Jerry rested his arm on the railing as he took a long drag of his Marlboro Red. He stared at the reflection of a perfectly circular moon surrounded by stars that looked like shimmery flecks of glitter, in the still water in front of him. It reminded him of an oil painted canvas. Slightly further away from the vanilla circle was a disjointed mess of gold and silver, reflections of some of the famous structures of the Lion City. For a moment, it reminded him of his life.

A blurred mess.

He took another long drag of his by now half burnt cigarette and looked up away from the water. He could see the famous Fullerton Hotel and behind it, the glorious Marina Bay Sands, the pride of the city. It looked perfect and classy, places where the wealthy would dine and strut in their best wear.

Ironical, he thought to himself as his mind wandered in rumination. The city looked perfect from the outside. But inside, it was far from it, dotted with pockets of muck and grime, spaces Jerry was all too familiar with.

Jerry stubbed out his cigarette in a trash can and began to walk through Boat Quay. It was busy, typical for a Saturday night. He walked past the row of flashy bars and restaurants by the river. Young men and women walked down the street nonchalantly, some in search of excitement, others in search of a respite from their mostly boring, mundane lives that had preoccupied the previous five days of their week.

As he slowed down to watch a giant crab trying to climb out of an aquarium in a meagre attempt to salvage its life from the steaming confines of a wok that boasted to produce the best Chili Crab on the street, he felt a slight nudge on his shoulder.

“Lo siento.” The voice sounded reflexive. “I’m sorry.” This time, it sounded like the lady had remembered she was in a foreign land. The strong Spanish accent coupled with a face and body that could make the hardest of men wobbly at the knees pointed towards Latin American descent.

“No problem,” said Jerry.

He smiled as he saw her turn around and walk away ever so elegantly, her hair waving like a spoon of silk in the night’s breeze. The look in her eyes had induced an urge in him, a primal itch that was begging to be scratched.

He knew where he needed to go. He kept walking. The places on this side of the street did not suit him well. It was too open.

Jerry looked over his shoulder. No familiar faces. A good sign. He took a right by Mogambo’s. The popular alley-side bar was packed to the brim. He snaked his way past the crowd. Most of them were Aussies. There was an equal share of Filipinas, dressed in tight clothes with the sole purpose of flaunting their assets, eager to offer company coupled perhaps with a sensual exchange to rich White men double their age, in return for free drinks and possibly cash before the night ended.

Past the alley, Jerry took a right into Circular Street. Many people didn’t talk about that street. The ugly duckling, as some would say. That was the street where the real action took place. It resembled the famous streets of Pattaya or Phuket, albeit a tamer version.

Jerry tried to remember the note from his contact. He had asked for a place that had a very specific set of requirements. He remembered for sure that it was somewhere on that street. His contact was never wrong. He kept walking.

“Hi handsome.”

A woman seated at a bar table by the corridor with three others took a particular interest in him.

“Want a drink?” she asked as she held his arm.

Jerry shook his head and released his arm from her grip gently.

“Can I have you tonight?” said another.

Jerry shook his head once more and walked past them. He kept walking, looking over his shoulder from time to time, scanning the street. Just as he passed by an Indian restaurant that displayed a variety of curries on the counter, he found what he was looking for.

THE SINGAPORE SLING, in red neon lights.

Edward jumped at the sudden buzzing of his cellphone. He grabbed the phone in anticipation. He let out an involuntary sigh when he saw the word “Jules” on the screen. Not that he had a problem with his wife calling – he was in a perfectly happy marriage with two beautiful kids. It was just not the call he had been expecting.

He swiped the call through.

“Hey, hun.”

Her voice was like a refreshing breeze of cool air, something Edward was desperately in need of.

“Hey, love.”

“You look like a mess.”

“Yes. I am,” said Edward with a sigh. “I’m jet lagged as fuck. I think I need a coffee. Or probably a whisky.”

Julie laughed. “What’s the time over there?”

Edward glanced at his watch. “8.32 p.m.”

“Have you eaten?”

Edward shook his head. “I probably should get something to eat.”

“I know I shouldn’t be asking but is everything ok? With whatever you went there for?”

“It’s a waiting game for now, I guess. I just hope I didn’t waste my time getting on a 10-hour flight here for nothing.”

“I’m sure it’ll be alright.”

“How’re the kids?”

