The Calm Before the Storm!
Looking back at those first few months of 2011, January through March, I can see that Hong genuinely cared for me then. She was trying, in her own way, to shield me from her family and the Triads, to keep the worst of their schemes at bay. Maybe the birth of our son changed something in her, softened her resolve, if only for a little while. It was a brief window, just a few months, before everything unraveled.
One day, we went to a government office in Vietnam to apply for our son’s birth certificate. I snapped a photo, not thinking much of it at the time. Now, that image feels almost prophetic. I had no idea how much truth it would hold, or how quickly that fleeting sense of safety would be shattered. The nightmare was just around the corner, waiting for its cue.
The Corrupt Local Police
For ten months, I lived in that house without a single visit from the local police. Then, just two weeks after I brought the Chinese Yuan into Vietnam, everything changed. Suddenly, the officers at the end of our street started showing up; first, soliciting donations for some cause I didn’t fully understand, and after that, making regular appearances every few weeks. I couldn’t follow their conversations, but Hong would sometimes bring me outside to meet them. At the time, it felt strange, but I chalked it up to neighborhood politics.
Now, I see it differently. Those meetings weren’t random. They were likely plotting how to set me up, how to get their hands on my money. I remember how I’d only go outside once every couple of days, but whenever I did, the same officer would be strolling past my house, right on cue. The timing was too perfect to be coincidence. It was psychological warfare, meant to keep me uneasy, to remind me they were always watching.
The games escalated after Hong managed to steal my customs declaration, effectively trapping my money in the country. The police presence ramped up. I realized later they were probably watching me through my own security cameras, which Hong had helped them hack by getting me out of the house long enough for their people to access the system. A few weeks after the Airplane Scam, I microwaved the hard drive from my security system, hoping to destroy any evidence or access they had. The very next day, I ran into that same cop. He glared at me, mimed smoking; an unmistakable reference to the way “ice” is consumed. At the time, I didn’t fully grasp the message, still struggling to reconcile how people who’d smiled at me for over a year could harbor such malice.
It took time, sometimes days, sometimes months, to piece together the significance of all these moments. Once I realized Hong was fully involved, I had to go back and re-examine every memory, every seemingly innocent encounter. Suddenly, the most mundane events took on a sinister edge.
Despite the police visits, those months from January through March 2011 were mostly quiet. I believe Hong was trying to protect me, resisting the pressure from her family and the Triads because I was the father of her newborn son. But that fragile peace wouldn’t last. By the end of March, everything would change.
The Pig Roast Farewell
March 27th, 2011. Hong told me we had to drive five hours back to her parents’ house in the jungle; her father wanted to kill a pig in our son’s honor. We’d already visited three times since our son was born, so I asked why this ceremony hadn’t happened before. She didn’t answer.
Two weeks earlier, something strange had happened as we were leaving her parents’ place. The local prison warden, a friend of her father, called Hong over. She came back to the car visibly upset. When I asked why, she said he’d asked, “Aren’t you Le’s daughter?” She replied, “Yes, but I have a mind of my own.” He shot back, “I didn’t know Le’s daughter was so outspoken.” I only understood the real meaning later: he was chastising her for not framing me, reminding her that scamming Americans was expected, a family tradition. That conversation must have been the final push; just two weeks later, Hong invented the pig story, using our son as bait to get me down there one last time.
That trip felt off from the start. Her uncles wouldn’t meet my eyes; some looked ashamed. Now I know why; they were all in on it. They knew what was coming, and maybe felt a twinge of guilt, especially since I’d bought them new motorcycles just months before. Hong mentioned that her father and uncles talked about my bravery, saying they’d live more like me if they could do it over. I see it now for what it was: a farewell. They even asked me to kill the pig myself, an honor usually reserved for family, not outsiders, and never for someone so new to the fold. I agreed, figuring it was expected, not wanting to offend. The truth is, it was a ritual sendoff, their way of saying goodbye before the trap closed.
WARNING: The video below is graphic; it’s me killing the Pig “in my son’s honor” on March 27th, 2011.
The Midnight Snack
Three days after the pig slaughter, March 30th, 2011, Hong got a call at midnight. Ten seconds, a few words, then she hung up and suddenly announced she wanted to get something to eat. That was unusual. Hong never wanted to go out after 10 PM. She was always wary of the streets at night, said it was when the criminals came out.
Still, I agreed. As we headed to the garage, Hong paused and said, “Did you hear that moto stop in front of our house?” I hadn’t heard a thing. Then she asked me to drive in the direction of the supposed motorcycle, even though it meant turning down a pitch-black alley. It struck me as odd, but I went along.
