The three men, Lock, Ty and Li Yeng, stood side by side on the apron and watched as the cabin-crew member, a young woman who looked like she’d stepped straight from the cover of Chinese Vogue, closed the aircraft door. Lock could glimpse Emily Yan at the window, staring mournfully out of the window, her life of freedom cut short.
The Gulfstream’s engines shifted up a notch from low roar to sharp whine. It began to taxi, making a slow, sweeping turn as it headed toward the runway.
“Not a bad way to travel,” said Ty.
Lock agreed. But the kind of money Chow Yan had was a double-edged sword that he had seen before. With wealth came the constant fear of losing it or being targeted by those who wanted some of it for themselves.
That was why the smart wealthy either kept their lifestyle simple, like Warren Buffett, living in the same house for forty years in Omaha and eating at McDonald’s. Or, if they enjoyed a more lavish lifestyle, they lived it behind closed doors, and kept social media to the accounts set up to promote their charitable foundations.
Charlie and Emily had learned the lesson the hard way. Shove your wealth into people’s faces and expect some blowback.
Lock didn’t doubt for a moment that places like Arcadia would be the scene of more crimes like this. He and Ty had already fielded dozens of calls from wealthy Chinese and Chinese-Americans from up and down the west coast who were seeking their expertise on how to make themselves, their families and their property safer.
The Gulfstream took its place in the line of aircraft awaiting clearance to take off.
“You’re not heading home?” Lock asked Li Yeng.
He shot Lock a diplomatic smile. “Mr. Yan still has investments he wants me to oversee here in Los Angeles.”
“Can’t kidnap an office building,” said Ty.
“One of the many advantages of real estate,” said Li. “Speaking of which, Mr. Yan has asked if you’d like to oversee security for his properties here.” He dug into the inside pocket of his perfectly tailored Hugo Boss suit, took out a piece of paper and handed it to Lock.
Lock unfolded the paper and read what was written. Ty snuck behind him and took the paper out of his hand.
“Are those zeros after the decimal point?” Ty asked Li.
“No, that’s the figure,” said Li.
It was an eye-watering sum. Too eye-watering.
“A security review?” said Lock, taking the paper back from Ty.
Chow Yan had already proved very generous, giving them both a substantial bonus for securing the safe return of his daughter and nephew.
“And, perhaps, some work to ensure that certain people are dis-incentivized from harming his family in the future,” Li Yeng added, his expensive American education beginning to show through.
“You mean he wants payback, and he wants us to deliver it?” said Lock, cutting to the heart of the matter.
It wasn’t a question that would be answered with “Yes.” Li wasn’t stupid, far from it.
“Consider it,” he said.
Lock handed the piece of paper back to him. “I don’t know if it’s worthy of a fortune cookie, but you ever hear the saying ‘Let sleeping dogs lie’?”
“Of course,” said Li.
Ty leaned in to Lock and whispered, “You ever hear the saying ‘That’s a twenty-five percent down payment on a condo’?”
Lock shook him off.
“We did what we had to do when we had to do it,” he told Li. “Poking at an organization like MS-13 is rarely a good idea.”
Li nodded. “Excellent advice.”
“Make sure and pass it on to your boss,” said Lock. “Come on, Tyrone, we have a housewarming to get to.”