“They’re alright. Getting ready for school.” Julie looked away from the camera. “Ben… Em… Come and say hi to daddy.”

Moments later, two blonde-haired children appeared with a smile that never failed to melt Edward’s heart each time.

“Hi daddy!” They exclaimed almost in unison.

“Hello there, sweethearts! Are you off to school?”

Both nodded their heads. “Will you be back in time for our play at school next week, daddy?” asked Emily.

“Of course. I promise,” said Edward with a smile. “You guys be good now. And take care of mummy for me, will ya?”

Once again, both nodded.

“Go on, finish up your cereal now. We’re leaving in ten.” Julie turned to face Edward.

“I miss you, love.”

“Miss you too, hun.”

“I guess I’ll talk to you later?”

Julie nodded.

“Do you really know when you’ll be back?” she whispered.

Edward shook his head.

Julie understood. This wasn’t her first rodeo.

“You take care of yourself now,” said Julie. “And be safe.”

“I will.”

“Je t’aime.”

Edward smiled. “I see your French is improving.”

“Oh, why yes, it is.”

“Moi aussi, je t’aime.”

Edward nodded, blew her a kiss, and hung up. He stared at his phone for a bit. He could only hope he would get that message he was waiting for and make it home in time for Emily’s school play.

The dark glass door opened to a smoky room that was dimly lit. Jerry couldn’t make out the song that was blaring in the background but knew it had to be Indian.

“Just one?” a young woman dressed in a tight dress asked.

He nodded.

“Right over here, Sir.”

The woman showed him to a table. He sat down and took a moment to scan the place.

It was full that night. Most of the people there were middle-aged men. At each table, a young woman who looked totally out of place, was seated. Right in the center of the room, more young women dressed in tight dresses swayed to the music rather drowsily in their high heels. To the naked eye, it would have meant nothing. But Jerry was the master of the trade. He knew exactly what it meant and that he had come to the right place. He smiled to himself.

Edward was awoken by the sound of the door closing. He had fallen asleep right after the call with Julie.

“I’m sorry, Sir,” said Assistant Superintendent of Police Vincent Lee.

“No worries,” replied Edward, blurry eyed.

He was still jet-lagged and suffering from a massive headache. The Singapore heat was killing him. Despite the air-conditioning in the room, he was roasting like a turkey.

“Any news, Sir?” asked Vincent.

“First of all, just call me Ed. Or Edward if you like. No need for the ‘Sir’”.

Vincent smiled. He was not used to this level of informality, that too with a senior, foreign officer.

“And to answer your question, I’m afraid not,” Edward continued. “Have you got any news on your side?”

Vincent shook his head.

Edward sighed.

“Do you mind if I ask you something?” Vincent was tempted to end the sentence with another ‘Sir’ but feared it might upset his guest.

“Please. Go ahead.”

“Can we trust Blue Star? What if he is a double agent?”

Edward remained silent. He had no answer to Vincent’s question.

Ever since he had landed in Singapore, his lines with Blue Star had gone cold. After 10 months of what he had considered the hardest investigation in his career that spanned an illustrious 15 years at the New Scotland Yard before his current secondment at Interpol Headquarters in Lyon, he was afraid that he had made a big mistake. Depending on one single source, who had remained anonymous. He knew nothing about the informant, thus far.

“To be honest, I don’t know, Vincent. All I can say is that I hope Blue Star is on our side.”

But thus far, Blue Star had never failed. He or she had supplied valuable intelligence that had helped Edward and his team piece together a transnational network of human traffickers that spanned Europe, South Asia and finally Southeast Asia.

Blue Star had come into the picture nine months ago. Edward and his team of criminal investigation analysts specializing in human trafficking were asked to look into an individual called Barry Khan operating out of Paris. Barry was on the periphery of a drug investigation by the French police when they had discovered that he was involved in bringing in girls of Northern Indian descent to be trafficked into various parts of Europe. The investigation brought Edward and team to Champagne, Northern France, near the Belgian border. They thought it was a small local gang who was behind it but soon realized that it was far from that.

A month into the investigation, Edward received an email from an anonymous source providing a reliable lead into a person of interest. Having nothing to lose, Edward pursued the lead, and it was spot on. From then on, the emails continued, and the leads kept coming. There was neither a name nor an identity attached to the sender. All the source asked for was a wad of cash for each lead delivered as a ‘dead drop’, a term used in espionage for denoting a prearranged location for the exchange of material without either party having to meet each other.

