VCDs. A small run, maybe a few thousand for each item. Not the
sort of thing that can go through regular channels, but very profitable.
Ship them to the mainland, they do very well. You get me?
Not really. But he knows that now is not the time to interrupt with
the affirmative or negative. He waits.
You do get me, don't you? Don't you? Mr. Liu pushes the VCDs
across the table with an insistent squeak. Keep the VCDs. Free
samples. Watch them and you'll understand. Tell Mr. Allen that I'll
get him those files this afternoon. This one time. And Peitou better
be closed within the week.
He knows better than to ask Mr. Liu what Peitou is, what the VCDs
are, and yet the curiosity is maddening. No help for it, this is as
far as he can go, he is merely a representative, a Chinese face that
stands in for the American investigator, and in that role he must
be affable, professional, aiding and abetting.
Where in America are you from? Mr. Liu asks.
Houston? Houston? Mr. Liu smiles for the first time and raises
his arms in rough mimicry of a jump shot. Houston Rockets. Yao