Point Blank (Sisterhood Book 26) (24 page)

Lily crawled back out from under the table and ran over to her father to stick her hands in each of his pockets until she found what she wanted. A wide smile on her face, she carried the two treasures she was holding over to Yuke Lok. “My daddy says you always have to keep a promise. He’s right. He brought them all the way from America for you.” She held out the butterfly pin and the cherry red lipstick.

Yuke Lok stared down at her little sister’s offering. “But how . . . you had no way of telling your father . . .” Cooper barked, and Lily laughed out loud. “It’s magic,” she whispered to Yuke Lok.”

“That was so sweet,” Nikki said to Kathryn. “Did you see that?”

“I did, and you’re right. Time to go, everyone!” Kathryn shouted.

“Good-bye, China!” the group shouted as they all gathered up their belongings to head to the shored-up entrance. Outside, the same bus that had brought them to the monastery waited for them, this time carrying one more passenger, Lily Wong.

The good-byes were brief but heartfelt. Brother Hung gasped at the amount of American currency Annie stuffed into the pockets of his yellow robe, but he simply bowed. And then he did a very American thing—he hugged her and Myra as well.

And, finally, they were ready to board the bus and head down the mountain to the airport that would take them to Macau.

“Well done, people!” Charles said “We can now return to the States via Macau, knowing that once again we persevered and prevailed.”

“Hear! Hear!” they all shouted as the big bus raced down the hill on the first leg of their journey back to the States.

 

T
hough the sky was clear, the air was frigid, and the wind was shrieking and howling as the group boarded the bus that would take them to the bottom of the mountain, where they would start the first leg of their journey back to the States.

The members of the group partnered up and took their seats, mindful of Brother Hung’s words that the bus was a bit ancient, without heat or seat belts. They didn’t care; all they wanted to do was leave the monastery as fast as possible.

For the most part, the group was quiet. Charles and Fergus, at the front of the bus, conversed in low tones, anxious, fretful tones that turned to anger. “This is the first time Avery has failed me. I’m starting to think the Chinese pulled him in. Otherwise, some way, somehow, he would have found a way to get in touch. I’m not sure the monks are capable of . . .”

“Go ahead, mate, say it. Disposing of Wing Ping and his minions. I agree with you. I also find it hard to believe that he couldn’t outwit these cartoon characters who pose as police.”

Charles fiddled with his mobile, then blinked when a text appeared from Brother Shen. It was short and curt.
Your people are here.
Charles showed it to Fergus. He leaned toward the aisle from his seat, his fist shooting in the air. “Mr. Snowden arrived. We know nothing more at this point.” The collective sigh of relief wafted all the way to the front of the bus.

Charles leaned back and closed his eyes. He felt light-headed, almost giddy with relief that Snowden, for whatever reason, had not failed him.

“This isn’t the way we went up the mountain,” Fergus said suddenly. “This is a different road.”

“One of the monks said in passing that you go up one way and go down another way. I don’t know why that is. We were all on an adrenaline high when we traveled up, but I do recall thinking it was rather steep. Perhaps it iced over.

“And we never did figure out how Wing Ping made it up to the monastery. At some point we’ll figure it out, and it will turn out to be so simple, we’ll feel silly for not realizing whatever the explanation is. Does that make sense, Fergus?”

“This might be a good time to tell me what is
really
bugging you, mate. We did what we came here to do, and now we’re on our way home. What could be better?”

“We aren’t home yet, Fergus. There is that little business of Bert in Macau. Annie still hasn’t heard a thing.
That
has me very concerned.” All Fergus could do was nod in agreement.

In the back of the bus, Dennis fidgeted in his seat next to Jack. “Okay, okay, what is it, kid? We pulled it off, we’re on our way home, so what’s bothering you?”

“That snake, that Wing Ping. He wanted to fight Harry to the death. That’s bothering me. It should bother you, too, Jack.”

“It didn’t happen. We’re good here, Dennis. You should know Harry would never, ever kill anyone. Now, that’s not to say he wouldn’t hurt someone bad enough that they wished they were dead, but to actually kill someone, no!”

“What’s going to happen to him? Wing Ping, I mean. This is . . . China, not the United States, where that guy Snowden has superpowers, or at least it seems like that. Like I said, this is China.”

“You know better than to ask that, kid. We do not ask. That’s our number one rule. Whatever happens to him will be well deserved. He had Harry’s friend killed. Jun Yu’s wife and children are now in a strange land without a father and husband. He has to pay for that. Somehow, some way. And if you did know, how would that help you?”

