The Brown Recluse

The Brown Recluse

Part 4

Thirty-seven

“…a belief in a supernatural source of evil is not necessary; men alone are quite capable of every wickedness.”

Joseph Conrad

Billy Ray

16 July 2007

I responded to Jian-mei, "We can discuss this later. We have to find Cloud." I picked up the house phone and rang her room. There was no answer. Then I rang Wen-biao's room at the Hotel de Paris. He did not answer. Then I took the card from my wallet and dialed Brigitte Jourdan. She answered.

"Brigitte, Jian-mei tells me Chang Dong-hue has ordered Cloud, Hong, and me taken out. I can’t find Cloud, but I suspect she is with Wen-biao. If the information is factual, she is in mortal danger. The only thing that might keep her alive is they need to get to me first. I can still divert the oil, and they know it."

She assessed the situation and said, "Billy Ray, don't trust Jian-mei. You know nothing about her or her motives. We need to put a couple of actions in motion on this end. When Wen-biao returns, let me know, and I will provide safeguards for you and Cloud."

Billy Ray said, "I have made my decision about Jian-mei. If she is stringing me along, then we are toast. I must go with my gut on this one. Do what you can to find Cloud. At least I know these people are serious players, and I will act accordingly. If we can bring Cloud in safely, you can handle Wen-biao and Ya-gong."

I hung up and turned to Jian-mei. "Do you want to call your mother from here?"

She placed a forefinger on her lips and answered, "No. I have a satellite phone in my room. Let's go there."

I hesitated. What does this beautiful woman have in store for me? Is she setting me up? Is she going to kill me? Is she the infamous Brown Recluse? Oh well, I thought, I will give her a little more rope and see what happens. The worst thing that can happen is I can die. We left my room and headed for the Hotel de Paris.

*****

Thirty-eight

If we had a keen vision and feeling of all ordinary human life, it would be like hearing the grass grow and the squirrel’s heart beat, and we should die of that roar which lies on the other side of silence.

George Eliot

Jian-Mei

16 July 2007

When we arrived at my room in the Hotel De Paris, I removed the phone from a special piece of luggage and dialed Macau. Mother answered after a couple of rings. Since the conversation was in Mandarin Chinese, Billy Ray understood nothing. I could be calling Chang Dong-hue, and he would never know the difference. I believe he trusts me.

I beseeched my mother, "Honored Mother, we have often spoke of such a time, when we must throw caution to the wind and run for our lives. That occasion is upon us. I can no longer be an instrument of death. I must have some meaning to my life other than as an instrument of the Chang family. We must break free and live as we choose or die in the effort."

My revelation came as a shock to Gui-lian. A moan issued from her throat, and she said, "I understand Jian-mei, but Chang Dong-hue is an evil man with long tentacles. We might never be safe from him or Wen-biao. But, if you believe it is time, then we will do as you wish."

I understood my mother was not a brave person, so I assumed the role of leader. "Since I am out of the country, it is likely you are not closely watched. You can make your escape to the airport and leave Macau. I will likely have to kill Wen-biao. He would never allow us to live in peace, and he would like nothing better than to kill me anyway. Ya-gong may get in the way as well."

A primitive cry of anguish came from Feng Gui-lian. "Jian-mei! Please. You must not kill Wen-biao."

I knew Wen-biao was just as brutal as his father was. I asked, "But why? He is worse than Chang Dong-hue is. He is more unstable."

A moment of silence ensued. Finally, Gui-lian found her voice and uttered, "Please forgive me, Jian-mei. I have protected you from this information your entire life and vowed never to divulge it. If you are determined to kill Wen-biao, you must know he is your half-brother."

Silence filled the airways between Macau and Monte Carlo. I felt my knees go weak, and I might have sank to the floor had not Billy Ray moved to support me. He eased me to the edge of the bed.

Gui-lian asked in a shrill voice, "Jian-mei, Jian-mei. Are you there?"

The full impact of the information shared by Gui-lian grew as I connected the dots. "I am here, Mother."

Gui-lian continued, "My dearest daughter. I was one of Chang Dong-hue's playthings, until he grew tired of me many years ago. You were the issue. You have blessed my life for as long as you have lived. Your father uses you for his personal gain. That is the reason he provided for our modest existence. When you excelled in the gymnasium and in the classroom, he decided you might have value even though you were female. He paid for your education, but it was for his own future needs. He soon realized Wen-biao alone would never be stable enough to carry on after he left the scene, so he trained you to be Wen-biao’s watchdog."

I knew this disclosure could have no influence on the decision at hand, so I set my plan in motion. "Dear Mother, this is too much for me to process at once. We must deal with the world as it is. You must pack a small bag and leave as quickly as possible. If you look under the top drawer in my bureau, you will find a key taped to the bottom. Take the key to the Bank of Portugal and ask for my deposit box. In it, you will find new papers and money to get you out of the country. I have included detailed instructions on where to go and what to do once you get there. You will fly to India. From there you will fly to Hawaii, where you will live in an apartment I have already secured. Keep a low profile. When I arrive, we will become citizens of another world and leave Macau behind forever."

I could tell from her voice, Mother was feeling a sense of freedom. She said, "You are a wise daughter, Jian-mei. I trust your judgment, and I will do as you say."

"Then I will see you in Hawaii, Honored Mother. Until then," I reluctantly broke the connection.

My thoughts melted into the horror of my life. Chang Dong-hue, who shaped me as if I was a piece of pottery, is my father. How could he treat his own daughter in such a manner? I considered my own existence and the unspeakable acts I had performed. I am not much better than he is. So what should I do? No one understands Wen-biao any better than I do. He is depravity personified, and would delight in taking the lives of both my mother and me. Finally, I succumbed to pressures no human should have to withstand. I lay back on the bed and large tears escaped from my eyes.

Billy Ray had no idea what was taking place. Even though he could not understand a word of the conversation he had just heard, he had only to observe the emotions on my face to understand that I was suffering a severe emotional trauma.

Billy Ray lifted me from the bed and took me in his arms. I buried my face in his neck and allowed the years of control and absence of emotion to drain away in a deluge of tears and anguished cries. When finally the flood subsided, I looked into the face of this strange, foreign man. I saw something there that triggered my body in such a way as never before. While I had experienced many sexual contacts in my life, they were always for a purpose and without either physical or emotional feelings. This was the first time my mind and body reacted in such a way. An exquisite, powerful surge of sexual desire canceled out all other thoughts. Nothing else mattered.

I touched Billy Ray's lips with my own, and quickly our kisses became feverish. Soon, my breasts were his playground and his hard body was mine. When the time was right, he entered me, and I gasped with pleasure at his size. My sexual world came full circle, as his slow movements gradually intensified. I embraced every tiny nuance of his lovemaking, and soon, I exploded into a massive orgasm that changed my life forever

*****

Thirty-nine

“There is no living thing that is not afraid when it faces danger. The true courage is in facing danger when you are afraid, and that kind of courage you have in plenty.”

L. Frank Baum

Feng Gui-lian

16 July 2007

I sank to my knees following the exchange with my daughter. As the consequences of the conversation began to seep into my consciousness, the apartment closed in around me. Having Jian-mei learn Big Chang was her father was torment enough. I had guarded this secret of secrets for my daughter’s entire life, only to have it surface at the worst possible time. Not only must my beloved daughter deal with the dishonor of having an abusive criminal for a father, but she must endure the shame of having an uncaring, cruel brother as well.

I got up from the floor and sat on the edge of my bed. I decided to think this through and do what was best for Jian-mei. Even though I was only sixty-years-old, my cowardly life was over. No sacrifice on my part would be too great to insure the survival of my daughter. The abuse heaped on Jian-mei by her father and brother must stop.

The conversation with my daughter convinced me Jian-mei would take Wen-biao's life. Additionally, my instructions to run were plain enough. My daughter planned to cut all ties with her present life and take her chances on the run. However, I knew Chang Dong-hue. He would never rest. He would hound both Jian-mei and me to the ends of the earth. I also concluded that I would be an additional obstacle in the continued existence of my daughter and not a help to her survival at all. As the cold, harsh truth of the situation invaded my thoughts, one idea came to mind. If my daughter was to survive, I must kill Chang Dong-hue.

I considered the possibilities. Chang's assistant, Kim Lili-kue, was more of a friend to the Fengs than Dong-hue realized. She had surreptitiously aided me on more than one occasion when dealing with Chang Dong-hue. While my presence at Chang Enterprises, Limited was not a common occurrence, it would not be especially unusual.

I believed I could get in to see him, but what should I do after I got there? I had never asked Big Chang for money. That would be a shocking departure from the norm. He would become very angry and, perhaps, attempt to strike me. Then he would be vulnerable. I had several of Jian-mei’s snakewood daggers in my possession, and they would pass through security without a hitch.

I realized Lili-kue would have no choice but to inform security. The security forces in the office building were substantial and competent. They would catch me. The act would likely cost me my life, but the price was not too high. If Big Chang were dead, Jian-mei would be free to live her life outside of China without fear of reprisal, especially in light of Wen-biao’s imminent demise. The under bosses would be too busy fighting their way to the top of the heap to pay much attention to the whereabouts of Jian-mei. I would die, so my daughter might live. It was only fair. Besides, the quality of my present life under the thumb of Big Chang, and in a perpetual state of fear, was abysmal at best.

