wang, claims he has had contact with the man, off and on over the last three years through an encrypted email account. Went by the handle, The Red Assassin. He flew here Thursday, starting out in Taipei on Taiwan. We’ll find the bastard.”

“Thanks for the information James. Keep me updated throughout the day.”

“You got it. Later.”

Presley reentered the kitchen through the carport and started the coffee pot. This had the makings of an eventful day. It was time to wake his partner and fill him in on what Mueller had shared.

With all of the occupants of the house now stirring, the kitchen quickly became ground zero. Coffee mugs were filled and a fresh pot was prepared. Eggs, toast and leftover pork and sweet potatoes were thrown into a skillet and heated with some olive oil. Another feast was going to be spread out before the men by Jamie. She was an amazing cook. How did Chad stay slender with all of this great food being prepared? He was a lucky guy.

No solid updates came from Special Agent Mueller during the day. An interesting piece of information did come their way though. Around noon, Central Standard Time, outside of Fort Worth, a man was found slumped over, dead, at a picnic table located within an interstate rest area. He didn’t have any identification on him. His neck appeared to have been broken and the police were working to identify him.

Sunday evening rolled around and Special Agent Mears stayed at the house while Special Agent Presley returned to his home in Kahului to get a solid eight hours sleep and some clean clothes. It would be a quiet night, with no new information from Texas. Bobby Wang, was not released. Instead, he spent Sunday night in the Maui County jail, in a private cell, under close watch.

When Monday dawned in San Antonio, Jackie Ming, walked to the office for a cup of coffee and a donut that had been delivered fresh from a local bakery. The caffeine and sugar worked together to create a buzz and tingle within Jackie. He hustled back to his room and removed his laptop and began working.

Again, to his surprise, the motel offered free WiFi service, but Jackie instead chose to use the hot spot created by his phone. He opened his secure email and saw a message from one of his agents, Aiguo Pinyin, a merchant sailor, working aboard the PacAsian Star. They had docked in Honolulu, early Friday morning and off-loaded seven, forty-foot, frozen cargo containers. He was confident it was the COVID vaccine that had been headed for the Port of Laem Chabang.

“Shit!”, he shouted as he banged his fist on the small round table in his room. The United Bamboo Gang leadership would be very upset by this turn of events. They would demand two things; their fifty-million back from Conrad and repentance from The Red Assassin for getting them into this mess. He was not going to grovel for his life before any man, especially that little toad, Mr. Hsu.

Jackie began to formulate a plan, that would involve Conrad. Searching his recent emails, he found the last one from Conrad and opened it. He hastily typed a message and sent it. The message made it clear that they had to meet as soon as possible:

We have a big problem. Your shipment has been diverted to Honolulu. You owe the UBG $50M and they will want it