“I don’t suppose it would. It’s the reporter in me. I want to know the why, the how, and the outcome. I’m nervous right now, so I might say whatever pops into my head.”

“You need to get over that real quick, kid. It is what it is. Whatever happens to him, he deserves it. The first rule is that we never, ever,
ever
ask that question. Relax and stop fidgeting. That’s an order.”

Dennis chomped down on his lower lip but did as he was told.

Jack leaned back and followed his own advice and closed his eyes. He longed for warmth and to be high above the earth in American airspace. It couldn’t happen soon enough for him.

Twenty minutes later, the old bus came to a halt outside the same building from which they’d started their journey. Even in the bus, they could hear the babble of voices coming from a group of people in uniform.

“I was afraid of this,” Charles said. “I was expecting a police presence but not of this magnitude. We’ll let Harry and Dishbang Deshi take care of this.” He turned to alert Harry, but Harry and Dishbang Deshi were almost to the front of the bus.

“Let us do the talking,” Harry said, as the driver, one of the monks on this trip, nervously opened the door.

“Of course I am, mate. We have papers, credentials, the best money can buy,” Fergus whispered. He looked over at Annie, who simply nodded. The nod meant her plane had left Hong Kong and was en route to Macau. “We need to get out of this country as fast as possible. But first we have to make it to Macau.”

“Tell me something I do not already know, Fergus. Even you should realize we are not going to be cleared to leave this area until those . . . those . . . crackpots say we can. Right now, we have to leave it up to Harry and Dishbang Deshi to get us out of this.”

At that moment, a fat little man of middle age, wearing drab olive green with a matching cap, stepped forward, his hand outstretched. Harry nodded and handed over his legitimate passport and visa. Dishbang Deshi did the same thing. A fast and furious dialogue followed, along with several bows and a lot of arm waving. There were no smiles, no nods of understanding. Finally, Harry stepped forward and was literally eyeball to eyeball with the fat little man. He did some hand pointing and held up his hand as he ticked off his fingers.

“I think he’s trying to find out about Avery, and the fat guy is saying he doesn’t know anything about such a person. I’m thinking that’s a good thing.”

Charles looked down at his mobile and the incoming text. He wanted to shout with joy, but he didn’t. “It’s from Avery. He has the situation in hand. He said there are Chinese police on his trail, but the monks will take over. The police were unable to get up the mountain because of the ice. So we’re good on that score. Pass the word, but do it quietly.”

The group shuffled their feet as the dialogue between Harry and the fat little official continued. And then a strange thing happened. The fat little man motioned for Harry to stand next to him, so he could have his picture taken. All the uniformed men clapped their hands and wanted their pictures taken with Harry, who gladly obliged.

And then they were free to board the tram that would take them to the airport for the short flight that would land at Macau International Airport, where they hoped they would find the answers to the mystery surrounding Bert Navarro.

Ninety minutes later, the plane landed in Macau, with the passengers offering up high-fives to each other. They used up another twenty minutes securing a van that could accommodate all of them. Their destination, the Sands Hotel and Casino, where Bert had last been seen.

Isabelle looked down at the mobile clutched in her hand. “I know where he is! Abner found him! I’m talking about Bert! Oh my God! Oh my God! Listen to this. Bert beat the house at the Sands. He was on his way to the Wynn with his winnings, so Todd, who manages the Wynn, could pay off all the ticket sales for the fight that never came off and for which the Wynn was on the hook. I don’t mean Bert was carrying money, but he had something from the Sands that the Wynn would accept. He was waylaid on the way and left out in the street. Easily recognized as an American, he was taken to the hospital, but whoever beat him up took all his identification. Abner says he has a dislocated shoulder, broken ribs, his face looks like pulp, and they think some damage was done to his kidneys. He’s in bad shape but will recover. They have him listed as a Chinese-American named Lu Fu. He’s in a private hospital called Hospital Kiang Wu. The good thing is, he was not taken to the one public hospital, and Abner says that none of the hospitals in Macau are internationally accredited. But he’s alive, and that’s what matters.”

A cheer went up from the group. No eyes turned to see what if any reaction there was from Kathryn Lucas.

“First, we go to both casinos. Then we can decide what we should do about the hospital,” Annie said, taking charge. The others agreed as they clamored into the van that would take them to the Wynn Casino, where they could get the real lowdown on Bert Navarro.

“I say we get something to eat before we do anything,” Ted said. “Let’s take a vote!”