As I dressed for my final visit to the offices of Chang Enterprises, Limited, my meager possessions seemed to call out to me. My eyes lingered on them as I walked around the apartment. I could not resist reaching in the back of a chest and lifting out a tiny dress that once covered my beloved child. I crushed it to my face, breathing in the musty smell. Then, I placed it back in the chest and smoothed it out one last time.

I placed the dagger in my purse. I realized I would only get one small window of opportunity, and that I must be successful, or all would be lost. I decided my plan was as good as it was likely to get, so I took one last look at my world, opened the door, and left to meet my fate, a lifetime of cowardice slipping away.

I sat on the bus and watched the Macau city life pass in review. The smells appeared sharper, the sun brighter, and colors more brilliant as the bus gradually made its way to the offices of Big Chang. I felt the dagger's container through my purse and visualized the killing blow. Soon, I left the bus to stand in front of the tall building that housed Chang Dong-hue's empire. I entered and got on the elevator.

Calmly, I passed through the several layers of security at Chang Enterprises, limited and strolled into the outer office of Chang Dong-hue. My presence in the building was not an extraordinary event, so I attracted little attention. I spoke, “Lili-kue, I love your new haircut. When did you decide to change?”

Big Chang's administrative assistant touched her hair in a coquettish manner and retorted, “We must never stop looking for a man, Gui-lian. I may be a bit long in the tooth, but there is still some spirit left in this old girl. How have you been?”

I made every effort to speak in a relaxed manner, “I am fine. I was shopping for fish in the Chang Market. The catch today is quite good. I recalled that a matter exists requiring me to speak with Mr. Chang. I realize I don’t have an appointment, but perhaps he will see me for just a short moment”

Lili-kue smiled and picked up the phone. “Of course, Gui-lian. Let me check with Mr. Chang.”

When Chang Dong-hue answered, Lili-kue, as usual, spoke in a submissive voice, “Mr. Chang. Feng Gui-lian would like to speak with you if you can spare the time.”

Lili-kue listened for a moment and then said, “Yes Mr. Chang. I will send her right in.” She hung up the phone, rose, and opened the office door for me. I passed through the door as I had so many times during the past thirty years.

When I entered, Big Chang hunched over his desk obviously involved with the day’s business. He glanced up and growled, “What do you want, Gui-lian?”

I appeared subservient and said, “Thank you for taking the time to see me, Mr. Chang.”

Big Chang laid down his pen in disgust and impatiently asked, “Well?”

I spoke in my most subdued voice, “Mr. Chang, as you know, the cost of living goes up constantly, and I find your most generous stipend does not quite cover my living expenses. Is there a way you could increase the amount, so I can pay my bills on time?”

Big Chang’s face went white, then red. His anger overwhelmed his modicum of decorum, and he stepped around the desk with the intention of striking me across the face. At the last possible instant, I evaded the well-telegraphed blow, wrenched the dagger from my purse, and lunged for his heart.

Big Chang was a large, strong man. I am of average size and strength for a Chinese woman. Additionally, I had no experience with physical combat and the use of weapons. The tip of the blade struck Chang Dong-hue on the breastbone as intended but with little force. The dagger barely penetrated his tie and shirt and caused nothing more than a scratch.

Big Chang immediately ripped the blade from my hand and grabbed me by the throat with his other hand. Then he dropped the knife and placed both large, strong hands around my thin neck. Rage consumed him. I realized my plan had gone terribly wrong. His distorted face filled my vision until the blackness settled over my thoughts, and then, there was nothing.

*****

Forty

“For life be, after all, only a waitin’ for somethin’ else than what we’re doin’, and death be all that we can rightly depend on.”

Bram Stoker

Big Chang

16 July 2007

Immersed in the moment of rage, I closed my eyes and continued to squeeze. Finally, my anger moderated to a degree, and I released my grip on Feng Gui-lian’s throat. She slumped to the floor, her eyes staring into space and seeing nothing.

As my emotions gradually subsided, the veracity of my action began to surface. I began dealing with the reality of what had occurred. First things first. Someone would need to remove and dispose of the corpse. A security team and a fishing boat could take care of that. However, that was the least of my worries. It occurred to me I no longer had any advantage over the Brown Recluse. Jian-mei despised me, and she was a killing machine. I had no doubt both my life and that of Wen-biao would be of short duration, unless I took steps to neutralize her. Since Jian-mei was unaware that her mother was dead, she would not expect danger from her own camp. Wen-biao must not put himself in harm’s way to the extent of trying to eliminate Jian-mei. I have Chan Ya-gong in place, and he is almost as good as Jian-mei.

It was time to clean up the mess. I raised the phone to my ear, and Lili-kue answered immediately. “Yes, Mr. Chang.”

I spoke in a moderate tone, “Send up Meng immediately. You take the rest of the day off, and report to work tomorrow.”

“Yes, Mr. Chang,” answered Lili-kue in a trembling voice.

Meng soon knocked on my door and entered. His eyes widened when he saw Feng Gui-lian on the floor. He queried, “Yes, Mr. Chang.”

I pointed at the body of Gui-lian and said, “Get a team. Dispose of this carrion in the South China Sea. Clean this room and her apartment, thoroughly. Leave no traces. Wipe the surveillance cameras clean. When you finish, call me on my cell phone. I will not be back today.”

I left the office and took the elevator up one floor to my apartment. I dialed Wen-biao’s room at the Hotel de Paris in Monte Carlo. There was no answer. I swore. I tried Chan Ya-gong's room with the same result. I periodically attempted to reach my son throughout the night, but to no avail. Finally, he called, and I gave him his instructions. It only remains for Chan Ya-gong to overcome Jian-mei. The other two should present no problems.

* * *

The next morning, I sat at my desk behind a closed door when Kim Lili-kue returned to work at her usual time. Not more than fifteen minutes passed when she knocked on my door and entered. She said, "Mr. Hao is here to see you, Mr. Chang."

I had not expected Hao quite this early, in fact, because of the state of affairs, I had forgotten about the meeting. I said, "Send him in, and bring some tea, Kim Lili-kue."

She answered in a shaky voice, "Yes, Sir. At once, Sir."

I am no fool. My ascent to the top of the criminal world of Macau, and the effort it took for me to stay, was rife with danger and intrigue. I never knew when a person who sat in my office was an assassin. I had no idea as to what length the renegades would go to erase their involvement with the stolen merchandise. It could reach so far as to eradicate me as well.

To be on the safe side, I opened a desk drawer, which contained an automatic handgun. I rested my hand on the weapon and prepared for any eventuality. I held a sheaf of papers in my other hand to divert attention when Hao entered the room.

Hao wasted no time. He exclaimed, "My superiors send their greetings, Mr. Chang. I hope this day finds you in good spirits."

I rejoined, "This day finds me troubled, Mr. Hao. I am not in the habit of encountering so many difficulties with a simple business arrangement. I hope our friends do not believe this is the way I normally do business."

Hao sat back in his chair and appeared relaxed. "On the contrary, Mr. Chang, our associates do not blame you for any of the problems. The Iranians are the culprits, and they will pay a price before this is over. My superiors have prepared some final instructions for the conclusion of this agreement and the outline of another way we can do some business. I would like to present their ideas to you at this time."

Hao Chun-Gong removed a sheaf of papers from his attaché case and handed them to me. I had little choice but to lay down the papers I held and accept the one’s Hao handed me. In order to straighten the sheaf of papers, I removed my hand from the weapon. As soon as I did so, Hao lunged toward me and stabbed a syringe into my neck. I dropped the papers and grabbed my own weapon. I fired two shots into Hao’s chest just before my vision of the room began to fade.

*****

Kim Lili-kue heard the shots. Not knowing what to expect, she remained in the kitchen area. Meng, the head of security, dashed into Big Chang's office with his weapon drawn. He expertly evaluated the scene, checked both men for a pulse, and sought out Kim Lili-kue. All Chang Limited personnel were accustomed to taking orders from Kim, since they knew her words were Big Chang's words. She assessed the situation and instructed Meng in her usual non-threatening manner to call the local authorities, since a man of Big Chang's local infamy could not just disappear. Meng did as Lili-kue instructed and set a precedent for the future of the Macau crime cartel.

*****

After Kim Lili-kue told and retold her story to the police over a period of several hours, they released her from custody. She went back to the Chang Limited office and began calling Big Chang's lieutenants, informing them of his death and requesting that until Chang Wen-biao returned home, they conduct business as usual. Since they all feared Wen-biao even more than Big Chang, no questions arose. She dialed Chang Wen-biao on the satellite phone, but he didn’t answer. Then, as an afterthought, she rang Feng Jian-mei and she did.

Forty-one

“My daughter, there are times of moral danger when the hardest virtuous resolution to form is flight, and when the most heroic bravely is flight.”

Charles Dickens

Cloud

16 July 2007

The sexually spent Chang Wen-biao followed me with his eyes, as I shamelessly strolled over and stood naked at the window of his suite. I gazed out over the Mediterranean and attendant colorful bits that made up the montage. He viewed my thick auburn hair, my still tight derriere, but could only imagine my full breasts hidden from view. He spoke, “How would you like to drive down to Cannes and go to the beach?”

Wen-biao’s motives were immediately apparent to me, but once again, it made no difference. I needed to stay close to him if I was to serve in the capacity inspired by Billy Ray. Truthfully, the tall Chinese was not bad in the sack albeit a bit rough at times. I responded, “Why not?”

