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Avon Valley Private Airfield

2:40 am, local time

A Bombardier Learjet 45 XR taxis down a runway. Behind it, two men run, firing automatic weapons behind them, and yelling. A man hangs out of the jet’s hatch, yelling at the men, and motioning with his arm. The men chasing the jet stop firing back down the pitch-black runway, and run towards the jet. A streak of light, a fiery whoosh, and the jet explodes. A second, louder and more violent explosion from within the plane lifts it off the tarmac. A rippling series of explosions follow, and the what was once a plane is now scattered all over the runway, pieces burning and smoking. The men chasing the plane can no longer be seen. Two figures, far down the runway, shrouded in darkness, their features lit by the roaring flames, show their smiles, and a rocket launcher on one’s shoulder. Explosions still erupt from the burning debris. The man with the rocket launcher speaks.

Man: It’s time to go.

The other man lowers his M-16, and follows the man further back into the shadows.

Unknown, and unseen by the two men, one of the men who was chasing the plane, pulls himself with his one remaining arm, further back behind the safety of a pile of crates.

Perth Police Station

The police station is abuzz with activity. Officers are scurrying everywhere. Men in dark suits, and Interpol uniforms rush about as well. A man in a badly wrinkled suit walks past guards, flashing an AFP badge as he enters the third floor. The guards give him the once over, but the man doesn't even seem to notice them. He walks up to a man waiting for a printer to stop humming.

Man: ‘Morning Bruce.

Man#2: Morning Bruce. Glad you could make it. Had a bit of a busy night. They brought you in on this, eh?? Thought you was chucking a sickie!

Bruce: The Captain called me at home, and has been giving me the run-down. They still have that dobber up here, right? Some bloke ran me through the wash just to let me up here.

Bruce#2: He’s still here, him and his mate. Divy van brought them right here. The Pols been talking at him all night, and morning. They just got him cleared by the AFP. They gave the drum on those hoons down at the airport, and got the flick.

Bruce#1: Fair suck of the sav! They’re letting him go?!? Rack off!

Bruce#2: Now Detective, the Nationals got all they wanted out of him, and part of his deal was he goes free. We just finished printing up his testimony. He’ll be back of Bourke today.  Don't get all wobbly about it.

The man grabs sheets of paper off the printer and holds them up. Bruce #1 grabs them.

Detective Bruce: Let me have a Captain Cook at that.

Bruce#2 shrugs, and waits.

Bruce: You must be joking! He’s lying! That stands out as obvious as a Shag on a Rock! He knows something! Here, let me have a crack at him!

Bruce#2: Look Bruce, the blokes a Seppo to start with. He’s got lawyers.

Bruce: Rack Off! Let me talk to him and we’ll get the truth out of the bloke!

Bruce#2: I guess it can't hurt. You better know though, he’s quote a figjam.

Bruce grabs the printouts, the file, and starts to walk towards a back office. Sitting outside on a bench is a large Hispanic man, wearing a Daddy Yankee jersey. He’s also got several gold chains, a hand full of rings, a sideways baseball cap, with a blue bandana on underneath it. From earbuds, loud rap music in a foreign language can be heard. The man is tapping away on his cell phone, but he looks up to see Bruce approaching. The man flashes a hand sign, and nods his head.  Bruce doesn't even acknowledge him, opening the door to the office, as he scans the files quickly.

Bruce: G’Day! I’m Detective Bruce and you must be Herve…

Bruce finally gets a good look at the man he is about to intorgate. The man is very overweight. He’s also in a wheel chair, with a tube running up to his mouth. The man has a badly twisted posture. He jerks his head slightly, and the chair turns to follow Bruce.

Bruce: ..Villachez. Oh bugger me…

The man moves his hand, and a droning mechanical voice emerges from a speaker.

Melvin: HELLO…DETECTIVE…BRUCE…WHAT…CAN I…DO…FOR YOU?

Meanwhile…

Outside a gated suburban home on the edges of the city, a van sits. Inside the van two men watch highly sophisticated equipment. Equipment that apparently is receiving signals from state of the art surveillance equipment. Both men have headphones on.

A sleek black Mercedes roars up to the gate, and barely waits for the gates to open before rushing through. Two Asian men step out of the car, their hands going into their jackets as they scan the area. They motion and two more get out of the back and head to the trunk. Still scanning the area, the trunk pops and two men grab a bundle wrapped in a blanket and run into the house, followed by the last two, hands still in their jackets, alert and poised to react to danger. In the van, shouts are heard in an Asian language.

