Weecho: First Shots

Chapter 36 - The Prize

The meeting at Alexey’s office had gotten right down to the nitty, since everyone there basically knew everyone else. They were sitting around the conference table that had that view of the city and the park, a city they all agreed would always be Target One for some group or other. Weecho was wearing a business suit that Alexey had picked for him, Alexey saying it gave him stature, adding that it probably wouldn’t hurt his love life either. Weecho had his hair back to reasonable condition, had tied his tie just so, and, shoulder healing nicely, was sitting here looking sharp. 

That key to the bus terminal locker really had been buried at the bottom of Nina’s fish tank, just like Juna had said it would be. When Weecho pulled out the sack full of cash from the terminal locker, not knowing what to do with it, he’d taken it up to Alexey’s town house. That’s where Juna was recovering from her wound, Jeremy in attendance. Alexey used a couple of shadow companies to transfer those bricks of hundred-dollar bills into private accounts for his two young operatives, no trace.  Almost half a million dollars. 

Weecho had also given Alexey the real Gatchel DVD, which had been in the sack along with the money – and which Alexey didn’t waste any time putting to use.  

“In the absence of the enterprising Mr. Lynch,” Alexey said to the men at the table, “it would seem there’s a gap to fill. A chance to put someone on the inside to track the opium and arms swaps, and to track who the network is running in here.” 

Across the wide table, Commissioner Burke agreed. “In essence a double-agent, because we’ll also be feeding out misinformation.” 

Alexey nodded. “Someone who knows the New York end.” He turned to the slicked-back little Asian man seated to his right. “Someone who Mr. Yoon, who has offered his services, can connect with the network.” 

Mr. Ming Jay Yoon, arms oligarch now turned ally, bowed his head. Alexey indicated the laptop sitting in the center of the table, the laptop Weecho had wiped the last of Nina Galleon’s blood off. The screen flickered with data that was steadily being updated in real time. 

“Commissioner Burke’s tech people hacked into the network,” Alexey said, “so we’ll have a direct channel from here on.” 

Burke had a little something to add. “They’ve also transferred funds from Mr. Yoon’s accounts to Cover Magazine’s holding company. A significant investment, I’m pleased to say, which we’ll draw on for operations.” 

The Prize. 

Alexey had told Weecho, for his ears only, that the “investment” was mid-nine figures. With more where that came from. 

Yoon’s expression said it all for Weecho – the little man had had no choice. Not if he wanted to keep his yacht and enough spending money to run it in the fashion his reputation demanded. Not if he didn’t want to feed the fish with Emer Soul Patch Lynch.       

Alexey, gentleman that he was, kept any gloating to himself. Looked over at a familiar face sitting next to Burke. “There’s a rumor, Senator Gatchel, that you’re up for a State Department post. A very senior post, I was pleased to hear. I’m sure you can appreciate what a handy resource our unit here would be.” 

And what a disaster that DVD we’re sitting on would be. 

“I can,” Gatchel said. 

“The NYPD counter-terrorism people are obviously on board.” 

“And Tel Aviv?” Gatchel said. 

“Tel Aviv is most definitely on board. Is that a problem?” 

Gatchel of course remembering that Alexey knew of his ties with Bigsby – Bigsby of anti-Israel persuasion.   

“No,” Gatchel said. “No problem.” 

The Senator looked over at Weecho. “When you say double-agent – are we talking about Mr. Marti?” He was trying to look respectful, Weecho thought, not like the peckerhead he was at the beach.    

Alexey said, “Mr. Marti has other talents we’ll be using in the field. As we’ve seen, his camera can take him anywhere.” 

“Who then?” Gatchel said. “I mean, it’s obviously your show here, but it would help us to know who we might be involved with.”  

Alexey glanced at Burke who turned to Weecho. “This is probably a good time.” 

Weecho nodded and got up, trying to look like he and the Comish had talks like this every day. Went over to the office’s twin hardwood doors and stepped outside. 

In the reception room, a pretty young woman leaning on crutches was laughing at something the craggy-faced man she was standing with said. 

“Guys?” Weecho called. 

Juna, looking trim and together in a tailored business suit, turned with a smile from Teddy Shongut, who likewise was suited-up for the occasion. He took her crutches and offered his arm, and together they came over. Juna, limping a little, wearing just the right touch of makeup, had traded her swamp-girl look.      

Weecho motioned her and Shongut through the tall doors, followed them into the office and closed the doors behind him.