“Let’s have a bit of breakfast; then you can go get whatever you need for the beach. I will pick you up at the Hermitage.” He sprang out of bed, called room service, and ordered.

I slipped into my clothes from the previous evening and put on a hint of makeup. I joined Wen-biao for a leisurely meal, enjoying the food and conversation. Every time Wen-biao opened his mouth to speak, I listened for some nugget of information pertaining to the ongoing operation, but I felt the whole of his verbal indiscretions amounted to little. It became apparent Wen-biao did not know or care much about this transaction. His thoughts were of a more earthy nature.

After breakfast, I passionately kissed Wen-biao, and returned to the Hotel Hermitage. Upon arrival, I went to my room and called Billy Ray. He did not answer. Having little time, I jotted down the small amount of information I had gleaned from Wen-biao and sent it to Billy Ray’s room via bellhop. I showered and dressed for the day in a string bikini covered by brief shorts and a bare midriff top. I added a summer dress and a change of lingerie to a bag in case of need.

I struck a pose and admired myself in the large mirror and thought. Wen-biao seems content with the way the deal is progressing. Obviously, he will not allow business to interfere with his enjoyment of the French Riviera. He is not such a bad dude, but I have only seen his good side.

After I finished packing for the trip to the beach, the phone rang. It was Wen-biao. “Are you ready to astonish the natives?”

“Sure. I’ll be right down.” I replied.

Wen-biao answered, “I will be at the front of the hotel in a dark blue Bentley.”

I knew how to keep his interest alive. I murmured, “A Bentley you say.” Then I hung up, sneered, and strode out of my room.

I drew the eyes of everyone in the lobby, as I passed through. I sighted the Bentley immediately, and Wen-biao sat proudly at the wheel. Chan Ya-gong was in the back seat. An attendant held the car door as I climbed into the passenger seat. Wen-biao enjoyed leaving a bit of rubber as he pulled away. He drove up the Boulevard de Suisse until we reached Boulevard de Rainier III, then he drove smartly in the direction of Nice.

Wen-biao turned and watched me stare out the car window at the splendid panoramas. I held my long tresses against the breeze, but I was not the least bit put out by the open windows. In fact, I enjoyed the wind.

Sure, I have seen my best days, but I was still a showstopper with a flawless body. He could not wait to get to the beach and witness the reaction of the crowds when I went topless, as I surely would.

Wen-biao guided the Bentley through Nice and then we sped toward Cannes. It was difficult to ascertain when we passed from one Riviera City to the next. It the coast was one big yacht basin and one endless beach. In Cannes, different colored umbrellas divided the beach into sections. Wen-biao chose one with a diving platform. He wanted to show off a bit himself.

He was a handsome man in his own right. He was tall for a Chinese. He had informed me his father was even taller. At six, four with broad shoulders, narrow hips, and short black hair, he cut an imposing figure. However, he attracted scant notice as the two of us made our way to the selected spot near the water. Even in my shorts, top, and surrounded by scantily clad, young beauties, I drew admiring stares as a magnet draws iron filings. The beach people watched our every move as we spread a large beach towel. I placed a straw container of wine and cheese in the center. Chan Ya-gong melted into the environment.

The show must go on. Wen-biao made his way to the water and performed a running dive into the surf. He swam his way to the platform using a perfected crawl stroke.

I easily trumped his move by removing my shorts and showing off my tiny string bikini. Next, off came the top leaving my breasts covered only by a miniscule bikini top. I strode to the water and waded out to about waist deep. I splashed water over my shoulders and arms. Then, I casually removed my bikini top. This section of the beach became quiet. All eyes followed, as I walked calmly back to the blanket for some sunning.

Wen-biao watched the spectacle from the diving platform. He was just as spellbound as the rest of the onlookers. He watched, as I sat on the towel and began spreading sun block over my body. He decided I might need some help and dove into the water. A self-congratulatory grin spread across his face, as he walked from the sea and approached me. He sat in the sand, took the sun block, and began spreading the lotion over my body.

We lounged on the beach, until we both became thirsty. I opened the bottle of wine, poured it into plastic cups, and began cutting slices of local cheese. French bread made up the remainder of the mini-feast, and we both ate with satisfaction. When we finished, Wen-biao, having exhausted this portion of the drama, suggested we drive inland to the medieval village of St. Paul de Vance and stay for the night. I thought that was a fine idea.

There did not appear to be a straight road anywhere in the South of France. Since none of us knew the area, frequent looks at the map became necessary. Finally, the ancient walled village came into view perched atop a miniature mountain. Wen-biao maneuvered the large Bentley through the narrow streets until a parking area appeared just below an outdoor restaurant.

Not knowing where the hotel was located, we parked and went in search of coffee and a brochure of the city. The history of St. Paul de Vance was one of people striving to survive the ravages of living in medieval times with all of the attendant dangers and strife. Retaining one’s meager possessions was not a given. Having enough to eat was not always possible. Enduring was an ongoing effort, and just when a town full of people felt secure, aggressors arrived and took what they had, often times, including their lives. The only available answer during those turbulent times was to make it as difficult as possible for the invaders to be successful.

One solution was to build villages on the tops of mountains and surround them with high walls. Invaders could eventually starve the occupants into submission, but most would bypass the village fortresses for easier prey.

St. Paul de Vance was such a village, but in the present time, invaders in the form of tourists were welcomed up the narrow road to the sparkling shops, divine eating establishments, and a cozy hotel. Guests could wander the narrow passageways up and down the ancient stone steps from one artistic delight to the next. The almost constant brilliant sunlight faded the roof tiles from their original red to a dark orange. Small windows covered with wooden shutters or iron bars opened up into passageways crammed with large potted plants containing blooms of many colors. Vines hung from the tinted walls and arched doorways. Vineyards, ornate villas, tall, narrow evergreen trees filled the vistas from every available vantage point. One could dine in the pleasant air, drink fine wine, and soak up the splendor of southern France at its most alluring.

Language was a matter of hit and miss. I always believed French people preferred visitors to at least attempt to use their language. I addressed everyone as Monsieur, Madam, or Mademoiselle according to his or her sex, age, and whether or not, I saw a wedding ring. The subterfuge appeared to work since my clumsy attempts at French with a Texas accent, together with my appearance, brought a smile to male and female alike. Soon, a local woman directed the three of us to the hotel, where we entered and secured rooms. The absence of luggage appeared to offend no one.

We found that our room was small but with luxurious amenities. I felt no embarrassment, as I began shedding garments, knowing what was on Wen-biao’s mind. He matched my pace and within a minute, we joined in an embrace on the comfortable bed.

After an energetic interlude, we showered, changed our clothes, and went out to examine the village. The streets were little more than narrow passageways, but they contained a mélange of beautiful shops filled with superb objects d’art. Wen-biao purchased local billed caps for each of us. He insisted we wear them backwards with the bill behind and slightly askew in the gangsta fashion. We both broke out in genuine laughter, as we modeled our new headwear. Finally, we reached the zenith of the village and settled in for a dinner of wine and fish at an outdoor table. After we finished the second bottle of wine, we slowly made our way back to the hotel and to our rooms. We fell across the bed and relaxed for a moment. Soon, we both fell asleep, only to awaken the next morning faced with the harsh realities of our respective worlds.

*****

Forty-two

All other swindlers upon earth are nothing to the self-swindlers, and with such pretences did I cheat myself.

Charles Dickens

Wen-biao

17 July 2007

I cleared my head from sleep and slipped out of bed slowly, so as not to wake the sleeping Cloud, and quickly dressed. I left the room and made my way to the Bentley parked outside the village walls. I extracted the phone from the trunk and dialed Macau. My father came on the line and asked, "Are you alone?"

Immediately alert, I answered, "Sure, Pops. I'm alone."

Chang Dong-hue growled back, "Good. Listen carefully. There are developments that you must act on immediately. Feng Gui-lian attacked me, and I killed her. Feng Jian-mei is not aware that her mother is dead. I do not, I repeat, I do not want you to take any action against Feng Jian-mei. She is far too dangerous. For your information, she is the Brown Recluse. Assign Ya-gong to do the job on both her and Billy Ray." Big Chang cleared his throat and continued, "The tanker is well on its way to India. The sale of the crude is set. Since a dead hillbilly can’t impede the progress of the tanker, there is no more need for him and his whore to remain alive. Have Ya-gong take care of them both right away. Billy Ray must go first. After you conclude these matters, return to Macau. Our friends on the mainland are getting edgy and may soon leave China. Their man will deliver our final instructions today. Are you up to this, Wen-biao?"

I was excited by the prospects and said, "Yes, Pops. I will take care of things here and get on the plane."

I disconnected the phone and went to Ya-gong's room. He opened the door at my knock. "The fun begins. When we get back to Monte Carlo, we take out Billy Ray, Cloud, and, get this, Jian-mei. Pops is no longer protecting her. He told me she is the Brown Recluse. It’s no wonder she kicked my ass every time I tried to teach her a lesson."

I strutted around for a bit, feeling good, and then continued, "Cloud will be no problem. We can take care of her after we return to Monte Carlo. Neither Billy Ray nor Jian-mei is aware they are marked for death, so you will have the element of surprise. She is by far the more dangerous, so you must work quickly and carefully. Take no chances with her. If you give her any opportunity, she will kill you with ease.”

The hulking Chan Ya-gong answered in a robotic voice, “Yes, Wen-biao.”

