Strong Darkness (2 page)

Work on the tracks, though, still had yet to resume, the land deemed too wet to drive the ties into place to properly secure the rails. By then, William Ray imagined the Chinese had worn out their welcome as far as the locals, never known in these parts to be friendly toward strangers, were concerned. A local sheriff had called in the Rangers as soon as Han Chu's body was found, and William Ray had ridden through the night to pick up the trail that had brought him to this bar and Cole Varney.

It turned out the tree from which Varney had hung the Chinese victim actually lay in Langtry, home of the infamous Judge Roy Bean. Bean was known for hanging more than his share of men himself, just not any who were patrons of the saloon that doubled as his courthouse, which the accused clearly was. William Ray didn't expect much from Bean and, true to form, the judge didn't disappoint.

“Yo there, Ranger,” he heard Bean's voice call, when he was halfway out the door in the wake of the verdict being announced.

William Ray turned slowly, watching the judge comb his long gray beard with the fingers of his right hand. “What can I do for you, Judge?”

“You're real good at holding your tongue, ain't ya, son?”

“I did my job, sir. Not for me to tell others how best to do theirs.”

“No matter, Ranger. You heard me say there's no law in Texas against killing a Chink, I imagine.”

“I did indeed. Imagine you got it out of that single law book of yours.”

“Well, that same book's got nothing to say about killing a whole bunch of Chinks neither,” Bean said, his expression tightening to the point where the spiderweb of red veins across both his cheeks smoothed a bit. “Chink ladies more to the point.”

“Sounds like you're about to tell me something I oughtta know, Judge.”

“I am indeed, son. Regular customer of mine who supplies beef to the railroad spilled it in the saloon just the other night 'fore he puked all over his shoes.” Roy Bean stopped long enough to stuff a thick wad of tobacco into his mouth, his left cheek puckering and then filling out with what looked like a round rock wedged in place there. “Four Chink women he said, all killed deader than dead in the past few weeks since the rains come, their bodies left like you wouldn't believe. Chinks figure the rains brought something else with them.”

“And what's that?”

“Southern Pacific man heard them blame a ‘black guy,' meaning we could be looking to put a nigger in our sights, if that makes any sense.”

“It doesn't.
Bahk guai
is what the man meant by those words.”

“Huh?”

“Chinese for ‘white devil.'”

Bean stiffened. “That ain't right at all.”

“'Course the phrase could mean something else entirely, more literal.”

“Like what?”

“An actual devil, a demon.”

“Well, son, I never put one of them on trial.”

“First time for everything, Judge. In any event, I'll head out to the Chinese camp and have myself a look straightaway.”

Roy Bean looked as if he were running the prospects of that through his mind. “I'm of a mind to ride along with you on this one, Ranger.”

William Ray hocked up some spittle. “Rangers are used to working alone.”

“Land west of the Pecos got its own law, son, and that law's me. Trouble here is you ain't gonna be facing Injuns or Mexicans, no sirree. You ever get yourself snared in barbed wire?”

“Can't say I have, Judge.”

“'Cause that's what this investigation is gonna be like. You're gonna be dealing with a whole bunch of interlopers and invaders, from the Chinese to the Southern Pacific goons, to their bosses in starched suits coming to our land like they can do whatever they want with it. Pays to have a man of my esteem standing by your side with a pair of wire cutters should the need arise.”

William Ray considered Bean's proposal, working his tongue around his mouth from the left to right and sweeping it across the inside of both cheeks, pushing one out and then the other. “On one condition, Judge: any man I arrest stands a fair trial.”

“Aw, hell, I only sentenced two men in my whole career to hang.”

“Were they guilty?”

“Close enough.”

“Close enough don't cut it in my book,” William Ray groused. “I can't stop you from holding your court in a saloon. But if booze dictates your justice, I'll burn the place down with you in it.”

“I'm offering you a helping hand here, Ranger,” the judge said, frustrated by the lack of embrace to his proposal.

“Which has got a mite too much blood on it for my tastes.”

Roy Bean made a show of wiping both his hands on a vest missing half its buttons. “That oughtta do the trick. So let's ride out to that camp and catch us a killer, a demon, or a black guy.”

“That's
bahk guai
.”

“Isn't that what I said?”

C
HINA, 1998

“You understand there is a stern price you must pay for such grand ambitions.”

“
Wo yuan yi
,” Li Zhen said in his native Mandarin, forcing himself to bow slightly. “I do.”

Zhen stood reverently in the center of the deceptively simple room formed of a bamboo floor and walls covered in rattan and tightly woven straw. The harsh light shining in his eyes nearly blinded him while the three men seated at the table before him remained lost to darkness. Mere shadows wearing expensive dark suits, formless and lacking any texture at all, visible only in the slight motions and mannerisms they allowed themselves. A fourth chair had been placed behind the table but it remained empty.

“I am willing to offer you anything in my possession,” Zhen said to them, bowing again so they wouldn't notice him visibly cringe at this necessary show of deference.

“In your case,” another voice said to him, “anything may not be enough. You are not of the proper social class to pursue such ambitions. You should consider yourself fortunate to even be permitted in this room.”

“I understand.”

“No,” snapped the third man hoarsely. “If you understood, you would not have bothered wasting the Triad's time
, er bal wu
.”