With the help of Blue Star, they were able to identify six key players in the trafficking network, their associates, and their subordinates. Edward’s team had learnt that Barry Khan was just a small fish in a vast, leaden sea of dangerous criminals. The head of the network was someone they had codenamed ‘Red Dragon’, a phantom of sorts, whom once again, they knew nothing about, but had just heard of in wire-tapped conversations between members of the network. They were now close, and Edward desperately needed Blue Star to pull through, one last time.

Two days ago, an email was sent to Edward stating that there was ‘a big fish to catch in Singapore’. He knew what that meant. He took the next flight out of Lyon and lodged himself in Interpol’s Singapore office on Napier Road.

There was no news since then and all he could do was wait.

“Can I get you something to eat…Edward?” asked Vincent, hesitating on the last word.

“That’ll be great. I’m starving as a matter of fact.”

“Would you like some Chili Crab? I know a good place just round the corner.”

Edward was tempted. But he wasn’t in the mood to risk messing with his gastrointestinal system that was used to mostly British fish and chips and more recently, French Bouillabaisse.

“Is there by any chance a McDonalds nearby?”

The moment he stepped into the place she knew he was the one. She had been waiting a long time. None of the men who had walked in that night matched the look, demeanor, and personality of the one she was looking for.

She gave it some more time. She watched him closely. The way he moved. The way he talked. The way he carried himself. He took a seat at the only empty table there was that night, in clear view from where she was standing, behind the dark glass. She waited a little more, to make sure one last time. Once she figured the time was right, she tugged at the bottom of her dress above her knees and just above her breasts to make sure everything was in place before she made her move.

Jerry stared blankly at the group of dancing women when a voice from behind knocked him out of his daze.

“May I get you a drink?”

Jerry turned and his eyes were bestowed with the sight of a beautiful woman. She looked mature, probably in her mid 30s. She had a heart shaped face with a high jawline and creamy vanilla skin. Her eyes were intense but at the same time exuded a soft, attractive passion.

“Sure.” Jerry thumbed through the menu. “If you were me, what would you have?”

She smiled exposing a perfect set of polished teeth. “The Singapore Sling.”

“Make it two. And come join me.”

She smiled shyly and nodded before leaving to the bar.

A couple of minutes later, she came back with two martini glasses filled with a smooth, peach colored liquid. She placed the drinks on the table and sat down in front of him.

Jerry couldn’t help but feel a bubble within him grow exponentially.

“So, what’s your name?”

She held his gaze for a moment. “Ariana.”

He knew it wasn’t her real name.

“And you?” she asked.

“Jerry.”

“Are you local?”

“No,” he said shaking his head. “I’m visiting. From England. And you?”

“Originally from India.”

“You don’t sound very Indian.”

She looked at him with quizzical eyes. “I’ve been around.”

“Whereabouts?”

“England. Hungary. Romania. France. And then, I came to Asia.”

“Why?”

“A new experience, perhaps.”

“And is this the only work you do?”

She took a sip of her drink. “If I tell you that, I’m afraid I’d have to kill you.”

Jerry was impressed at the level of her intelligence. She was different. A notch above the rest. Even her accent was not the typical. There was a heavy European twang about it, a twang that sounded familiar but one that he couldn’t quite pinpoint exactly.

“How long have you been here?” he asked.

“A couple of months.”

“Why Singapore though?”

“Life takes you to unexpected places sometimes.”

There was a lot more to her. But Jerry felt a resistance. It was time to start playing his cards differently.

“I’m not trying to impress you or anything, but you have beautiful eyes.”

“Thank you,” she said.

“You could very well be in the movies with your looks. What do they call it in your country? Bollywood, right?”

She liked it. All she wanted was to get him out of there and to some place private. Where she would be able to be free and do what she had been waiting for.

“Do you want to go upstairs?” she asked, biting her lip to make sure the message went across loud and clear.

She took the bait, Jerry thought to himself. He could sense she had been waiting for the same thing he had been waiting for the entire evening.

As soon as they had downed their drinks, she held his hand and walked with him past the glass door at the far end of the room. She led him up a dimly lit staircase. Her heels clanked against the stair boards with every step, a reflection of her urgency.

They made it up to a small corridor with two rooms, one on each side. She went for the one on the left.

