There were three rooms, the first of which was an outer reception, with a secretary’s desk and a seating area with a couch and matching chairs. A pair of doors led to the offices themselves. The offices were identically furnished — standard desks, credenzas, and chairs. There was even generic artwork on the walls. Cabrillo ignored it all. He removed a pair of compact but surprisingly powerful binoculars from his fanny pack and glassed the rooftop terrace four blocks away and two hundred feet down.
His view was unrestricted. Like this building, the target rooftop was surrounded by a glass railing, only this one was at least eight feet tall, and he suspected it was bulletproof. Entry to the terrace was from an elevator located in a pavilion on the building’s southern corner. There was a long, shimmering pool surrounded by a teak deck. One end of the pool was piled high with rocks with water tumbling over them in an artful, natural display. Near it, and also set in rocks so it looked like a natural spring, was a hot tub with traces of steam rising off its surface. There were hundreds of plantings, and paths winding through the trees and shrubbery. The terrace looked like something Disney would create for one of their resorts, and Juan had to admit he was charmed by the effect.
Later, they would lug over their gear from the hotel. Juan’s cover was photojournalist, and he had lenses many times more powerful than the binoculars he carried. To enter China, Eddie and he had had to list a hotel where they were staying, but from now on this suite would be their home.
Hours later, they were eating Kentucky Fried Chicken in one of the offices, discussing what they had learned. Cabrillo had just finished his report and used a piece of extra crispy to prod Eddie into telling his tale. They would have liked to have Max and some of the others listen in, but cell signals were too easily intercepted, and if the encryption was too tough for the government to crack, the police would be on them in minutes.
“There are two guards in the lobby,” Eddie told him. “And unless you have a building-issued ID or an appointment, they won’t let you loiter. All deliveries to the building go in through a back door. The packages are signed for, and internal security makes the delivery to the proper office. I talked to a couple delivery boys. No exceptions.
“I got myself an appointment with an import/export firm on the twentieth floor. The elevators go up to the thirty-eighth and are unrestricted, but on each of them there’s a key slot to go up one more level.”
“But the top two floors have acoustical security,” Juan said.
Seng nodded. “Here’s the kicker. I physically counted the floors from the outside. The building has forty-one stories. The key-access-only floor is a buffer between the two-story penthouse and the rest of the tower. From thirty-nine, you switch elevators to go to the top.”
“Are the elevators in the center of the building?”
Eddie simply nodded.
“Then access to the penthouse is from the southern corner. At least there’s an elevator there that goes to the rooftop.”
“We need to find someone with one of those keys,” Seng said.
“Won’t do us any good. First off, I bet three of the key slots are dummies, and the access key works in just one elevator. And you can be sure security is going to be tight up there. Someone not authorized stepping off that car is going to raise the alarm. The elevator to the top two floors and the roof goes into lockdown, police are called or the guards handle the problem themselves.”
“Disguise?”
“Considering it,” Juan said. “But that means figuring out who exactly has the authority to go up to thirty-nine and then up to the penthouse levels.”
Eddie shook his head. “Only way to do that is to ride that elevator all day long.”
“And did it look to you like security is going to allow that?”
“No,” Eddie said miserably. “Stairwells?”
“Will be blocked off at thirty-eight. We could pick the lock, but there will be cameras watching it. And before you suggest killing the power to the building, we both know they’ll have battery backup and a generator.”
“We’re talking as though this place is impregnable?”
“So far, it appears to be. Even if we can get into that one elevator shaft, it still puts us one floor below Kenin’s.” This high level of security told Juan that he had indeed found the rogue admiral and he was the kind of man who planned his security thoroughly. “I bet the ventilation system stops at thirty-nine and the penthouse levels have their own heating and cooling.”
“What about the structural chases for water and sewerage pipes?” Eddie asked.
“Too tight, and I would have a motion sensor installed on thirty-nine.”
“Well, we know he won’t be leaving anytime soon.” Kenin would be undergoing cosmetic surgery to alter his appearance. The doctor would live and work inside the safe house. He might be allowed to leave on errands but would always be escorted. Kenin would rejoin society only when he was healed and looked nothing like his former self.
“Let’s just keep our eye on the place for a few days and see what presents itself.”
At dawn the following morning, they saw the first stirrings of activity on the roof. The building’s black glass walls remained as opaque as ever. A three-man security detail appeared on the open terrace. Juan watched them through a telephoto lens mounted on a tripod. One man remained by the elevator while the other two, guns drawn, checked every inch of the rooftop garden. They looked under bushes and around the waterfall. The pool lining was bright blue, so they could see it was clear. The hot tub lining, on the other hand, was dark, and one of the guards plunged its depth with a pool skimmer. They checked everything and missed nothing. And Juan could tell they kept in communication with one another at all times.
Solidly professional and deeply depressing. He had been thinking of somehow getting onto the roof and assaulting downward into the penthouse rather than coming up from below. These guys foiled that idea. As soon as contact was lost with one of the guards, the one by the elevator would go back to the penthouse and lock it down. By the time an attacking force breached the apartment, Kenin would be long gone.
He laid out that scenario to Eddie.
“So we flush him out and guard all exits, ready to snatch him off the streets,” Seng summed up.
Juan immediately saw the flaw… two flaws. Kenin could hole up in an office on a lower floor and wait out the attack. And, two, the police would be called as soon as the breach was discovered. Kenin had needed local help to establish his safe house, local help with serious pull.
The streets would be swarming with cops by the time he reached the ground floor. It would be impossible to follow him let alone stage a kidnapping.
For several hours, nothing happened. Eddie was studying the roof while Juan paced the outer office trying to come up with a plan. The same three-man security detail emerged again from the elevator and performed another scan, checking that nothing had changed on their isolated mesa of steel and glass. Eddie called in the Chairman so he could watch through his binoculars.
After the sweep, two of the guards went below while the guard posted at the elevator stayed where he was. Moments later, a woman wearing a plain white robe appeared. She looked Chinese and maybe a day past her eighteenth birthday. Apparently, Kenin liked them young but legal. When she reached the deck around the pool, she set down a wicker bag that she’d been carrying and shrugged out of her robe. Expecting a revealing bikini, Juan and Eddie were surprised she wore a sleek unitard swimsuit favored by Olympic swimmers.
She settled goggles over her eyes, dove in, and began swimming laps.
Cabrillo ignored her and watched the guard. He rarely glanced in her direction. Instead, he studied the surrounding buildings and the sky, looking for threats. Juan had to admit the guy was good. He never became fixated on any one spot, not even when a helicopter passed less than a half mile from the black tower. He watched it, yes, but it never became a distraction.