We pulled up to two men sharing a motorbike. They laughed when they saw us; I laughed back, tossed out a sarcastic greeting in Vietnamese. Hong seemed uneasy, almost resigned. Looking back, it’s clear she was being pressured, caught between loyalty and fear.
Two weeks later, after the Airplane Plot failed, I saw the same guy from the back of that motorcycle trying to get into the salon/massage parlor I’d bought for Hong’s sister. The place was closed and locked, but I recognized him before he turned away. It took a few minutes to piece it together, but I eventually learned he was one of Giang’s goons. Giang, Hong’s criminal friend, not to be confused with Triad boss John Lam, real-name Guang Lin.
I’m convinced now that midnight call was from Giang, instructing Hong to lure me outside, maybe to size me up, maybe to stage something for their framing plot. Knowing Hong, she’d never willingly walk into a risky situation at night, let alone push me toward it. That night was out of character for her, which only proves how deep she was in by then. She was helping them, whether she wanted to or not.
The email in the photo above arrived from Hong while I was in Macau; just two days before the Airplane Scam. That same day, she was also messaging her friend “7,” celebrating what she thought would be my permanent downfall. I wouldn’t discover that second message, left unsent in her outbox, until after I’d managed to escape.
In her email, Hong told me she was leaving both me and our son for good, claiming she planned to join a monastery and help disabled people. Up until that point, she’d never even hinted at leaving. She always expressed gratitude for everything I’d done for her family. This was the first time she’d ever said anything like this, and it was no coincidence, it was all part of the setup. She was laying the groundwork, preparing for my arrest, trying to clear the decks before the trap closed.
Maybe it was also meant to rattle me, to make sure I’d be visibly upset on my flight home, or to tempt me into changing my travel plans, anything to keep me off balance, just as the scam was set to go down on April 14th, 2011. Part of me wants to believe she was trying to help, but that unsent “cheers” message to “7” tells a different story. Was she celebrating my destruction, or was there a part of her that hesitated at the last second? I’ll never know for sure.
The Triad Party Invite on April 12, 2011
Hong is on the left, and 7’s cousin Yen is on the right in the above picture. Yen had a rich Triad boyfriend that lived part-time in Vietnam and the remainder in America. Yen’s boyfriend was in Macau and part of the airplane scam on April 14th, 2011. Yen invited me to a party on April 12th that I didn’t go to at the Golden Dragon Casino. Why would she ask me to a party where her boyfriend is? Not only that, but her boyfriend also spoke English and was the one to call me from Yen’s phone. He called me several times and kept inviting me even though we had never met, and he had no reason to want me there other than to help forward the scam. It was a staged party meant for me to be sized up and possibly create false witnesses while still in Macau before they executed the airplane scam two days later
THE AIRPLANE SCAM – PHASE 1 (The Purchase)
The ATM Machine Setup on April 13, 2011
UnionPay is an ATM service in Asia that lets you deposit cash and send it to someone with a UnionPay account, even if you don’t have an account yourself. In the two months leading up to the Airplane Scam, “7” and John kept complaining about a friend of theirs, Rocks, who’d supposedly been sending money for them and had stolen some in the process. They made a show of it: on April 13th, 2011, the Triad boss’s wife, Yuri, came to 7’s house and called Rocks on speakerphone, loud enough for me to hear. She accused him of stealing the money, he denied it, and the whole thing played out like a bad soap opera. I realize now it was all for my benefit. Rocks was in on it from the start.
After Yuri hung up, “7” turned to me. She asked if I could send $90,000 MOP, about $13,000 USD, to her husband in China using UnionPay. She said she’d give me the cash to send, but couldn’t do it herself because her work permit showed she only made minimum wage. If there were cameras, she worried she’d be questioned. I didn’t think twice. These were my friends, or so I believed. I agreed, happy to help.
7’s sister, Kieu, came along to the ATM. She held her phone up the whole time, and I thought nothing of it. Now I know she was filming me, capturing evidence, proof that I sent the money. That cash was meant for the purchase of a stolen artifact, a necklace, and they wanted me on tape, locked into their frame job with no way out. The date was April 13th, 2011, the day before I boarded my flight back to Ho Chi Minh City.
