ALTHOUGH THE PORTS of Hong Kong and Singapore were perennial favourites, Alexei Karpov liked Long Beach because it was so clean and direct. Dedicated to container shipping with virtually no fishing industry and few marinas, Long Beach presented a relatively fresh face to the casual visitor.
Additionally, most of the necessary government offices and many shipping companies were within a two or three mile radius, easy hiking distance for a sixty-year-old man who had walked his whole life.
At 301 East Ocean, the retired colonel stood at the Customs desk on the eighth floor, patiently waiting while the inspector, an attractive woman in her mid-twenties, dealt with the couple in front of him. Karpov gave her his broadest smile as he stepped forward with his passport and a sheaf of shipping documents.
"Good afternoon, Inspector. . . Rodriguez," he said, reading her name tag. "I hope I said that correctly."
She rewarded him with a smile of her own. "Better than a lot of people here. What can I do for you-" she quickly scanned his passport "- Mr. Petrova?"
"I have taken a temporary job in Las Vegas. It will last about a year and I have brought some personal items with me." He slid the documents across to her.
She leafed quickly through the Russian passport, noted his temporary work visa and checked over the shipping documents. "Can you wait a few minutes, Mr. Petrova? I have to look up the manifests on the computer."
"Certainly."
She headed for a nearby desk with the passport and documents.
Karpov smiled inwardly. His passport in the name of Niklaus Petrova had indeed been issued by the Soviet government to allow him to travel anonymously while he was still in the army. It was one of several things he had kept when he retired.
Ten minutes later Inspector Rodriguez returned. "Everything seems to be in order, Mr. Petrova. I see Tiger Shipping is acting as your broker?" She tapped her fingers on the documents.
"That is correct."
"And you've indicated you're bringing in a single crate with household items worth less than two thousand dollars?"
Karpov laughed out loud. "It wouldn't be worth that without the laptop. A favourite desk and chair, a computer. A few books."
"Is that some kind of Russian computer, sir?"
"Toshiba." He was still grinning.
She returned his smile. "Yeah, I love mine." She pulled a handful of stamps from a drawer and began stamping the various documents. "Okay, tell Tiger to ship your belongings to Las Vegas under a Customs seal. It'll get there faster and the local Customs office can clear your belongings." She swept the stamps back into the drawer and picked up his documents and passport. "Welcome to America, Mr. Petrova."
"The land of opportunity, Inspector."
YOU ARE READING
Not-So-Secret
RomanceLike father . . . like son. The empty crib, the warning note - Kelly Declaremount-black recognised the signs that her secret life had been discovered. To save her son, she became the willing captive of a man arrogantly convinced that her baby was hi...