*****

Forty-three

“I think that you know me well enough, Watson, to understand that I am by no means a nervous man. At the same time, it is stupidity rather than courage to refuse to recognize danger when it is close upon you.”

Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

Cloud

17 July 2007

When Wen-biao left the room, the sound of the door closing ended my sleep. I rose, showered quickly, and slipped on the dress I had brought. While I waited for him to return, I decided to call Billy Ray to see if there was any change of plans. He answered immediately.

I said, "Good morning. Is everything okay?"

At first, Billy Ray was shocked and speechless. When he regained his tongue and spoke quickly, "Oh my God, Cloud. Listen carefully. Where is Wen-biao?"

I was brushing my hair, while I spoke on the phone. I became more attentive and exclaimed, "He must have stepped out for a minute. Why do you ask?"

Billy Ray spoke in a shaky voice, "You and I are now expendable. They are planning to kill us both very soon. Grab your purse and run. Do not ask any questions. Just run."

"I'm running." I dropped the phone and grabbed my purse. I peeked outside the door, saw no one, and made a dash for the stairs. I ran downstairs and spotted an exit on the ground floor of the stairwell. When I opened the door, I found myself in an alley. I took a quick look and walked out to the street, only to see Wen-biao and Ya-gong approaching. I ducked back into the alley and tried to open the exit door only to find it locked. A small dumpster sat next to the door, and I moved behind it, just as Wen-biao and Ya-gong passed the entrance to the alley. After a short wait, I crept back to the alley entrance, peered around the corner, but saw no sign of either man. I knew the opportunity would not last, so I hastened down the street and entered a shop. A middle-aged Frenchman with a quizzical look on his face stood behind the counter. Having no other options, I approached him and went through the song and dance of establishing a language. Then I asked, "Is it possible to hire transportation to Monte Carlo on short notice?"

The shop owner came to a rapid deduction and decided I must be in a social bind, and needed his help. Besides, I likely had money. "Mademoiselle, my cousin is on his way to Monte Carlo this very morning. Would you care to ride with him?"

I smiled my brightest and answered, "I would be delighted to ride with your cousin. It is highly embarrassing, but my traveling companion has become intolerable, and I must fend for myself. He is a tall Chinese man, and I would appreciate not ever having to see his face again."

The Frenchman smelled a bit of profit in addition to helping a damsel in distress. "Of course, Mademoiselle. Please feel free to wait in my office. I will contact my cousin, who will be more than happy to transport you to Monte Carlo for a token price of, say, four hundred Euros?"

I would have agreed to a thousand, so I said, "That is more than reasonable, Monsieur. I am in your debt." I followed the owner to the back of the shop and into a small office. I seated myself with my eyes glued to the front door.

After about fifteen minutes, the owner ushered me out the back door, into another alley, and into the passenger seat of a late model Peugeot. The driver's name was Jacque. I ducked down in the seat, until he told me the way was clear. Then he proceeded to chat cordially, while we moved down the twisting road. I looked out the back window but saw no sign of Wen-biao's Bentley. Then, I borrowed Jacque's cell phone, called Billy Ray, and informed him I had made my escape.

Billy Ray was in an advanced state of apprehension. "Cloud, don't even think of coming back here. Get your ass out to the Nice airport and on a plane to New York. I will arrange for some traveling cash to be ready for you when you get there. Use the Bank of America. I will contact you in New York just as soon as I can arrange it. If we have any kind of luck, you are now a wealthy woman. Any questions?"

I voiced my concern for Billy Ray, "Just one! What about you?"

Billy Ray said, "I have help. Lots of help! I will explain it all, when I get back to the States. Just be careful."

I informed Jacque of the change of plans. Since the Nice airport is on the way to Monte Carlo, he was unconcerned with the adjustment. However, a worry nagged at my consciousness. This is a bit out of Billy Ray's league. He could get his sorry butt killed.

*****

Forty-four

“For life be, after all, only a waitin’ for somethin’ else than what we’re doin’, and death be all that we can rightly depend on.”

Bram Stoker

Big Chang

16 July 2007

It was time to clean up the mess. I raised the phone to my ear, and Lili-kue answered immediately. “Yes, Mr. Chang.”

I spoke in a moderate tone, “Send up Meng immediately. You take the rest of the day off, and report to work tomorrow.”

“Yes, Mr. Chang,” answered Lili-kue in a trembling voice.

Meng soon knocked on my door and entered. His eyes widened when he saw Feng Gui-lian on the floor. He queried, “Yes, Mr. Chang.”

*****

I had not expected Hao quite this early, in fact, because of the state of affairs, I had forgotten about the meeting. I said, "Send him in, and bring some tea, Kim Lili-kue."

She answered in a shaky voice, "Yes, Sir. At once, Sir."

Hao wasted no time. He exclaimed, "My superiors send their greetings, Mr. Chang. I hope this day finds you in good spirits."

Hao Chun-Gong removed a sheaf of papers from his attaché case and handed them to me. I had little choice but to lay down the papers I held and accept the ones Hao handed me. In order to straighten the sheaf of papers, I removed my hand from the weapon. As soon as I did so, Hao lunged toward me and stabbed a syringe into my neck. I dropped the papers and grabbed my own weapon. I fired two shots into Hao’s chest just before my vision of the room began to fade.

*****

Forty-five

“Death must be so beautiful. To lie in the soft brown earth with the grasses waving above one’s head, and listen to the silence. To have no yesterday, and no to-morrow. To forget time, to forgive life, to be at peace.”

Oscar Wilde

Jian-mei

17 July 2007

It was late in the afternoon, when I responded to the shrieking phone. Hearing Lili-kue on the other end of the connection surprised me. She shocked me even more, when her voice faltered. She is the essence of stability and control. She began once more, "Dear Jian-mei, there is dreadful news. Your beloved mother is gone. She attempted to kill Chang Dong-hue, and he overpowered her. She did not survive.”

When I was unable to respond, she continued. “Please, you must never come back to Macau. You have nothing here. Wen-biao will make your life miserable."

My throat constricted, and I slipped to the floor, barely able to hold the phone. I still could not respond.

"Also, Jian-mei, for reasons I do not understand, the renegades from BeiPan sent their man to kill Chang Dong-hue, and they succeeded. I am unable to reach Wen-biao by phone. Will you tell him his father is dead?"

Finally, I found the control needed to respond. "Lili-kue, I am in your debt for bringing me the news of my precious mother's death."

I paused to gather my composure. "You may already know this, Kim Lili-kue, but Chang Dong-hue is my father. I recently learned this from my mother. While I spent the bulk of my life loathing the man, I regret not having the opportunity to face him and demand an explanation of why he tortured his own flesh and blood the way he did me."

Kim Lili-kue interrupted and said, "He never could have explained himself, Jian-mei. Sending you away to school in Europe was a token show of affection. He said on many occasions, he wished you were a man. It is difficult for a person with no soul to clarify his actions. Please try to grow beyond your past life and find another."

I remained silent for a moment. "You are a good friend, Kim Lili-kue. I will never forget the acts of kindness you have shown me through the years. Now I must find Wen-biao."

I rose from the floor and began withdrawing from the secular world. My senses became extraordinarily acute, as they did when a battle loomed. I honed my focus to a fine edge, and took on the qualities of the Brown Recluse. I made my way to the room of Chang Wen-biao, not knowing what would transpire.

Wen-biao opened the door. I pushed passed him and entered the room. “I have an important message for you.”

Wen-biao appeared shocked to see me. If I hadn’t known better, I would have sworn that I saw fear in his eyes. He began speaking in a rambling manner, "Pops told me to take out Billy Ray and the whore right away. Somehow, she got away while we were on the Riviera. She must know we are out to get them both. What are you going to do about this?"

I faced my half-brother. "Wen-biao, my mother is dead."

Wen-biao’s already inadequate patience departed. "Do you think I care about your mother, living or dead? We have real problems here. You need to get your ass in gear."

I continued, "My father is also dead."

Wen-biao’s hands tightened into fists. "Are you insane,” he shrieked? Why are we having this soap opera conversation? I didn't know you had a father."

I weighed my next statement carefully before speaking, "Your father and my father are the same man, Chang Wen-biao."

Wen-biao appeared stunned. "Now I know you’re crazy. I talked to Pops this morning. He didn't say anything about your mother being dead, and he was very much alive. He sure as hell didn’t say anything about being your father."

I was beginning to lose my own tolerance. "He is not alive now, Wen-biao. He is dead. The renegades from the mainland sent a man to kill him, but not before he killed my mother."

Wen-biao was so confused from the impact of this monumental information that he made a lethal mistake. He surrendered to his rage. In a fit of uncontrolled fury, he launched himself at me only to trip over a chair. He crashed to the floor, but immediately sprang to his feet and grabbed me by the throat. His powerful hands closed around my throat. Having practiced and used escape techniques from such situations for decades, I kneed him in the groin, crashed my head into his nose, and jerked out of his grasp.

By this time, I was in a killing frenzy. I mounted a series of kicks not meant to do great damage but to incapacitate. Soon, Wen-biao was at my mercy, but I had none to give. His flying arms knocked a lamp from its table, and sent it crashing to the dark red carpet. I proceeded to wreak havoc on Wen-biao's body with a series of devastating kicks and blows. I didn’t really know when he lost consciousness or when his spirit left this dimension. When he stopped moving, I ceased my attack.