Rocks Cheng played his part perfectly, the unreliable friend, always just shady enough to stir suspicion. It was all a setup to get me in the hot seat. By making it look like he’d stolen money, they needed a “trustworthy” outsider to handle the next transfer. That’s how I ended up at the ATM, sending the money through UnionPay, while Kieu discreetly filmed the whole thing. They wanted undeniable proof; footage of me making a payment they could later claim was for something illegal. The entire scenario was engineered to frame me, down to the last detail.
THE AIRPLANE SCAM – PHASE 2 (Make sure I’m high)
The day I left Macau for the airport on April 14th, 2011, something was different. All the girls were hitting “ICE” harder than I’d ever seen before, blowing the smoke in my direction, urging me to take more every couple of minutes. I kept turning them down, but they wouldn’t let up. I was confused, but I didn’t let myself dwell on it. These were my friends, I told myself. Why would I suspect anything else? Looking back, their insistence wasn’t about sharing a high, it was about making sure I was compromised, just one more layer in their plan to set me up.
THE AIRPLANE SCAM – PHASE 3 (Assure I was rattled in flight)
The day before I was set to fly out of Hong Kong, just a couple of hours after I’d sent the money via UnionPay, “7” left for China to meet her husband, John “Guang Lin”. They told me they’d see me at the airport the next day, that we’d all be flying back to Vietnam together. I believed them.
But the next day, after I’d boarded the ferry, John called. Ten minutes into the ride, he confessed everything. “Sorry,” he said. “All the girls and I have been scamming you from the start. We’re not meeting you at the airport. 7 and I had a fight. Hong and her whole family are in on it, they do this all the time. I also helped with your scam, but I feel terrible and needed to clear my conscience.”
I was reeling. I didn’t realize it then, but they were tracking me, my iPhone had been cloned, giving them remote access and my exact location. I was so distracted, arguing with Hong on the phone, that I got off at the wrong train stop after the ferry. I told John I was at the airport, but he pressed, “Are you really there already?” He knew exactly where I was, he just didn’t want me to miss my flight and ruin their carefully timed plan. The whole thing was choreographed, down to my last steps.
I barely made it onto the flight; last to board, heart pounding. When I got to my row, the seats meant for John and “7” were already taken. The man next to me started talking right away, too eager, asking pointed questions: Was I seeing the girls in Macau? That was my first red flag. Only a small fraction of passengers on flights out of Hong Kong are coming from Macau, and he was sitting in a seat reserved for John or “7.” He had an earpiece, squinting as if listening to instructions, his words too rehearsed.
I confronted him, told him I knew he was involved. He just laughed. I asked if he was a powerful guy. He smirked and said, “Yes.” I pressed, “How much to let one girl go free?”; his answer: “$1200 US.” Pure venom in his eyes. I told him I might be naive, but when I know someone’s my enemy, I win every time. Then I told him to fuck off and grabbed my suitcase, heading for the bathroom. Paranoia kicked in; they could have planted drugs on me. That thought came out of nowhere, but it made sense given everything else.
This was Phase 3 of their scam: rattle me, make sure I looked agitated so multiple witnesses could say I was acting strange, giving police a reason to search me for drugs they hadn’t yet managed to plant. But they hadn’t counted on me making a scene, drawing attention from everyone on board, including the flight attendants. Suddenly, the scrutiny was on them, not just me. That hesitation, that extra set of eyes, might have saved me.
I still have the receipts for United Flight 0869 on April 14th, 2011; tickets for myself, John (“Guang C Lin”), and “7” (“My Phan”). The seating chart shows we were supposed to be together. The Triads needed their people close by to pull off the scam, so John and “7” acted like they wanted to fly with me, keeping those seats open for their operatives, who were ticketed elsewhere but moved in once the plane boarded. Every detail was orchestrated, except for my refusal to play by their script.
Thirty seconds after I locked myself in the airplane bathroom, the knocking started; loud, frantic. A flight attendant’s voice cut through the door, asking if I’d brought my suitcase in with me. Someone had reported seeing me enter with my bag. I answered, “Yes, I’ll be out in a minute.”
We’d only been in the air about ten minutes. The attendants kept banging as I tore through my suitcase, convinced I’d find drugs planted inside. I found nothing. After three tense minutes, I stepped out, apologizing. I told the flight crew I was being set up, spilled out the whole story of the past twenty-four hours right there in the galley. They listened, sympathetic. I asked them to have the police waiting in Vietnam. They told me they’d already made the call; it was protocol in situations like this. The die was cast, and all I could do was brace for what was waiting on the ground.
