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She ushered them into the lavish, two-story entry and asked them politely to wait while she announced their arrival, all the while smiling pleasantly. Before she stepped away, two Asian men wearing suits approached. They briefly conversed with her in Chinese.
“Agent Fletcher, FBI. We have a warrant to search the premises and we wish to speak with Mister Cheng Zhou.”
From behind them, a voice boomed, drawing everyone’s attention. “I am Zhou. Let me see this warrant.” He stepped forward.
Laura Lee’s eyes wandered up and down him. He oozed wealth, right down to his expensive dress shoes that caused his footsteps to echo off the marble tile floor. He stood rigidly, reading the warrant. Laura Lee noticed that the woman was no longer in the entry. She had moved away soundlessly.
“My office is this way,” Zhou said. “You will find nothing of interest to you there.”
They all followed Zhou down a short hallway to the right, which was not the direction he’d come. He opened the door and turned on the light. Before them lay a room with carved wood walls featuring built-in bookcases and a large desk in the middle. Two red leather couches framed the walls. There was no computer on the desk and not a single painting on the walls.
“Mister Zhou, the warrant also gives us access to all the electronic devices in the home. Please have your men present their cell phones and if you would do the same, please,” Fletcher said.
“All cellphones are locked in storage bins in the garage. They are not permitted in the house, a security risk. Your warrant does not cover the garage,” Zhou said.
“We would like to conduct a search of your person to confirm that,” Fletcher said. “And where are the remainder of your security detail?”
“They are on patrol in other parts of the house and yard,” Zhou said.
“Are they armed?” Fletcher asked.
“Of course they are. They would not be much security if they were not,” Zhou said.
“Gentlemen, if you’d please deposit your weapons on the desk while we are on the premises,” Fletcher said to the two men who accompanied them into the room. The men looked to Zhou for permission.
“Jesus Christ,” complained Garcia. “Guns on the desk, now.”
The two men complied and unholstered theirQSZ-92 - 9 mm semi-automatics and set them on the desk. Fletcher transmitted to the other teams the numbers and locations of the other security on the grounds. “Can you contact your people and let them know we are on site?” he asked Zhou.
“They have already been notified. They are in the process of reporting here as we speak.”
“How, without cellphones?” Laura Lee asked.
“We have our own radio communications system. My men notified me you were here when you pulled onto my property.”
His manner was courteous. Laura Lee couldn’t stand the arrogant bastard. He was sure they had nothing on him and would find nothing. “This is your office?” she asked.
“It is,” Zhou said.
“Where is your computer?”
“My secretary and assistants do the menial tasks on the computer. I do not use one.”
“We’re going to need to examine all the computers on the premises,” Fletcher said.
Zhou nodded. He tapped his ear and then spoke in Chinese. They had their own comms, Laura Lee surmised.
“You are in luck. The workday lasts for thirty more minutes. All my employees are still present. They will all report here with their laptops to be examined.”
“Why are laptops allowed but not cellphones?” Garcia asked.
“The laptops are all on our network and monitored. Cellphones create too great of a risk. My business is targeted by many who would perpetrate corporate espionage. Our information is proprietary and highly sought after.”
Laura Lee wanted to challenge him regarding his so-called business, but she remained quiet. Soon the parade of his employees began. Four other security guards, equally buff-looking as the first two, entered and deposited their weapons beside the two other pistols. They were all physically searched by the FBI. Not one of them carried a cell phone. She noticed that they also had the intense gaze like Jin Ma had that night he stood behind the car. Was Jin Ma also one of Mister Zhou’s security guards?
The office workers were all older men who looked like accountants. They carried laptops with them when they entered. Garcia and Laura Lee collected and cross-referenced information in the settings that gave each device’s IP address. None of them were computers that were used to access the rental property emails, not that they had expected Zhou to willingly provide them with anything of value.
AIC Fletcher had stepped out. He was on the phone trying to get an amended search warrant that would allow a search of the garage and all its contents, so they could get at the phones.
