Golden Buddha

evacuation a ruse.”

Po raised his hand to be quiet as his telephone rang again.

“Po.”

“Sir,” the officer said, “we entered the apartment in the high-rise and found a woman named Iselda tied up in her closet.”

“Was she harmed?”

“Other than severe nicotine deprivation, no,” the officer said. “She’s smoked half a pack of cigarettes since we untied her.”

“Did she see her assailants?”

“She said it was like staring into a mirror,” the policeman relayed. “A woman disguised to look like her popped out of the closet and held a rag soaked with something to her mouth. That’s all she remembers.”

Po held his hand over the cell phone and spoke to Rhee. “They switched the party planner.”

Ho raised his hands in the air and began cursing.

“Carefully search the apartment for clues,” Po ordered. “Then have the kidnapped woman fill out a report at the station house.”

“Got it, boss,” the officer said as Po hung up.

Rhee’s mind was almost back to normal. He paced the living room as he spoke.

“This was a high-budget, carefully orchestrated operation,” he said. “So let’s take a minute and look at what happened from the start.”

“The insurance man was a plant,” Ho said. “They replaced my party coordinator and band with others, then put fake guests inside as well.”

“It appears they even provided their own security,” Rhee noted. “The alleged protectors were the thieves.”

Just then, the tow truck driver who had brought Po to the mansion walked into the living room.

“What do you need?” Po asked.

“Your tires have been changed,” the driver said, “but I found a hole inside the inner fender well.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think someone shot out your tire,” the tow truck man said. “There’s probably a slug somewhere inside the engine compartment.”

“We’ll look into it,” Po said. “If the car’s ready, you can take off. Just bill my department.”

The tow truck driver walked from the room.

“This is not some haphazard group of thieves,” Rhee noted. “They have snipers capable of long-range shooting, helicopter pilots and masters of disguise.”

“They sure as hell aren’t locals,” Po said quietly.

“Oh, that makes me feel so much better,” Ho said loudly. “At least I was robbed by professionals. How about you two work on recovering my Buddha first, then you can play all the mind games you want about their modus operandi.”

At this second, there were seventeen Macau police officers and two other detectives searching the grounds and mansion. In addition, a trio of teams had been dispatched to the airport and the two kidnapping sites. The entire force had been mobilized and Ho was complaining.

“We are doing everything in our power, Mr. Ho,” the detective said. “We’re going to catch them.”

Ho shook his head with disgust and walked out of the room.

THE parade came down the hill just as the fireworks barge in the inner harbor launched the first several rounds of the evening’s display. The Macau police had moved quickly and surrounded the edges of the route as soon as the pair of motorcyclists had been spotted. There was no chance of escape except a shoot-out. It was just a matter of time until the police captured the men. The man driving the motorcycle containing the Buddha steered down a side street, then honked his horn for the crowd to part. His partner followed close behind with the sound of sirens growing closer.

A tall float of a dragon was just ahead. At regular intervals, his mouth spewed fire.

ON the Oregon, Max Hanley stared at the screen, then moved the joystick a little to the left. The dragon moved to the center of the road. On another screen, a camera was showing a view from the side. Hanley caught sight of the motorcycles. Another screen displayed a GPS map of Macau, with pulsing dots that showed the location of the police cars. The net was closing in on the motorcyclists. He adjusted the movement of the float again, and then stared at the blueprints stolen from the Macau Public Works Department.

CLIFF Hornsby was tired and sweaty. Staring at his watch, he arose from the crate he was sitting on in the storm drain, then inflated a lift bag at the base of a metal ladder. Once that was in place, he climbed the rungs of the ladder. On the way up, he tested the wooden ramp to ensure it was solid. Finding it fine, he touched his hand to the bottom of the manhole cover he had already removed once, earlier in the night, to make sure that it was free.

Now he just had to wait for the signal.

Hanley stared at the control box. Gas jets for the fire from the dragon’s mouth, aluminum powder charges for the maelstrom, joystick for control. Just then, a voice came over the radio.

“They have blockaded the route at Avenida Infante D. Henrique,” Halpert said.

“Got it,” Hanley said. “You’re done, Michael, get out of there.”