The room was relatively spacious, with a queen-sized bed and a small couch next to it. The entire space smelled of rose-scented air freshener.

“This is for us,” she said.

“How much will it cost?” he asked. “For everything.”

Looking straight into his eyes, she proceeded to unbutton his shirt and placed her soft hand on his chest. “I don’t feel like charging today.”

“Why?”

“I just don’t feel like it.”

“Is there a reason you’re doing this?”

She smiled as her fingers made its way up his neck and stopped at his lips. “I need it as much as you do.”

Something didn’t quite feel right. But Jerry was like any other man, a mortal being who never fails to be clouded by a carnal desire for the opposite sex.

There was no more talking.

She tore his shirt open with a lascivious force in between spurts of passionate kissing. It was his turn. He took it a notch slower than her, savoring the process. He thumbed the straps of her tight black dress all the way down her shoulders, guiding it past her hips until it fell to the floor.

She wasn’t wearing anything underneath as if she knew this was where the night would end. She stood there for a moment in front of him, in all her primitive glory, before stepping closer. She gently edged him toward the bed before nudging him to sit down. She took her place on top of him, wrapping her legs tightly around his waist.

They went at it in perfect sync, like chords in harmony. She had wanted to experience all she had longed for, with him.

He ran his hands through her silky hair, feeling the soft strands tickle his rough palms. He could smell the fruity scent of shampoo wafting from it. He liked that very much. He moved his hands from her hair to her waist, gently guiding her momentum as he liked it. Feeling her smooth skin, now slightly damp with sweat, made the little hairs in his follicles stand on end. As he moved his hand up her shoulder blade, he felt a slight bump on her skin.

He rubbed it once more. There was surely something there.

“What’s the matter?” she asked.

“I feel something on your skin,” he replied.

“It’s a tattoo.”

“Can I see it?”

Abruptly stopping in the middle of something good wasn’t very pleasant but she found his inquisitiveness attractive. It turned her on. It made her want him more.

She turned around to reveal two words in a foreign script inscribed on her skin in a greenish blue hue.

“What language is this?”

“Hindi.”

“What does it say?”

“Laal Ajagar.”

“What does that mean?”

She kissed him softly, taking her time to suck each lip. “Red Dragon,” she said almost whispering into her ear. “That’s what they call me.”

Jerry felt his pulse race through his veins.

“Who gave you that name?”

“Someone from a land where the best wines are made,” she said, almost whispering once again. “While you try and guess where that is, it’s been too long. Let’s not stop what we started.”

A land where the best wines are made? Think… think… think…

It finally clicked.

Now it made sense. A land where the best wines are made. Champagne. Her accent. Champenois. Laal Ajagar. Red Dragon.

Jerry had broken the enigma code.

Now all he had to do was find a way to get to his phone.

Edward was two-thirds of the way through his Big Mac when he heard a ping on his phone. He was too hungry to even bother. He figured it was Julie and decided to get to it after he was done.

Less than a minute later, there was another ping. Curiosity got the better of him.

He placed the remnants of his burger down, wiped his oily fingers on a piece of tissue and got hold of his phone.

Two encrypted emails from Blue Star.

Adrenaline rushed up Edward’s spine. He opened his secure email.

EMAIL 1: FALSE ALARM.

EMAIL 2: NO SIGN OF RED DRAGON.

A FEW MINUTES BEFORE…

“What’s the matter?” she asked.

“Nothing. Umm… I just need to go to the toilet real quick,” said Jerry.

“It’s over here, not there.”

Damn it… The nerves were getting the better of him.

She turned to her side and rested her head on her palm calmly. “If you’re looking for your phone, it’s in the drawer by the dresser.”

Jerry stopped, his heels rooted to the floor.

“Go on… you’ve got to send him a message that you’ve found Red Dragon, haven’t you?”

Jerry felt a rush up his spine. His heart began thumping so hard he could feel the vibrations of his rib cage.

“I know fully well who you are, Jerry.”

He felt like retching now. Thankfully, he had not eaten.

“How?” he asked.

“That’s none of your business.”

“What do you want?”

“You’re doing this for money, aren’t you?”

He didn’t answer.

“I’ll pay you triple the amount they’re paying you. You tell me what they’re planning next, and I’ll tell you what to feed them with accordingly.”

Jerry didn’t know if it was the woman lying in front of him, the cash that she was promising or a combination of both. All he did was smile.