Then the hood was slammed, plunging them into complete darkness.
“First time I’ve ever embraced a woman in a boot,” Tristan said. His right arm was draped around Marissa’s body.
“Can’t you be serious for once?” Marissa said.
“Kind of like a couple of kippered herrings in a tin,” Tristan said. They heard the car engine start, then they lurched forward as the limo proceeded down the narrow alley.
“The expression is ‘sardines in a can,”
” Marissa said.
“Not where I grew up,” Tristan said.
“Tris, I’m scared,” Marissa said, fighting tears.
“What if we suffocate in here? I’ve always been terrified of tight places.”
“Close your eyes,” Tristan suggested.
“That will help a bit.
Just breathe normally. Smothering’s not our worry. It’s where they’re taking us.”
To help mitigate Marissa’s claustrophobia, Tristan chatted on about anything he could think of.
After innumerable turns, starts, and stops, the car came to a final halt and the engine cut off. Marissa and Tristan could hear the car doors open and close. A few seconds later, the trunk was unlocked and the hood was raised.
The same three men were staring down at them.
“Out of the car, please,” the man with the gun said.
A bedraggled Marissa climbed from the trunk, followed by Tristan. They were inside a huge warehouse piled high with seagoing containers.
“Move,” the man with the gun said. He pointed to a space between two containers.
Tristan put his arm around Marissa. With shared terror, they walked together in the direction indicated, worrying what was about to happen. Beyond the containers was a closed door. They stopped, waiting for further instructions. One of their abductors opened the door and motioned them inside.
Entering through the door, Marissa and Tristan found themselves in a long hallway. Following unspoken commands, they walked to the end of the corridor before being stopped before a blank door. One of the men knocked. From within someone replied in Chinese, and the door was opened.
Marissa and Tristan were pushed inside.
The room looked like an office, complete with a desk, file cabinets, office equipment, bulletin boards, and huge calendars with photographs of oceangoing vessels. At the desk was a Chian somewhat older than the three who had abducted nese m Marissa and Tristan. He was immaculately dressed in a white silk suit with gold cuff links and tie tack His coal-black hair was brushed back from his forehead and held in place with lacquer like hair spray. Another Chinese man in a gray business suit stood at his side.
As Marissa and Tristan were nudged before the desk, the man in the white suit leaned back, putting his hands behind his head.
He studied Marissa and Tristan from head to toe. Then he rocked forward, propping his elbows on a large ledger open on his desk.
The man spoke in rapid Chinese. Immediately several of the men in the blue suits stepped forward and searched Marissa and their wallets and watches and put them on Tristan. They removed the desk. Then they stepped back.
As if he had all the time in the world, the man in the white suit fit a cigarette. He clamped it between his teeth like a cigar.
Cocking his head to the side to keep the smoke from his eyes, he picked up the wallets and went through them, looking at pictures and credit cards. What money was there he removed and put on the desk. Then he looked up at Marissa and Tristan.
“We are curious as to why you have been asking about the Wing Sin,” he said in perfect English with an English public school accent.
“Triads are against the law in Hong Kong. It is dangerous to talk about them.”
“We are doctors,” Marissa said before Tristan could respond.
“All we are interested in is information. We are trying to investigate a disease.”
“A disease?” the man asked with disbelief.
“Tuberculosis,” Marissa said.
“We’re trying to follow the trail of a certain type of infection of tuberculosis that has been showing up in the United States, Europe, and Australia.”
The man in the white suit laughed.
“What is this?” he questioned.
“Triads are now being looked to for medical knowledge?