Still enraged beyond reason, a thought emerged from the dark recesses of my mind. He is my blood. For some unexplained reason, I brushed his brow with my calloused hand and departed the room.

Leaving through a side door of the hotel, I ignored the attendant and his stilted greeting. Thoughts of my mother, father, brother, future, past, and Billy Ray Calhoun jumbled into a morass of momentary insanity, overpowering any semblance of reason or logic that remained. I didn’t know where I was or where I was going, and I didn’t care.

A fine mist fell on Port Hercule as the sun passed below the horizon. My blouse, soon soaked from the falling mist, was partially untucked. I lurched down the Avenue de Monte Carlo toward the yacht basin, oblivious to the rain, the traffic, and the other pedestrians. I moved as if in a trance, my eyes seeing but not registering.

The impact of the events of the last few hours had virtually crushed the portion of my psyche dealing with reason. Both my natural and contrived defense mechanisms could not offset the trauma. The teachings of my ruthless master faded away. No longer could I find a place in my psyche where I could hide and block out the hideous. I reacted with my suppressed human feelings, and the sense of horror mounted.

The loss of my devoted mother had finally toppled the protective walls of my emotions. The death of Chang Dong-hue, the Great Satan of my existence, provided no sense of revenge or closure. Not even the brutal killing of Chang Wen-biao provided solace. For reasons I could not comprehend, the passing of my father and brother only added to my crushing burdens.

Logic told me for the sake of my future safety and that of Billy Ray, Wen-biao had to die. My half-brother was a brutal, vindictive excuse for a human being, and he had always treated me with contempt and cruelty during our entire lives together.

As my confused thoughts reeled back and forth, I was compelled to face the reality of my prior existence. I absorbed the responsibility of my acts as if they were my own, and they were. During my bloody career, I stamped out life with no remorse. When I performed those heinous acts, they had no meaning for me. I wasn't able, nor did I desire to dwell on the consequences, the pain, or feel the suffering of those left. The fact that most of them were cruel people deserving of punishment did little to lessen the pain. It was as if I was visiting a cemetery. The ghosts passed in review.

I swayed down the Avenue D'Ostende and on to the Avenue President Kennedy. I stopped behind a yacht named Pearl, and leaned against the wall. I paid no heed to those around me, but I finally noticed Billy Ray following at a distance, stopping when I stopped, moving when I moved.

My tears were uncontrollable and freely flowing. I could not conjure a safe haven. There was nothing for me in Asia. The only remaining beacon was Billy Ray, and I didn’t know why. I only knew that I experienced both mental and physical urges in his presence that had eluded me my entire life. I asked myself, What is he thinking? How does he feel? Will he help me? Please, I need someone to help me.

By this time, the rain had stopped, and a full moon peeked from behind moving clouds. Billy Ray still observed me from a distance, giving me space to make my choices.

I stayed where I was for several minutes, not trusting my composure. Eventually, I noticed I was wet and cold. I turned and moved slowly toward Billy Ray, and when I reached him, I took his hand. The tears came again, but they were tears of liberation. I knew the Brown Recluse would not die easily or perhaps at all, but my human side had begun a slow resurgence.

*****

Forty-six

Sin has many tools, but a lie is the handle which fits them all.

Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr.

Billy Ray

18 July 2007

Brigitte, or whatever her name turns out to be, called my room this morning and asked for a short meeting. Jian-mei was sleeping soundly after her ordeal of the past few days. I did not disturb her, but left her a note explaining my whereabouts.

I soon met up with Brigitte, and we strolled toward the yacht basin. Vessels, large and small, colored the waters of the bay, as the warm, bright sun revealed the Mediterranean in its unique beauty. We were both lost in our thoughts, as we walked, but then I broke the peaceful interlude. "So, how are things in China?"

The question caught her off guard. She did not answer immediately, as she processed the question. Then she answered, "There are some aspects of the China situation I cannot share, but the gentlemen who were in business with Big Chang are out of circulation. As is usually the case in totalitarian regimes, they simply disappeared. Our sources tell us one member of the clique, General Ping Mu-yao, escaped to parts unknown. He is a very resourceful and dangerous man, but be assured, the Chinese are looking for him with far more enthusiasm than is Israel. I brought a photo of him, so you will at least have a chance to recognize him should he surface, but it would make good sense for him to have his face altered. Besides, I suspect his anger is directed more toward the Iranians than at you and Jian-mei."

I removed my light jacket and draped it over my arm. "The oil is out of enemy hands and is on its way to India. Big Chang is dead. Wen-biao is dead. The renegade Chinese are out of action. I don't know anything about the merchandise being traded to the Iranians, but I must assume you have that under control."

She did not appear eager to add to my store of knowledge concerning this issue, but, apparently, decided a modicum of information was appropriate. She said, "As a matter of fact, the merchandise is currently resting in a safe place in the Negev desert. Together with you, Jian-mei, and Cloud, we averted a world-shattering crisis. We are grateful for your participation and cooperation in the matter. However, you might be more careful in the future, when you choose your business partners."

I smiled at the advice and probed for closure, "Well, Brigitte, as we say in East Texas, we can stick a fork in this deal because it's done. Israel came out a big winner, China came out a winner, and Iran lost a drop or two of oil. You get the merchandise, and I get the oil. Sounds like a win-win to me.” Brigitte’s countenance darkened somewhat, but she said nothing.

“Jian-mei is going to throw in with me for a while. Of course, she has some baggage to work through, but she is a strong woman. I see her coming out of this okay with a little time and tender loving care."

Brigitte patted my shoulder. "She is in good hands, Billy Ray. I know. I have been in those hands myself. However, there is one more insignificant issue to discuss.”

For the life of me, I couldn’t think of what that might be. "What issue? I don't know of any other serious matters to discuss."

She exuded a more serious demeanor and said, "The money, Billy Ray. The money! There is a tanker cruising toward Israel with a fortune in oil on board. It doesn’t belong to anyone. Well, that is not quite true. Israel has been out a lot of money, time, and effort during this operation, and now it is time to recoup some of our losses."

In a state of shock, I answered, and “I understand what you are saying. I have a stake in that oil myself. I stuck my neck way out to handle this matter. I worked with you. I made the arrangements. I have people to pay off such as Hong Bin-Zhuo and Al Peshier. I owe the Indian petroleum agents. I owe Cloud.”

Brigitte let out her breath as if speaking to a child, then said, "Billy Ray, you and I are going to sit down on this bench coming up and work out an equitable arrangement suitable for both you and Israel. Do you think bodies in hotel rooms just fade into the woodwork?"

I felt sick. “Okay. What do you have in mind?”

Brigitte appeared more relaxed. She leaned toward me and said, “Big Al will receive his regular pay for transporting the oil, plus a nice bonus for the inconvenience. Let’s say, two million in total. Do you think he will go for that?”

I didn’t have to do much thinking. “Big Al will be more than happy to perform this service for the people of Israel. Now what about me?”

Brigitte smiled briefly. “We take care of our friends and realize that you will share any compensation with Cloud and Jian-mei. We figure five million should ease the pain and suffering you have endured. How does that sound?”

I was silent for a moment, as I considered the two hundred thousand barrels Big Al offloaded early in the trip. Then I said, “I was hoping for something in the neighborhood of fifty million.”

Brigitte quickly retorted, “I was hoping to be a movie star, but things don’t always work out. We will settle with you for seven million.”

I stared off into space for a moment, and then I decided to give the old envelope a slight push. “For the sake of argument, suppose Big Al and I had decided to keep the oil. I could easily have found a buyer. If the Israeli commandoes came near the boat, we could say they were attempting to steal the tanker and the oil. What would happen then?”

Brigitte’s expression darkened. “I would be very sad to lose such a dear friend, since you would be spending a very long time in a United States federal prison for conspiring to put nuclear weapons in the hands of Iran. That is only if you were very lucky. Another scenario would be to live the rest of your life expecting an Israeli assassin, and yes, there would be one eventually. This is the big leagues, Billy Ray. Please. Don’t even go there.”

“My thinking exactly,” I laughed. “Just a little gallows humor. I handed her my card with the account number scrawled on the back and said, “Here is my numbered account in Geneva. I appreciate any contributions.”

"Done," said Brigitte. "Let's go get some lunch. It's on me." She playfully pinched my butt and forced a smile. “If you are a really nice man, I might tell you my real name one of these days.”

I responded, "What makes you think I want to know your real name?” After a few more steps, I added, “You really wouldn't have had me killed. Would you?"

Brigitte laughed and popped me on the shoulder. "I would have you killed in a New York minute, Billy Ray! In a New York minute!"

"Liar," I answered. I put my arm around her shoulders, as we sauntered down the boulevard.

*****

Forty-seven

“Circumstances may accumulate so strongly even against an innocent man, that directed, sharpened, and pointed, they may slay him.”

Charles Dickens

Pan Wei-song

21 July 2007

To use a western expression, I can see light at the end of the tunnel. My duties to the military are nearly over, after which I can return to my journals, my wife, and our son.

I recall the day General Ping assigned me to this project. The orders stated I was to program a Dong Hai 11 cruise missile to a specific target in Tehran. Since I had joined the missile team at the beginning of the project and provided years of expertise for the development of the Dong Hai 11, no one would be better qualified to prepare the weapon for its final destination than I would.

