Free Tracks by Niv Kaplan Page B

convinced.  The
interview with Harley was finally attained
    By the time she reached the
building where Harley lectured, a good half hour before her scheduled meeting,
the sun was low over the Potomac.  The group dispersed shortly thereafter,
and she entered to face the man who did not exist.  He towered over her as
he walked up to greet her, an impressive middle-aged figure with short cropped
graying hair and piercing gray eyes, his posture radiating power and
confidence.
    “Joe Harley,” he said with
characteristic British modulation, offering his hand. “A
pleasure.”
    “Mai-Li. The
pleasure is all mine, Colonel,” Mai-Li said, clutching his hand, her small palm
disappearing inside his huge hand.  “Appreciate you taking the time.”
    “Well Ms. Li, we don’t have
much of it so I suggest we get to the point,” he said, inviting her to a seat
facing his lecture podium, grabbing a chair for himself in the
process.        
    He sat staring while she took
her paperwork out of her bag.
    “I represent the Center for
Missing Children,” she began. “It’s a non-profit organization based in New York
City.  We work around the globe trying to assist parents in getting their
missing children back.”
    She paused, looking for a
reaction, but received none.
    “There are six of us,
operating for several years now.  Our success has been quite limited but we’re
making progress.”
    “Who’s funding you?” Harley
suddenly asked.
    “Various
philanthropists and private organizations.   Mainly people who have suffered through similar experiences.”
    “Go on,” he commanded.
    “We more or less divide the
world among us and I have the Far East.”
    “Makes sense,” he said,
remaining serious.
    “Pursuing a case early last
year, a six-year-old Indian girl kidnapped to Pakistan, I made an astonishing
discovery.” 
    His steel gray eyes were
piercing her now.
    “Following the case through
Kashmir, I accidentally discovered a ring that sells children for hard labor.”
    She paused for effect again
then continued.
    “The Indian girl I was after
was not subject to it. She was kidnapped by a jealous husband, for spite, but a
contact in Kashmir assumed I was after Lambda B, the ring, and revealed to me
its business.”
    “Colonel, there are hundreds
of children over there under atrocious conditions, being sold like slaves to
the highest bidder.  They are being held in cages with little food and
barely enough water to keep them alive.”
    Her tormented voice
reverberated around the lecture hall’s acoustics.
    “We need to put an end to
those horrors,” she pleaded softly.  “And you’re the only one who can do
it.”
    He looked at her as if
transfixed, and then woke out of his reverie.
    “I’ll help you,” he said, as
her eyes shot up to meet his serious gaze.  “Under three
conditions.”  
    She nodded eagerly.
    “First I’ll need verification
to this story.  I’ll need hard evidence before I set a plan in
motion.  My unit is quite expensive to move and I cannot afford to move
under false pretenses.”
    Mai-Li handed him three black
and white photos she had managed to smuggle out of Kashmir.  Two showed
children’s faces peering out of bamboo cages.  The third showed a tattoo
on a man’s arm showing the Greek symbol Lambda with an English B.
    “That’s how they got their
name,” she explained as he scanned the photo.  “This man was responsible
for locking the cage hatch once a child was pulled out.”
    “My second condition,” he
continued, “is funding.  I’ll need you to guarantee the required funds
since this will not be an activity funded by my government.”
    “What type of funds are we
talking about?” she asked hesitantly.
    “That depends on the job Ms.
Li,” Harley said and she hurriedly nodded.
    “The third condition is a
formal request by one of your appropriate government officials to my superiors
requesting my services.  The activity does not have to be