One man pops off a headphone and leans over to speak to his partner.

Man: Some one sounds a bit ropeable, eh Bruce?

Bruce: That sounds like Lao himself! He’s giving them a gobful about putting some one on his couch! Can we get a view of inside Bruce?

Australian Bruce: Reckon that Bruce!

A television monitor flashes on, and the inside of the house can be seen. Eight men are inside, two men in suits, holding automatic weapons flank a short Asian man in a bathrobe. The man in the bathrobe is yelling at the four men who just entered. He’s also pointing a fifth man. A man covered in blood, lying on a couch, bandages wrapped tight around his head, his lower left leg, and the stump of his missing arm.

Back In Perth Police Station

Detective Bruce: I’ve been going over your testimony Herve. And I have just one question for you. Do you really expect us to believe this?

Bruce throws down the papers on the desk and move over to sit on the front of the desk and crosses his arms.

Herve: I…TOLD…THE..OTHER…OFFICERS…ALL…I KNOW…DETECTIVE.

Bruce: Well I say it’s all Furphy! You was just happened to be in the airport at 3 in the morning? You and…Mr. Gomez? You think your bloods worth bottling for giving us this? Crikey! You’re think you’re fair dinkum? You think you're clever do you, and we Ozzie’s don't know Christmas from Bourke street, eh? Well let me tell you something, I know who you are, Mr. Herve Villachez. See, I ran your prints this morning, on the International wire, and got back some very interesting results. You’re no bloke traveling for your health. You had business here, didn't you Herve? And those blokes at the airport knew who you were too, didn't they?

Herve: I..DON’T..KNOW..

Bruce: Come on! Don't be pulling a raw prawn with me! You’re Herve Villachez! Arrested for bank fraud in Barbados! Suspected of money laundering for the Gulf Cartel! You see, Mr. Villachez, I work the Organized Crime bureau here in Perth. Now, you wanna stop being as useful as tits on a bull, and start giving me the truth?

Herve: THE…OTHER…OFFICERS…KNEW WHO..I WAS… AND WE…CUT…A..DEAL…SO-

Bruce: I don't give a fig what deal you cut with them, Herve! You haven't made a deal with me! I swear to you Herve, as God is my witness, you won't be able to go anywhere, do anything, in this country without my knowing about it! You so much as drop a crumb, and I’ll have you back in here for littering! Understand? Now talk!

Herve: OK…I…UNDERSTAND…PLEASE…JUST…LET…ME…GO…

Bruce: Spill it Herve!

Herve: HERE…IS…WHAT…REALLY…HAPPENED…

One Month Ago

The Central Bank Of the Bahamas

In a back room of the Central Bank, five gentlemen are seated around a large table. Two of the men are Asian, and two are Hispanic. All are wearing expensive suits. Four more men, two to each side of the room, are standing behind the seated figures. They wear suits as well, but the men are larger, and have a predatory air about them. The door to the room opens and Herve rolls in. The fifth seated man stands up and speaks. He is a fat man, and sweating slightly. He keeps mopping his head with a handkerchief.

Fat Man: Ah! Here he is, gentlemen, the best in the business! Now, let we can complete our arrangements! Mr. Sing, if you would be so kind as to inform Herve of what you require of him.

Mr. Sing lights a cigarette, and looks over at the man in the wheelchair.

Mr. Sing: Is this some kind of joke? You would insult me by making me speak to  this..cripple?

One of the Hispanic men leans forward, his voice tense.

Hispanic man: Mr. Sing, as the Fat Man said, Herve is the best. WE will not do business with your organization without him. Herve can make money dance and move like a fountain. The situation in your part of the world, is, shall we say, a bit tense? The Americans are looking into every transaction, looking for terrorists. On our side, the Americans have made it hard for us to do business with our usual clients. Competition is fierce. It would make us feel..more at ease…if Herve was the one handling the transactions.

Mr. Sing: We understand your concerns Mr. Santiago. The Americans are making life difficult for everyone. They have forced us to look outside our normals realms. But we have given our word on this matter. Surely, that is good enough?

Mr. Santiago: Of course! Your word is good! It’s just that we would like to make sure that everything goes smoothly! This is our first arrangement after all! Your organization has a reputation for practicality! As a sign of our good faith, we are sending our best man, to show our…dedication. We assure you, Herve will not fail you. We give you OUR word on that. Is that acceptable? You wouldn't mean to suggest that our word isn't any good, would you?