General Ping’s orders were clear. If I received a visit from Major Lee Pan-kie, and he presented the Charging Tiger letter signed by the General, I was to expedite the launch as quickly as possible. Since I knew the destination of the destructive payload, I was shocked when Major Lee arrived and handed me the letter from General Ping. Charging Tiger was a go. The implications of such an act on the world dynamic were enormous.

All aspects of the assignment were ready. I had arranged to hide the aircraft and its payload in an abandoned hanger on a little used military airfield in Northwest China. Security issues forced the pilot and me to stay on site for the duration of the project. It took only a brief time to fuel the PRC Q 5 fighter-bomber, taxi onto the deserted runway, and perform a final systems check. Afterwards, the pilot pushed the throttle forward, and the MIG 19 clone rushed down the runway and lifted into the air.

I sat in the navigator’s seat. There was little for either of us to do, since I had previously programmed the flight pattern.

“All systems are green. The aircraft is on autopilot, Colonel Pan,” said the pilot in a stilted voice.

The first leg of the journey took us over the treacherous mountains of Tajikistan and Uzbekistan. Then the terrain flattened out into arid and semi-arid deserts. It was at this point that the Q5 dropped the auxiliary tanks, hugged the ground and avoided population centers. I wasn’t comfortable flying at such a low altitude.

As the Caspian Sea loomed ahead, I made a final check of the systems. Actually, there was nothing for me to do on the final phase of the mission. The pilot would actually fire the missile. As the Q5 passed over the coastline at a low altitude, an elusive thought tugged at the corners of my mind, but it became lost in the excitement of the final stages of the mission.

"Five minutes to launch. All systems green," said the pilot. My eyes locked on the console, and I followed the thoughts of the pilot. My mission would be over within seconds.

The pilot spoke again. "10 seconds to launch and counting, nine, eight."

Then, the lurking thought broke through the surface of my consciousness. Why am I here? I really have nothing to do here. Then another, more deadly thought occurred to me. We will not return. Just as I heard the pilot utter "launch," I screamed into the microphone. "Wait, wait, don't launch the missile."

*****

As the Dong Hai 11 passed from view, a pre-set mechanism triggered the plastic explosives on board, and the aircraft became a fireball.

The cruise missile's guidance system functioned perfectly, as it streaked at a low altitude toward its target. The objective was a building appearing to be a high-rise apartment structure in Southeast Tehran. In fact, the edifice, surrounded by real apartment buildings, was the center for the development of Iran's nuclear program. The cruise missile exploded near the bottom of the construction. Soon, the intense heat caused the steel supports to give way, and the building collapsed on itself, burying the extensive underground facilities under a mountain of rubble.

The purpose of the lethal attack was purely malicious. Ping and his associates believed that since the Iranians cheated the Chinese trio by misrepresenting the quality and quantity of the oil involved with the trade, payback was in order. A few individuals in Tehran would understand the gesture, and that was enough for the Cultural Revolution survivor.

When General Ping received the news of a mysterious explosion in a Tehran neighborhood, he gloated with glee and treated himself to a bottle of rice wine.

*****

Forty-eight

We said there warn’t no home like a raft, after all. Other places do seem so cramped up and smorthery, but a raft don’t. You feel mighty free and easy and comfortable on a raft.

Mark Twain

Billy Ray

8 April 2007

The months passed slowly as Jian-mei and I spent our time in a large, two-story log house. It sat on a bluff overlooking the Sulphur River in Northeast Texas. Just to be on the safe side and to fill the time, I equipped the former farmhouse with a surfeit of communications equipment for security, business, and pleasure. I also spent significant funds on electronic and human surveillance. Men from the area, whom I had known most of my life, made up the security personnel. I paid them well for twenty-four-hour protection, and they took the work very seriously. Since we were all old friends and spoke the same language, they often dropped by the house for refreshments and visitation after their tours of duty. They were always welcome.

Money was not a problem for us now. Mossad had come through with the funds from the sale of the Iranian oil. Big Al deposited my cut of the two hundred thousand barrels of mystery oil. Jian-mei brought in her accumulated wealth from the long years with Chang Enterprises, Limited, so I deflected most of the business opportunities that came my way.

During the fall and winter seasons, I had no heart for business. I spent my time focused on Jian-mei. Her journey back from the torment that was her previous life was a difficult road. Her progress and digressions resulted in both peaceful and horrific days. She spent much time alone in the deep forest. When she felt healthy, she played games with the plentiful deer population and learned to identify the colorful birds.

Some days Jian-mei would not let me out of her sight. She constantly touched me and looked into my soul seeking a safe haven. When I moved, she moved. When I sat in front of the computer monitor, she sat in a chair next to me touching me with her hand or foot. When I mentioned leaving the log house and returning to Houston, she would plead with me to stay on the river. Finally, I told her we would not leave Morris County until she desired to do so, and she was comforted.

On other days, Jian-mei suffered setbacks and attacked the aerobic machines to an unusual extent. She often punished her body to the point of exhaustion. During the worst of times, I found the heels of her hands and feet bloodied from striking trees. There were other times, when I found her staring at me as if she had never set eyes on me before. I learned from experience to refrain from reacting until she came back from the place where she journeyed.

Jian-mei spent weeks sharing her innermost secrets and most horrifying experiences with me. On one dark, rainy day, when the river ran out of its banks, she sat next to me and grasped my hands. “Ki Jin would push me physically until my body refused to continue, then he would poke and prod my body in the tender places. If I reacted, he would beat me with a cane.”

To speed her healing, I procured a snow-white Lhasa Apso puppy. She named it Gui, after her mother, and transferred some of her emotional needs from me to the puppy. The strong-willed canine immediately assumed a place in our bed, and we both had to sleep lightly for fear of crushing the tiny bundle of fur.

Gradually, Jian-mei lost emotional touch with Ki Jin, Big Chang and Wen-biao. She responded to Gui, the forest, the animals, and gradually returning feelings of security. After reaching the bottom of her emotional pit, she took the psychological version of my hand to help her rise up from the dark oblivion.

During these periods, Cloud visited several times, and when she was there, Jian-mei managed to control her demons to a greater degree. The two women shared a kindred spirit, but accepting Cloud as a family member took Jian-mei some time.

Jian-mei and I discussed Cloud's peace of mind regarding her everyday life and her dealings with me. She liked the New York lifestyle, needed it in fact, but required an emotional base as well. I would always fill that role and Jian-mei came to accept the fact. It was as if I had become more of a brother to Cloud after our many years together. The relationship had evolved and would evolve even more. Cloud needed the connection. I knew this, and even though Jian-mei had a large place in my existence, I needed the connection with Cloud as well. Cloud was as much a part of my life as anyone ever would be, only in a different way than in the past.

When I reflected on how close I had come to losing Cloud in Monte Carlo, I added a couple of million to the one million I initially intended to give her. Cloud was delighted with her three million dollar cut from our venture and, coupled with her business; she was doing very well financially. She responded to the windfall with the declaration that she was officially retired from any other scheme that might come to my mind.

One misty Sunday morning in October, the person I knew as Brigitte Jourdan came strolling down the path to the big log house. She had previously called and warned me of her impending visit. When she arrived, I welcomed her with a hug and kiss on the cheek. Brigitte approached Jian-mei, but she was having a troublesome day and hardly responded. The Mossad agent noticed the swollen hands and bandaged feet.

I poured Brigitte some coffee and asked her to be comfortable. Jian-mei sat alone at the window for a bit, staring out into the forest, then silently passed through the door and disappeared.

Brigitte asked, "Is she still dangerous?"

I considered my response, and then voiced it, "She will always be dangerous, considering her history. We are trying to work through her past. She is a brilliant woman but becomes an emotional child on some days. This is one of those days. Yesterday, she poured out her soul by reliving some of her horrible teen years. Today, she is paying the price for dredging up all of those memories. We are here for as long as she needs to be. It could be for the rest of our lives. Do you suppose this is what folks refer to as commitment?"

A smile played around the lips of the Israeli. She said, "Could be. I feel that if Jian-mei can survive this and live a near normal life, she can do it with you. So how is Cloud?"

My voice took on a pleasant tone, "Cloud is doing great. She can never leave New York for very long because of the life she has there. That is the only place where she does not view herself as poor white trash, and she is anything but. I love Cloud as much as ever, but even though our relationship has changed, it is no less important to either of us. When she can think straight, Jian-mei loves Cloud and views her as a family member."

Brigitte refilled her coffee cup. "I came by to bring you up to date and to tie up a few loose ends. The authorities in BeiPan arrested two of the renegade Chinese with a little help from us. The third one, the general, had already escaped. He has sufficient funds to operate when he feels safe to do so. I suspect he will lay low for a while, probably in a large western Chinese enclave somewhere, and then make his move. The head of our China desk tells me that letting sleeping dogs lie is not a part of Chinese philosophy, so we may all have to deal with the general in the future."

I frowned. "Thanks for the heads up. I am already security conscious, but will keep the general in mind."

A slight smile formed on Brigitte's face. "Oh, by the way, my boss wanted a cut, a rather large cut, of the extra 200,000 barrels of crude you sold in India, but I was able to talk him out of it. I convinced him Israel might need a friend in the oil business sometimes in the future."

"Barrels? What barrels?" I croaked.

Brigitte hit me on the shoulder. "You are bad. You are so bad. Didn't you think we did a little checking on that transaction? Of course, I knew good old Billy Ray would never try to pull the wool over anyone's eyes, but others in the organization were less trustworthy. There was the matter of the bill of laden. So you are busted but rich."