One look from Annie was all it took for Ted and the others to realize they could wait until she gave the okay to chow down. “Business first” was how she put it.

The Wynn Casino and Hotel was no different from any casino and hotel back in the States. The bells and whistles were the same. The customers, mostly Asian, chattered and squealed just like the gamblers back in the States. The carpets looked the same, the blinding white lights the same, the security prowling the aisles the same.

Annie looked around, then turned to the group, and said, “Since we’re a contingent of Americans, I’m thinking all we need to do at the moment is to stand still, and the head of security will find us. Oh, I think he’s headed our way as I speak. At least he fits Bert’s description of his pal Todd.

Annie stepped forward, her hand outstretched. Todd was a big man with a brush cut, steely gray eyes, and a salt-and-pepper mustache. At a quick glance, one would put his weight at around 190 when in truth he weighed 230 pounds. He was as light on his feet as a dancer. The smile he offered up never reached his eyes because his eyes were everywhere in the room. He was doing the meet-and-greet, but at the same time he was taking care of business. Annie appreciated that. They shook hands, introductions were made, and then the number one question was asked. “How is Bert?”

Todd ushered the group away from the crowds toward a bar area called the Halo Bar. He motioned for them to take a seat while he ordered drinks on the house for all of them. Bowls of pretzels and chips dotted the tables. The group as one grabbed and crunched until the cold, frosty bottles of Tsingtao beer arrived and, in just moments, were quickly replaced as the gang gulped and swallowed.

Annie walked away from the group and looked up at the tall man staring down at her. “Your man is okay, Ms. de Silva. Believe it or not I just found out myself, forty minutes ago, via a text by somebody named Abner Tookus. By okay I mean as well as he can be with the beating he suffered. The Sands replaced his winnings, and we’re in the process of repaying ticket sales. Bert was extremely upset about all of that. For a guy with his credentials, I am having trouble believing he allowed himself to be blindsided the way he was. But that’s water under the bridge, as we say back in the States. Just so you know, Bert and I go way back. We’ve been friends for years.

“There’s a lot of flak going on over at the Sands, with Bert having beaten the house as badly as he did. Big Al, who is also a friend, assured me that he did it fair and square. But there are some out there, I am sure, who will say that is not the case. What I’ve just told you is the sum total of what I know.

“Al says he doesn’t know any more than what I’ve just told you. Bert is in good hands. Al and I both have some of our best security watching over him. Just in case. You never know, this is China.

“By the way, if you and your contingent of people are thinking about going to the hospital, don’t. It’s different over here, ma’am. Let’s not make any waves. If you want to send him a message, give it to me, and I’ll see that he gets it.

“Since the exhibition was called off, there has been a lot of rumbling going on, some idle, some serious. We’re always mindful of the triads and the tongs here because, as I always say, this is China. Take my advice and get out of here as quick as you can.”

Annie struggled for a smile but failed. “My plane is ninety minutes out. As much as I don’t want to, I will take your advice. Tell Bert to get in touch when he’s able to. Should I leave money for the hospital bill?”

“Will do. That’s not necessary. Al and I took care of that already. Over here, you pay in advance, plus tip plus bribe. You know how that goes. Now if I might make an observation, your people seem hungry. How about a dinner in my private dining room for all of you. You did say you have ninety minutes. Deal?”

“Deal,” Annie said, as she offered up her hand. She motioned for the others to follow her, which they did gladly.

The meal was a scrumptious affair—jumbo prawns, thick Kobe beef steaks, baked potatoes, and a luscious green salad. The biscuits, Espinosa said, were so light they could float on air. The Tsingtao flowed like water.

A bevy of waiters were about to serve a delicious five-tier chocolate mousse cake when Todd appeared, and shouted, “Now! Everyone move!”

Within three minutes flat, the group was in the casino van and being transported to the airport, where they made a mad scramble for the stairs that were being lowered to the ground. They bolted forward, pushing and shoving until they were all on board.

“Wheels up in ten seconds,” the pilot shouted. They were slicing down the runway before anyone was seated and belted in. They were airborne in less than thirty seconds.

“What the hell!” Jack shouted.

Everyone had something to say at the same time. They stopped talking when the pilot’s voice came over the loudspeaker. “Sorry about the rush, folks. Someone named Big Al called and said to get all your asses airborne as quickly as possible because . . . a detaining party was on the way to take you all in for questioning. I hope that answers any questions you might have. So, folks, lean back and enjoy the ride. Our hostess for the trip is named Sara, and she will be serving beverages in just a few minutes.”