Mr. Sing: Of course not. But look at him! WE are in a dangerous profession! If, for some reason, something went wrong, what do you expect this…man…to do? Roll over their toes?

Mr. Santiago: We have thought of that. Herve will have protection, provided by us, with no burden to you or yours. Now, let’s get down to business. Fat Man, tell Herve what we expect of him.

The Present

Suburbs of Perth

A video monitor reveals the events going on in the upscale home. The Asian goons have mostly disbanded, and a different man has joined them. He tends to the injured man, while Lao stand to the side, smoking a cigarette and pacing. He stops to yell at the man tending to the injured visitor every once in a while.

Asian Bruce: Any ID on that injured bloke yet Bruce?

Aussie Bruce: Nada. Can’t get a good picture of his face with that bandage on it. I sent a wire to HQ, to let them know what’s going on. What is going on?

Asian Bruce: Lao is having his personal doctor try and revive the man. Seems he passed out. Lao wants to know what happened with the deal. I’d say he seems scared, if I didn't know that was Lao. All in all, I’d say Lao is being rather conch to the fella. One thing is for sure, that bloke isn't from around here.

The man on the couch starts to thrash about. The doctor tries to restrain the man, and Lao moves over and starts shouting in his native tongue. The man starts to yell in his native tongue.

Aussie Bruce: Hang on Bruce, Command wants to know what’s he saying?

Asian Bruce: I can't make out what the bloke on the couch is saying and Lao can't either! He’s asking if anyone speaks Spanish!

Aussie Bruce: What?

Asian Bruce: Come again Bruce? I can't hear you over the leafblower!

Perth Police Station

Detective Bruce: Is that it? That’s what you were so anxious to protect? I think you’re still playing Drongo with me.

Herve: IT’S.. THE… TRUTH… I…SWEAR!

Detective Bruce: Oh, it may be part of the truth, but I don't think it’s all the truth. Now stop lying and tell me the truth!

Herve: IT… WAS… THE …TRIADS! THEY… DOUBLE… CROSSED… US! I …SWEAR –

Detective Bruce: You think you’re so smart! You don't even see that Santiago was setting you up! He was going to sacrifice you! It’s all right here!

Bruce throws down a think manila envelope.

Bruce: Santiago moved the money from the account you set up for him! Not only that, he sold the Triads account number to Interpol and got some of his men released! All this was done before you even touched down in Perth! The Triads were going to kill you! But you know what I think? I think you made the deal with the Triads and the Gulf Cartel. Then I think you sold them out to some one else! Who’s the third player Herve? ? I think it was a triple cross. I saw the tattoos on your friend out there. He’s not part of the Gulf Cartel is he? You want to know what I think. He’s a member of MS-13, I reckon. Oh yes, Herve, I know all about Latin American Cartels. I’m a specialist in that area. You sold them out and were hoping they would blame each other while you walked, sorry about that, rolled away clean! You were hoping to get lucky, but your luck ran out didn't it? The airport was a clusterfuck of major proportions! We have thirteen dead men and an International Incident on our hands! No one is walking away from this one clean! You may think you are, but the Triads and the Guild Cartel is going to be looking for you Herve!

Herve: (tears streaming down his face) PLEASE….HELP ME…I HAVE TO LEAVE…

Bruce: I can help you Herve, but you better think about what you really want to tell me. I’ll be back in a second.

Bruce leaves the room. He moves through the main office, past Mr. Gomez and enters a room. Inside, a group of officers are watching Herve through a two-way mirror. Microphones in the room pick up Herve’s sobbing.

Man: Bang up job Bruce! I thought the bloody same thing about this mess! He’ll crack for sure.

Bruce: Thank you Bruce. It all makes sense when you can see the pieces, eh?

A man pops his head into the room.

Man: Excuse me folks! We just got a call from one of our observation posts. Something is going on over at Lau’s place!

Lau’s Place.

Lau: You speak Spanish?

Man with Leafblower on his back: Si! Si! I speak Spannish!

Lau: Ask that man what happened at the airport.

The Gardner speaks in Spanish to the injured man on the couch. The Injured man has quieted down, probably due to the needle the Doctor is putting back in his bag. The injured man responds.

Gardner: He say he has to get away. The Devil is chasing him.

Lau: The Devil?

Gardner: Si! El Diablo! He also say, they touched down, and started to make the deal, to keel the Devil, but then, El Diablo came, and he didn't want to die, so he keeled everyone. Very sad. He say it was a trap. That El Diablo knew they were coming for him, and that El Diablo was angry! Very angry! He keel everyone! Except heem! Now, El Diablo is coming after heem! S’okay?