"I have no idea what you are talking about," but I could not keep a tiny grin from my face.

Brigitte spoke in a more serious manner, "Just for the record, my own life may be headed in a good direction. My one true love and yes, he was always and will continue to be my one true love, lost his wife recently. They have two young boys. Victor and I grew up together but took different paths due to circumstances. He operates a vineyard next to my father's in the Rhone Valley. If we find ourselves back together in the future, and it appears we might, I will give up the cloak and dagger life, the whoring around, and the constant danger, to help Victor rear his children. My father is getting on in years, so we might have to help with both vineyards. I guess what I am saying is should you find yourselves in the neighborhood of the Rhone Valley during the next few years, you will always be welcome."

I patted her hand. "You are very kind. Let me know for sure if you get back to France, and I can assure you of a visit if things go well here. You were instrumental in saving our lives, and I won't forget it. If you ever need old Billy Ray or even a few Euros to tide you over, you just give me a call."

Brigitte retrieved her coat, shook Billy Ray's hand, and strode out the door, not noticing the silent Feng Jian-mei in the next room. She had one more comment. “My name is Maryanne Passeron, in case you are interested. Ciao.”

The weeks and months passed with Jian-mei's personality excesses gradually smoothing out. She began doing organized work in the form of photographing and cataloguing birds and animals. She ran a spreadsheet on her personal finances, which had grown significantly for some strange reason. She told me Kim Lili-kue may have had something to do with it. Jian-mei had no real way of knowing.

She taught me the game of Go and beat me unmercifully. I did the same to her in chess. Her pique at losing led me to believe she was getting better.

We walked in the woods, ran in the woods, wrestled, made love, played hide and seek, took naps, and arm wrestled. Attempting to impose my superior strength and size netted me little. If I came too close to winning, she would resort to a martial arts move and upset the balance of power. The good days became the norm, and our existence moved to idyllic, which meant there was no reason to continue the lifestyle. It had served its purpose.

One sunny morning after chasing a familiar deer for over a mile, Jian-mei made her way back to the house. She always approached the current guard on his blind side and tapped him on the shoulder. The four men guarding the house had long since accepted that they could never sense her approach. They just grinned and waved as she passed. She ran up the steps and into the kitchen, where I was eating biscuits and sausage gravy. She mussed my already tangled hair and sat in my lap. "Does Galveston have a beach?"

I laughed and said, "Well, it has some really nice brown sand in large quantities and some pleasant brown water. You be the judge."

Jian-mei smiled broadly. "I can do brown. What do you say we go spend a few days at the beach? Maybe we could make our way down to South Padre as well."

I gazed at Jian-mei. I tried very hard but could not prevent the single tear. Then I said, "Works for me!"

She smiled and gave me a hug. “By the way, I am with child.”

*****

Forty-nine

“You may not be interested in war, but war is interested in you.”

Leon Trotsky

The Assassin

Not one to pass up an opportunity to strengthen my body, I concluded three hundred pushups, rose from the thick carpet of our bedroom, and sat in a winged-backed chair. Allowing my breathing to return to normal, I watched Marvin Ray Calhoun in his little boy diapers and white cotton shirt decorated with a Dallas Mavericks logo.

My son, the linchpin of my existence, slept in the center of Billy Ray’s and my bed, periodically sucking on his pacifier. Protective pillows surrounded him. His slumber continued, interrupted by occasional smiles on his adorable face. His black and luxurious hair arrived with my DNA. His tiny lips turned up slightly at the corners like his father’s. The suggestion of a cleft chin adorned his face. That came from Billy Ray’s gene pool as well.

For the most part, Marvin Ray’s one-year-old life moved along according to his wishes. When conditions strayed from his chosen standards, he communicated displeasure to a family member who made matters right. In most instances, I provided his requests. On other occasions, he chose his father or his Aunt Cloud. She was a frequent visitor

Momentarily withdrawing my attention from my son, I appreciated the panorama of the Dallas skyline radiating from the picture window of our nineteenth floor apartment. After only a few months in residence, we adjusted slowly, even though I grew up in the teaming streets of Macau. After the foggy months of my secular salvation in the two-story log house in East Texas, any other place would seem strange and foreboding. We also owned a condo in Houston, but I could not live there. When I am honest with myself, I prefer to live in the deep woods of Morris County, but security was too difficult. We are wealthy, hunted, and have dangerous enemies. Powerful enemies.

I am racially Asian and ethnically Chinese. I am tall with symmetrical features. I have full lip and larger eyes than one would expect to see in an Asian. My powerful body and flat stomach was a testament to a severe exercise regimen and carefully monitored eating habits. No hint of my pregnancy remains. On this day, I wear shorts and a loose cotton pullover. Calluses adorn my bare feet and the heels of my hands.

As young Marvin continued to immerse himself in the dream world of infants, I felt my cell phone vibrate. Rather than disturb my sleeping child, I stepped into the bath area, glanced at the caller I.D., and smiled. I flipped open the phone and spoke, “Let me guess. This is the wandering playboy checking up on the quality of my childcare again,” I said with a lilt in my voice.

“I would never doubt your ability to take care of our son. In fact, you are second only to me in that category. Well, maybe third. Cloud is good. After all, this is my first trip away from the bosom of my beloved family since the arrival of the heir. Besides, Marvin Ray may have started talking since I called this morning.” Billy Ray Calhoun spoke with a rich baritone voice containing more than a hint of irony.

I laughed. “I’m not complaining. If you hadn’t called by the time Marvin Ray woke up, I would have called you. He’s busy counting sheep, as you like to say. How is the deal going?”

“How else could it go? You have seen me operate. These Arabs are putty in my hands, especially with the help of Hong Bin-zhou. I hope you realize that if our take was not so huge, and the deal not so easy, I would be back in Dallas changing diapers.”

“I could count on one hand the number of diapers you ever changed, and spot you two fingers. You almost passed out the last time you tried. You had best leave such things to people of character and inner strength.” I peered around the door to check on Marvin Ray. “While you were out chasing English skirts, Cloud called. She misses Marvin Ray and sounds as if she might take a few days off work and resume her nanny job in the near future. It’s so nice when she is here, though I still am not sure if my son is completely aware that I’m his mother.”

Billy Ray retorted, “Considering your work load, maybe she should visit and take some of the weight off your shoulders.” He could not maintain his sarcasm, and broke into a chuckle. “It is just about dinner time here. Hong kept me out drinking until now. I plan to have dinner at the Gordon Ramsey. If I get lonely, I’ll give you a call before your bedtime.”

I answered in my low-pitched voice, “You had better get lonely. Ciao.” I broke the connection and eased back into the darkened room to resume my chores and the adoration of my child.

I picked up a tiny shirt, folded it, was about to place it in a stack, when I heard or felt something that was out of place. I stopped breathing, stood motionless for a short time, and then I laid down the shirt I was folding. Glancing at the empty door that led from the bedroom to a short hallway, I reached down and picked up Marvin Ray, careful not to disturb him. I backed slowly and silently to a large walk-in closet, where I laid Marvin Ray on the rich carpet. Am I being silly? Then, I floated like a wraith back into the bedroom and crouched behind my son’s chest of drawers.

Minutes passed, with nothing disturbing the silence of the room. I began to feel a little childish at the thought of my own dramatics. My body relaxed, and I was about ready to investigate the disturbance when I heard something else that didn’t belong. I settled back into a crouch taking on the ultra-alert persona developed from my years as the most feared assassin in Asia.

More time passed. Then, a large, bare foot slid into view.

*****

The owner of the foot exhibited patience, a trait that I possessed in abundance. The five years of horror perpetrated on me by the Korean, Ki Jin, taught me to ignore time and pain. The intruder was unaware of me, but I was aware of him so I had one advantage. He had several. He was armed and attacking. I was unarmed and defending, but then my weapons were my feet, hands, legs, elbows, speed, strength, and training. The trespasser fought against long odds.

Obviously, the silence confused our guest. When additional minutes passed and the foot did not move, I decided to eliminate one of his advantages and go on the attack. I could reach his head with a fast kick, after which he would be at my mercy. I crouched, took a deep breath, and flung my body into the air and into a spin. The first glimpse of my adversary came after I launched the kick, but then I lost sight of him as my head turned along with the rest of my body. Having experienced thousands of repetitions of that martial arts move, it was like breathing. I visualized his head even though I could not see it. Just as my eyes made the circuit and registered the surprised look on his face, I felt my heel connect with his temple. His legs collapsed, but I landed on my feet and brought the arch of my foot upward into his exposed jaw, disabling him. I raced to the kitchen, opened a drawer, and removed Billy Ray’s favorite tool, a roll of duct tape. Returning to the intruder, I swiftly taped his ankles together. Next, I bound his wrists behind his back and placed tape across his mouth.

Just as I finished, I heard Marvin Ray yelling, and then I observed him walking unsteadily into the bedroom. I scooped him up, gave him multiple kisses, and placed him on our bed. I changed his diaper, but the effort did not alter his mood. He was hungry, so I had little choice, but to take him with me into the living area where our caller was gradually returning to the world of reality. Needing to manage time, I chose to multi-task. I provided an engorged breast to Marvin, and while he feasted, I kept a careful eye on the would-be assassin.

