Chapter 3

I’m sure you’ve heard this before: No plan survives first contact. In our plan, we were nonstop from BNE, 11 The Circuit, Brisbane Airport QLD 4008, Australia to Hong Kong International, 1 Sky Plaza Rd. Chek Lap Kok, Hong Kong. It would have been oh so convenient ... Hong Kong International is in Aberdeen, Hong Kong ... damn near walking distance to Starship.

“No,” said the man behind the counter. “We don’t fly direct to Hong Kong. We fly to Singapore or Manila.”

“But, my tickets ... paid in full.”

“Travel Agency?”

“Adams.”

“Credit Card scam. They’re not even in Australia. Let me guess ... you paid with a card.”

“Oh Shit!”

“That’s a yes. You should call your banking partner and cancel it?”

They’re Number 3 on my speed dial.

“National Australia Bank. How may I direct your call?”

“You people own the National Bank of New Zealand?”

“We do. How may I direct your call?”

“I may have problems with my credit card.”

“I’ll ring through.”

“Visa MasterCard. Please listen carefully to the following options:

“I don’t want a machine I want a human.”

When I shut up the phone said: “To register a complaint about possible illegal use press 4.”

I pressed 4.

“Your call is important to us. Due to the high volume of calls, your call will be answered by the next available operator.” Muzak took over.

I asked the man behind the counter, “Jerry? Is there a National Australia Bank branch in the airport?”

He pointed right. “Second right, second left.”

“Thank you, Jerry.”

“You’re welcome, ma’am.”

That came with the first genuine smile I’d seen since we’d arrived.

Second right, second left ... NAB ... first kiosk for arrivals after leaving Security.

“National Australia Bank.”

I waited in line. I still was hearing, “Your call is important to us. Due to the high volume of calls, your call will be answered by the next available operator.,” on my mobile device.

The line moved up ... My turn.

I presented my NBNZ (National Bank of New Zealand) Visa. The teller checked the card ... don’t ask me how ... as far as I’m concerned it’s magic.

“Yes, Miss Flintkote.”

“I think I need to report unauthorized access to my accounts.”

She put up a Next Window Please card in her window. She pointed to a door. “I’ll meet you there.”

Funny thing ... there was no knob or handle on the lobby side. The door opened. The three of us stepped through ... soundlessly the door closed.

The teller had my card in hand when she opened the door.

I reached for it.

“No Miss Flintkote ... chain of evidence. We keep the card until your suspicions are proven or disproved. Is this the first time?”

“As far as I know. I’ve had that card since I was 10.”

She knocked on the first door, spoke her name and waited. It buzzed. She pushed and it opened. “Security,” she said.

“How do they know it’s you?” I asked.

“Colour Camera.”

There was ... evidently ... more to this Branch than was evident. I asked.

“International Port of Entry.” As if that explained it.

It did.

Another door ... this one had a knob.

The man behind the desk looked like I thought my dad would look ... ready ... fit ... and suspicious. The teller handed him the card.

“SAS?” I asked.

“Yes ... what made you ask that?”

“You look like I think my dad would look ... if he were still alive.”

He looked at the card.

“Surprise M. Flintkote. Father, John Flintkote, mother. Sultry Wench Flintkote. Your mother was aptly named.”