Lau is silent. Then he explodes in a furry of Asian swearwords. The man in the truck listening to the conversation winces. The man on the couch, through the video screens grows more agitated. He starts to repeat a phrase over and over. Lau pulls out a gun and shoots the man in the head. He then shoots the Gardner, and the doctor, and then fires his gun straight up until the clip is empty. He then yells out two words. Swat teams swarm the house at that point, but Lau keeps screaming the words over and over again.

Aussie Bruce: We got him red handed Bruce! But what was he yelling about.

Asian Bruce: He was cursing some one, but I don't recognize the name. But it sounded like:

Perth Police Station

Detective Bruce storms back into the room and confronts Herve.

Bruce: Who is Kaiser Esse?

Herve lurches at the name, and his eyes bug out. His fingers taps his keyboard.

Herve: FUCK…FUCK…FUCK….FUCK…FUCK…FUCK…

Bruce: You better say more than that, mate!

Herve: SORRY…THE KEY…GOT..STUCK…

Lau’s House

Lau is being led from his house in handcuffs, still screaming at the top of his lungs. Swarms of police cover the grounds. In the van, Asian Bruce cracks open a tinny of Swam and takes a long drink. He pauses, and then looks at his partner and starts to speak.

Asian Bruce: You know Lau is a member of the Triads don't you? Yeah, well he wasn’t always based here. When I was working undercover, a couple of them and I got drunk one night and started talking. Lau once worked in Russia. He was an up and comer, and from what we can tell, he was expected to just maintain the business, but he got greedy. He went toe to toe with the Russian mob, and was actually winning. But then he tried to expand into Japan. Things get murky at that point, but around ten years ago, he crossed a powerful Yakuza boss, and fucked up so bad, they yanked him back to Singapore, until he showed up here three years ago. But the story is, Yakuza boss wasn’t Japanese, but some gaijin, who was taking over the underworld around that time. This gaijin Yakuza was so upset, he went after not just Lau, but after the whole Triad. He drove them out of Japan, and went on, attacking their businesses wherever they were. Taiwan, China, Malaysia, Vietnam, India, Korea, America, Russian, everywhere. He cost the Triad billions. And when they went to kill him, he couldn't be found. This…ghost chopped off their limbs and sent back the torso of the assassins and their parts to their bosses. He sent back their parts in the bellies of dogs.

Aussie Bruce: You mean stuffed inside dog carcasses?

Asian Bruce: No, I mean he fed their parts to dogs, and then sent the dogs to the Triads. Alive. But that’s not all. He went after not just their assassins. But the men who gave them their orders as well. Then the men who gave those men their orders. And he kept moving up the chain, until finally the Triad leaders begged a truce with him. He finally agreed. And then he vanished.  The blokes didn't know much about this guy, but they heard rumors. They heard that…

Perth Police Station

Herve: THAT HE CAME FROM COLUMBIA FIFTEEN. THAT HE WORKED FOR A CARTEL THERE, BUT THEY COULDN'T CONTROL HIM. THAT HE WAS TOO VIOLENT, EVEN FOR THEM. SO THEY TRIED TO KILL HIM. BUT HE SURVIVED. AND VOWED REVENGE. HE WENT TO JAPAN AND FORMED HIS OWN YAkUZA, OVER THE BODIES OF HIS ENEMIES. THEY SAY HE NEVER OPERATES OUT IN THE OPEN, BUT FROM WITHIN THE CRIME FAMILIES. THAT THEY DON'T EVEN KNOW THEY’RE WORKING FOR HIM. UNTIL THEY TRY TO FIND HIM, AND THEN HE STRIKES WITH SUCH TERRIBLE FURY, THAT THE FAMILIES WISH THEY NEVER EVEN EXISTED. SOME SAY HE IS JUST A MYTH, SOMETHING TO SCARE GANGSTERS, “DO YOU JOB, OR KAISER ESSE WILL GET YOU!”. BUT I KNOW WHAT I SAW DETECTIVE. I WENT INTO THAT WAREHOUSE WHERE EIGHT MS-13 COMANDOS, THE BEST I COULD GET WERE BREATHING, AND WHEN I WENT BACK, THEY WERE ALL DEAD, AND THE PLANE WAS IN RUINS. NO, KASIER ESSE IS REAL. I BELIEVE IN HIM, AND I BELIEVE HE WILL BE COMING TO GET ME. NOW, AM I FREE TO GO?