The intruder lay glaring at us. He made an effort to rise, but I pointed my finger at him. He got the message and relaxed back onto the floor. However, he was desperate. While I concentrated on Marvin Ray, the assassin slowly backed up to a drawer, got it open, and looked for something with which to get free. When I noticed him, he turned and crouched. Knowing that he couldn’t go anywhere, I took the sated Marvin to our bed and returned to our guest. I delivered a swift kick into his unprotected face. He fell hard and groaned with pain. As he lay helpless on the floor, I kicked him hard in the genitals. This time, he would have screamed had the duct tape not muted the sound.

As he slowly began to regain his composure, I sat beside him with my face very close to his. His sense of bravado gradually channeled into fear. I dragged him to the center of the room, retrieved two chairs from the dining area, and taped him to them. That would slow him down a bit while I took care of business.

I heard Marvin Ray bawling once more, so I, briefly, returned to him. When I attempted to go back to our guest, he wailed until I capitulated and placed his playpen in a position so that he could watch the action.

I strolled back to our intruder and kicked him hard in the genitals once more. He pulled himself into a ball and moaned. Marvin Ray howled with laughter.

I retrieved a phone and called Billy Ray in London. He answered immediately, “I am just about to order a nice kidney pie. Did you decide to go to bed early?”

There was no time for chit chat. “Billy Ray, listen carefully. The General is on the move. He sent a calling card our way in the form of an assassin.”

“My God, Jian-mei. Are you all right? Is Marvin all right? “

I answered in a calm voice, “We are both fine. Our new friend is on the living area floor, duct taped and holding a pair of balls the size of grapefruits. I haven’t interrogated him yet, but I plan to do so just as soon as this conversation is over.”

Billy Ray had regained control of himself to a degree. “Did you call security?”

I answered with a laugh in my voice, “I doubt if the police would encourage me to question him. I need to find out what he knows about the General, and I don’t have the time to ask him nicely. After I empty his brain, he will join his ancestors.”

Billy Ray broke in. “Wow! Is that the best way to manage this deal? Just kill him? That kind of thinking takes a bit of getting used to.”

“Billy Ray. He tried to kill Marvin and me. There is no place for ethics here. This is about the survival of this family. I have had some experience in this business. I know what works and what doesn’t.”

Following a brief moment of silence, Billy Ray answered, “Of course you are right. We will do it your way. By the way, one of my Piney Springs buddies from high school is a captain in narcotics on the Dallas police force. His name is Richard McMichael. He will help us to whatever extent he can.”

“Great,” said Jian-mei. “We will need the use of some major databases if we are going to find General Ping. I intend to call Cloud. We need to turn Marvin Ray over to her so we won’t worry about him. What do you think about that?”

Billy Ray answered, “Great idea. Marvin Ray can be safe in New York while we deal with the general.”

Jian-mei said, “After arrangements with Cloud are underway and the interrogation is completed, I will call security. My story is that he broke into our apartment and tried to rob and kill us. I surprised him, took his gun, and shot him with it. It was self-defense. ”

Billy Ray spoke with a degree of seriousness, “Please be careful. I don’t know what I would do if anything happened to you or Marvin.”

“Nothing is going to happen to any of us. Aren’t you glad I forced you to learn martial arts while we were at the log house? There might be a time when I won’t be around to save your ass.”

“I passed you up long ago. You can’t touch me. Never could, never will. Well, maybe on occasion. Now I had better get off this phone and get my butt back to Dallas.”

“I have a lot to do myself. Hopefully, Marvin Ray will be on his way to New York by the time you get here.”

Billy Ray sighed deeply. “See you kid.”

“See you.”

I rang Cloud in New York and, much to my relief, she answered. She began asking about Marvin, but I cut her off and said, “Cloud, the General sent an assassin after me and Marvin. Luckily, my paranoia came in handy, and I turned the tables on him.”

“Are you all right? Is Marvin all right,” said Cloud in a strident voice.

“We are both fine. I just had to kick some butt. Our visitor did not survive, or at least he will not survive much longer.”

Cloud chuckled and said, “Remind me not to get you really pissed off at me.”

I paused for a second, and then continued, “We can’t take any chances with Marvin Ray’s safety. If you can arrange it, we need you to come to Dallas right away, pick up Marvin, and take him to New York where he will be safe. We are hoping the General will not be able to find him there. Billy Ray and I can take care of ourselves. Can you do this?”

Cloud answered immediately. “Give me ten minutes to pack and book a flight, and I am out of here. Just the thought of someone trying to harm a hair on the head of our baby makes my skin crawl.”

“Call me before your flight leaves, and I will arrange to meet you at the airport. I love you, Cloud, and I know Billy Ray does as well. You are a lifesaver.”

There was a moment of silence on the line, and then Cloud said, “You guys are all I have. I will do anything to protect you, even if it means I have to find the General and give him an East Texas ass kicking myself.”

I wanted to lighten the moment, so I said, “The down side to this deal is that when this is over and we bring Marvin home, he won’t even know who I am.”

“Yes,” said Cloud. “There is that.”

I came back with “Bitch” and broke the connection.

I positioned several colorful toys within Marvin’s reach to keep him occupied. Then I retreated to the bedroom, rummaged in a drawer, and retrieved a small brown sticker depicting a spider. I returned to the living area under the watchful eye of the bound intruder, and showed him the sticker. I spoke with disproportioned calmness. “Does this mean anything to you?”

The man lost all semblances of his composure, and fat tears streamed from his eyes. I removed the tape from his mouth, and he voiced his misery with low guttural sounds. “You are the Brown Recluse.”

“That is true.”

“No matter what I do, or what I say, I am doomed,” said the man in Mandarin Chinese.

I answered matter-of-factly, “Your time has come.”

The intruder found the courage to growl his defiance, “Then, I will tell you nothing. Kill me and be done with it.”

I paused, reached out, and touched his swollen scrotum. He moaned in agony and attempted to inch away, but the chairs would not allow it. Marvin Ray found the entire affair quite amusing and once again burst into laughter. I returned to a relaxed position and said, “I know a great deal about pain, how to induce it, and how to bear it. You can answer my questions, and if I am pleased with your answers, your reward will be a quick departure to the land of your ancestors. Should you choose to be obstinate, your suffering will last for days. In the end, you will tell me what I want to know, and your death is just as certain.”

The miserable man weighed his options for the next several seconds. I said nothing more since choosing a quick death over a horrible quality of life takes some getting used to. Finally, he said, “I will answer your questions.”

“A wise choice. Now tell me your name, where you were born, and a brief biography. Then tell me what you know about General Ping Mu-yao and anyone who works for him. I wish to know about the person who gave you this assignment.”

I listened carefully as the Chinese man unfolded his story. His name was Lu Dai-heng. He grew up outside of Lanzhou in central China and joined the People’s Liberation Army at eighteen. His superiors discovered that he had a talent for hand-to-hand combat and the martial arts. They assigned him to a special unit, and there he caught the eye of General Ping. After his basic and advanced training, a Major Lee Pan-kie approached Lu in 2005 and ordered him to serve in a special unit. Lu soon found himself embroiled in clandestine projects inside the military. His most troublesome assignment came when Lee ordered him to pick up an enlisted man, a sergeant, and an officer from a military jail, take them to a secluded place, kill them, and dispose of their bodies. He never asked, nor did he learn why he received such an order, but the episode was disconcerting.

Major Lee became his contact and superior officer. Surprisingly, the major disappeared for a time but resurfaced in late 2007. Lee gave him money and instructions to leave China, make his way to San Francisco, and finally to the Metroplex in Texas. Since arriving, he gathered information on the local drug dealers and their pipeline. Major Lee ordered the hit on Jian-mei and her son. When she asked him where one might find Major Lee, Lu said he was not sure, but thought he might live in Ft. Worth. He provided a description of the major.

“Do you know of any other associates of the general?”

Lu studied for a moment. “There is talk of another former member of the politburo in the PRC. He made many sacrifices for the people’s movement during the formation of the country. Supposedly, he lost a foot, a hand, and an eye. I do not know his name. The only thing I heard about the general is that he has white hair.”

I continued interrogating Lu Dia-heng for some time, attempting to confuse him about his own story. He stuck with the facts as previously given. Finally, I felt convinced that he had nothing left to add. It appeared that the General planned to become involved in the Metroplex drug trade. If that were the case, he would be easier to find. When I concluded that Lu had divulged all he knew, he realized his time had run out. He remained stoic.

Out of curiosity, I asked him, “If I were to spare your life, could I depend on your loyalty?”

Lu answered with candor, “The present situation should answer your question.”

“Yes, it does.”

I looked around the condominium for anything I might have missed. I retrieved the automatic handgun that Lu had dropped, jacked a round into the chamber, and confronted Lu for the last time. He appeared to be at peace with his fate, so I wasted no time. I covered the weapon with several layers of aluminum foil and pumped two rounds into his heart. His face registered a moment of surprise before his eyes glazed.

I worked fast to remove the duct tape bonds, and flushed them down the toilet. I knew there would be traces on Lu Dia-heng’s body, but I would offer no information on the subject. I replaced the chairs at the dining table and proceeded to break the ulna bone on Lu’s right wrist. The reason was to support my story that I was skilled in the martial arts and had disarmed the man. Powder residue on my shooting hand, a bruise on his head, and on his jaw would further support the story. I grabbed the duct tape spool, rushed into the hall, and deposited it in the mail chute after wiping it clean of any prints. Unable to think of anything else to support my version of the event, I dialed security.

*****

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