THE AIRPLANE SCAM – PHASE 4 (Strategically plant witnesses)
The flight attendants kept me at the back of the plane, away from the man who’d been sitting next to me. But then something odd happened; three men drifted toward the rear, a few rows at a time, and settled in around me, as if they were coordinating. Even one of the flight attendants remarked that it seemed strange, agreeing that something was off, though he couldn’t put his finger on it.
When we landed, the attendant instructed me to wait until everyone else had disembarked. But two men, dressed as Phat Giao monks, lingered in the exit row, making no move to leave. They had no luggage, no reason to hang back, except to wait for me. I could feel it: they were part of the setup. I told them, in no uncertain terms, to get the hell off the plane. They glared at me, but left ahead of me, just as I demanded.
That was Phase 4 of the frame job: have conspirators behind me as I left the plane, ready to claim they saw me take something out of my pocket, giving corrupt police the pretext to plant evidence in a private room. By forcing the fake monks to exit first, in plain view of the flight attendants, I blocked that part of the plan. Later, Hong confirmed they were Triads, fully involved in the scam. My refusal to play along, my insistence that they go before me, kept them from fabricating the story they needed. They knew it, and so did I.
THE AIRPLANE SCAM – PHASE 5 (Assure I took the cloned iPhone)
I wasn’t out of danger yet. As soon as I stepped off the plane, fifteen police officers were waiting for me. I started explaining what had happened, but one cop kept pressing me to take an iPhone and some cash I’d supposedly left behind on the airplane.
This was Phase 5 of their scam: make sure I took the cloned iPhone, almost certainly loaded with fake text messages connecting me to crimes in China. A week later, John showed up at my house, trying to plead innocence. I glanced at his phone and saw my own contacts. When I called him on it, he fumbled for an excuse, said it must’ve happened when he used my iTunes account, which I’d let him access to save money on apps. It was a lie, but by then, I’d learned not to expect the truth.
Back at the airport, I stood my ground. I told the cop no, that the phone wasn’t mine, and that this was all part of a setup. He kept pushing, but I refused; told him to fuck off. The other officers laughed, watching their colleague fail to bend me to his will. I realize now that cop was in on the plot, desperate for me to take the phone so they could tie up the story: fake monks as witnesses, planted evidence, the final nail in my coffin. If I’d taken it, they’d have carted me off to jail for good and helped themselves to everything I owned back at my house in Tan Binh. Hong would have played innocent, claiming the police stole my money.
But because I forced the fake monks to exit first, refused the iPhone and cash, and made such a scene that the airline staff were on high alert, the whole plan unraveled. I’d managed to block every branch of their scheme. After months of planning, they had no clean way to finish the job. I was lucky to walk out of there that night. Fortune, stubbornness, and a few split-second decisions saved me from a setup that was meant to bury me forever.
AIRPLANE SCAM OVER – Now I’m home and know my wife is evil
When I got home, everything exploded. Hong and I got into a brutal argument. In the chaos, I threw her across the room, and she started smashing her head against the concrete wall; deliberate, violent, saying she wanted to die. It was raw, desperate, the kind of scene that leaves scars. Hong’s sister, Tuoi, stood by and watched, her face twisted with hatred; not at me, but at Hong. She didn’t intervene, didn’t try to stop Hong until she’d slammed her head against the wall a dozen times.
A month earlier, I’d overheard Hong and Tuoi talking upstairs. Tuoi had been crying. She moved out a few days later. Now, looking back, it’s clear: that was when Hong told Tuoi what was coming for me. Tuoi cared about me enough that she couldn’t stand to live under the same roof, knowing what was about to happen. The betrayal wasn’t just mine to bear. It rippled through everyone caught in the web.
IMPORTANT: THIS IS WHERE SEASON 1 WILL END. THE SECTION IN THE BEGINNING CALLED “Exit 2015” WILL BE THE END OF SEASON 2, BUT WITH MUCH MORE REVEAL AND DETAIL THAN WHAT I EXPLAINED IN EXIT 2015. YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW JAW DROPPING THE DETAILED VERSION OF EXIT 2015 IS, WHICH IS WHY IT WILL BE SAVED FOR THE FINALE OF SEASON 2 IN ADDITION TO THE TEASER VERSION BEING USED AS THE COLD OPEN OF SEASON 1.
THERE ARE MANY MORE DETAILS IN THE SERIES SCRIPT THAT ARE NOT COVERED ON THIS WEBSITE VERSION OF THE STORY. CLICK CONTINUE BELOW TO SEE WHAT HAPPENS IN SEASON 2 AND BEYOND