The Container
The flashing lights from the police cars made the cold, clinging fog seem a carnival scene around the large, blue container. Police guarded a yellow tape area, keeping people out. Gordie sighed deeply, put on his rubber gloves and walked toward the container. The smells of the sea and docks pervaded everything with the odors of rot, fish, and salt water. The morning sun tried to penetrate the fog, but seemed weak in the cold morning air.
Gordie stopped outside the container and nodded to Juana Espinoza as she swung her long back hair over her shoulder as she stood up. Juana was a handsome Hispanic woman with aristocratic features. Tall for a woman at five feet eleven inches, her dark eyes glittered with humor. Her blue SFPD windbreaker covered her body, but it wasn't hard to see she was fit and strong.
"Gordie this container is a shit show. We got heroine. The Port authority popped it on a tip from an anonymous source." Juana said. Gordie grimaced and squatted down to look through the box in front of Juana. Coffee grounds and rotted fruit were laid over the brown, plastic wrapped heroin cakes. In the middle of all that was a squat, heavy, glistening white crystalline cat. The eyes were carved jade set in a stern feline face. Gordie picked it up carefully, looking it over. The cat seemed to glow softly from within, then faded. Gordie wrapped it in plastic wrap loose from the drugs and eased it back into the box. With a sigh he stood up, looking over Juana's shoulder to other members of the task force opening more boxes.
Mark England was a middle aged white guy, brown beard and mustache, light brown eyes, and muscled build. Mark worked for the Port Authority first, but was also a member of the Task Force. He and Gina Ling were opening a crate with long crowbars. Gina was a small, slender oriental woman, though whipcord strong. Her lively eyes and face worked in concentration she helped get the lid off the crate. When the nails were loose, Mark pulled it up and set it aside. "Boss!" Mark yelled, "You are going to want to see this."
Gordie stepped around Juana and into the container, threading his way around packing materials. Gordie stepped up to the crate. A familiar smell emanated from the inside of the crate. Under the packing materials the dull black outline of guns was apparent. Lots of guns. Reaching inside the crate Gordie picked up a Chinese made machine gun. It was a QBZ-97, chambered for NATO rounds, black and flat colored. Gordie hefted it and checked it over. "That's just perfect." Gordie said with a sigh. He put the gun back in the crate.
"Mark, where did this thing come from?" Gordie asked. Mark grimaced, took his hat off and scrubbed his head. "The container was picked up in Indonesia. It is on a ship with containers that were supposed to be coming out of Taiwan. The company it's being shipped from is a shell company out of India. Money is going to the Caymans. The bill of lading marks this all potting soil." Mark said shaking his head.