Detective Bruce: We could protect you Herve! Just tell his story to Interpol and he’ll never get you, London to a Brick!

Herve: YOU..CAN’T PROTECT ME…AND…I KNOW…I CAN'T RUN…FOREVER…BUT…I’D…RATHER DIE…FREE…THAN IN A CAGE. I’VE SPENT TOO MUCH TIME IN THIS ONE ALREADY.

With that, Herve pushes a lever, and moves towards the door. Bruce is stunned, and then gets up and opens the door.

Herve: MR. GOMEZ…

Mr. Gomez gets up off the bench and pushes past two police men, and moves over to Herve. He walks behind him, until they reach the elevators. He pushes the button, and then helps Herve in. Bruce watches them go, his face expressionless. More officers come over and stand next to him, alternating between watching Herve and Bruce. The elevator doors close, and Bruce uncrosses his arms and speaks to his audience.

Detective Bruce: RIGHT! You heard him! I was right! MS-13 is involved! Now, I want all the intel you can gather on those lurks AND NOT A WORD ABOUT THIS BUNYIP KAISER ESSE! You got me?!? Let’s get to work people!

Man: But Bruce! What about that bloke?

Bruce: BUGGER HIM! IF he turns up stiff as a board in the morning, then we’ll let the beat cops handle it. We got what we wanted from him.

Outside Perth Police Station

Herve rolls down the street, and around a corner, with Mr. Gomez strutting behind him. They go for a couple of blocks and then enter a store. A man following some distance behind them, watches them speak with the cashier, and then watches them head to the back of the store. A sign above the doorway says “restrooms”. The man waits a couple of seconds, and then darts down an alleyway that leads behind the stores. There he sees a strange sight. A Range Rover is parked and Herve is walking, Not only walking but talking normally.

Herve: I think that went rather well. Madison, be a dear and help me get this off will you? No, Mr. Wang, hold onto that iPod. No evidence. We take everything with us.

The man steps forward and lights up a cigarette.

Man: (In Japanese) Still the same old Wevv.

Wevv freezes, the outer shell of the Herve costume still wrapped around his arms. Mr. Wang has also frozen. Madison has her hands full with the other part of the costume. Finally Wevv reaches up and starts to pull the latex off his face. His eyes are no longer watery blue and dazed looking, but now sharp and clear.

Wevv: (In Japanese) Ichi? Ichi Michinoku? Is that you? My, it’s been what, ten years? Eleven? I never expected to run into you here.

Wevv finally has his costume mostly off, and reaches out and grabs a rag from the open door of the Range Rover. He starts to wipe his face and move towards Ichi. Madison shadows him, a knife appearing in her hand. Ichi sees the knife, but turns his head and looks over at Mr. Wang.

Ichi: Kenzo? Kenzo Wang? Is that you? Last time I saw you, we were crawling through the sewers of Beijing. Hello Wevv, it’s been a long time.

Madison starts to step forward, but Wevv puts an arm around her shoulders and draws her close to him.

Wevv: Now, now, my dear. Ichi is an old friend. You're still an old friend, aren’t you Ichi?

Ichi: If I wasn’t, you never would have made it out of PPS. What brings you here? Last I heard, you were in Cuba.

Wevv: Business. It’s always business. You're not here….about….that thing with…you know, are you?

Ichi: Them? Hell no! No, after you left, I got reassigned here. I was told that since I was so friendly with gaijin, that I should live with them. So, I was sent to Australia. I got a nice promotion though. Lieutenant! No, I just wanted to catch up on old times with an old friend! And maybe hear why he’s back in the Pacific Rim, giving old men heart attacks and nightmares from the past, eh?

Wevv: Old times, yes….It would be good to catch up on old times, with an old friend. Come, Madison, Mr. Wang, let’s leave here. Our work is done. Care for a ride Ichi?



Ichi: I would be delighted. I know this great sushi place that also makes a great tankatsu and the katsu kare is just like we used to get at that place outside of Kenta’s. You remember?



Wevv: I do! I never knew how you could eat after a work out like that. I was too tired to even speak, let alone eat.



Ichi: HAH! It was about the only time you were quiet! I could just sit back and enjoy my food without listening to you talk and talk, and talk! You ever notice that about him, Madison was it?



Wevv: yes. Madison is her name. She’s Cuban. And I think I could go for some good old-fashioned Japanese cooking. Just like old times, eh Mr. Wang? Just like old times…

The End.

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