Tommy was shaken from his brief nap by A-fai who informed him they had arrived. It was a little after 2 a.m. They had driven out into Hong Kong’s New Territories to a fenced-off lot near the Lok Ma Chau border crossing. The husks of old cars and old shipping containers were strewn haphazardly across the property. The BMW’s headlights illuminated a ten by twenty-foot shipping container with the initials “OCZ” emblazoned on the sides. Holding a flashlight, A-fai opened the doors and peered inside. It was empty.
“This will work,” he determined.
“Grab our bags from the trunk. Then drag him over here,” Tommy ordered, referring to Brig and pointing at a spot inside the vessel. With his right hand he shook out a cigarette from a pack directly into his mouth, rummaged in his pocket for his lighter, found it, lit his cigarette, and considered how extraordinarily difficult things were with only one hand. Fortunately, the painkillers had kicked in and the pain in his left hand was almost forgotten. He walked into the container, took a deep drag from his cigarette, and placed his back against the wall. He slid to a sitting position and exhaled the cigarette smoke as his body dropped.
Tommy listened as the trunk of the car opened. He could hear the muffled voices of his comrades, the trunk slamming shut, and the struggle to get Brig out of the car. A few minutes later A-Fai and Glitch appeared at the container’s entrance dragging a semi-conscious Brig and laid him down gently on the cold metal floor.
The evening chill was setting in, and Tommy was not looking forward to the next few uncomfortable hours as he and Brig were forced to wait for the Lok Ma Chau border crossing to open. Tommy planned to get there early to beat the crowd, but it would depend on how soon Tommy could get Brig moving.
Once the fire was going, Tommy took a final look around before releasing his subordinates. Brig was snoring next to their three bags. Tommy went through a mental checklist to make sure he had everything; Hong Kong I.D., Chinese passport, one-hundred fifty thousand Chinese renminbi, two bottles of painkillers (the one he’d taken from Brig and the bottle his doctor had prescribed for him), a bottle of antibiotics, and some clothes. Tommy had also checked to make sure Brig’s documents were in order. He hoped to be done with Brig in the next few days. His idea was to lie low in Shenzhen and then maybe take the train north to Guangzhou to make Brig think they were moving towards Tibet. All the while he wait for his father to pay the ransom. He certainly wasn’t traveling to Tibet. “Alright. I think you’re done. If everything goes as planned, we will be rich men by this time next week. Stay out of Chang’s way. He will be pissed when he finds out I’ve run. Call me if anything comes up.” Glitch and A-fai nodded, wished Tommy good luck, handed him the flashlight, and drove off.
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