“Perhaps it is my own time I am wasting,” Zhen said, hardly bothered by being called a fool.

He had been directed to this room inside a decrepit building rising from the refuse of what the Chinese government referred to as “inner-city villages.” Slums like this had been settled in crumbling neighborhoods by rural migrants in search of any work the factories and plants nearby had to offer, the truly poor and destitute. Many of the homes and structures had been built illegally, the government turning a blind eye to the challenges posed by evicting and then resettling huge masses of residents. Sometimes it was easier to leave well enough alone.

“Perhaps,” Zhen continued to the shocked trio seated before him, “I should be bringing this opportunity to other parties.”

“You would dare disrespect us this way?” snapped the third man. “Watch your tongue or you will find yourself without it.”

“I come from a neighborhood like this,” Zhen told them quite calmly. “I was raised in a slum.”

“As you remain in our eyes and the eyes of China. Peasant scum,” one of the men hissed.

“We are well aware of your background,” the man in the center, who Zhen knew to be the leader, said, sounding more intrigued than angered, “along with the areas of expertise that have already endeared you to us. Your pornography interests have yielded a great fortune. Perhaps you should consider an expansion there in an area of familiarity.”

“It is another area I seek your support in pursuing.”

“And what might that be?”

“The future,
sh
Ä«
fù
,” Zhen said, careful to use the most reverent word for “master.”

In China, there was no such thing really as upward mobility. The only alternative to winning the favor of the government or military for men like Li Zhen was to pursue an alliance with the only other true power in China: that of the Triad, a criminal organization with interests all across the globe that often counted the government and military as its willing partners.

“We can look out the window and see the future,” the second man scoffed. “You waste our time. Go back where you belong.”

“A slum like this
is
where I belong, among the dregs where Chinese society dictates I must reside. I come to you because it lies in our mutual best interests to change that. And I wish to do right by the Triad,” Zhen added respectfully, “for the opportunities already afforded me.”

“Then go back to make more of your dirty pictures.”

“I can do much better than that,” Zhen said and produced a floppy disc from his pocket; he promptly brought it to the table and laid it before the leader seated in the center. “This is merely an example.”

“And what exactly does it contain?” the leader asked, holding the disc up before him.

“The product of a quest,
sh
Ä«
fù
, a quest that brought me to America on the pretext of expanding my interests there. A new age of communications technology is dawning that will change the world forever. And we can own that age. It can be ours.”

The leader passed the disc to the man on his right.

“One disc,” that man said, regarding it disparagingly. “This must be a very modest future indeed.”

“I have nine more containing the greatest secrets of America's telecommunications industries, the secrets that will open the door to the future of their wireless technology. We can beat the Americans in the race to this future. They see it as a sprint, while we know it is a marathon.”

“What do you seek from us?” asked the leader.

“Your backing now,
sh
Ä«
fù.
Your funding later.”

“I'm afraid,” said the Triad captain still holding the floppy disc, “backing for such an elaborate venture does not suit a man of a standing better fit for serving us with his films of naked women and sex.”

Zhen remained unruffled.

“I have further demonstration of my true capabilities,” he said, focusing on the empty chair set behind the table. “A shame about Governor Chen's tragic passing.”

The Triad captain slammed the floppy disc down atop the table. “You dare raise his name, you dare violate the sanctity of this chamber with such a blatant disregard for our ways?”

“I understand it was a car accident just this afternoon after his driver inexplicably lost control,” Zhen resumed. “You will learn that the car continued to accelerate, that its braking system was rendered inoperative. It was traveling at over a hundred and fifty kilometers per hour when it crashed into that bridge support and burst into flames.”

“And you tell us this to showcase the depth of your knowledge?” the man challenged.

“No, I tell you because it could've been you, any of you. A check of the remains of the wreck's engine block will reveal my initials soldered just under the head gasket. So the three of you should count yourself as fortunate that I chose Governor Chen for my demonstration.”

“Demonstration of what exactly?”

“The potential to use technology toward our nation's best interests.”

“So if you were aware of Governor Chen's identity,” the Triad captain on the far left started, “we can assume you know ours as well.”

“A fair assumption, Magistrate,” Zhen told him casually.

“You play a dangerous game,” the leader said, before either of the other two Triad captains could respond. “Now it is up to you to explain why we should let you leave this building alive.”

“Because, Colonel Chang, it remains in your best interests to do so. I have just demonstrated to you the power of using technology as a weapon. Multiply that many, many times and you have a notion of what backing me can achieve, the power I seek to lay at our country's doorstep with your help.” Zhen bowed slightly again in feigned reverence. “But I have also come with an offering of my goodwill and intentions,” he continued, “a sacrifice to the greater good of China.”

With that, Li Zhen removed a picture from his pocket and held it up to the light for the Triad captains to see.

“A gift?” the leader raised, clearly impressed by what he saw.

“As is the custom of any man who comes before you.”

“Even a man who would dare threaten us?”

“Especially such a man.”

“You understand the consequences.”

Zhen nodded. “I do, and I accept them with heavy heart but knowing mind. Regrettable, but necessary to prove my loyalty to you and to provide tangible demonstration that I love our great nation more than anything.”

He stopped there to let his point sink in, taking the silence of the Triad captains for the fact this face-saving gesture had captured their interest and left them in his trust. Yet he couldn't help wondering what they'd think if they knew his true purpose in coming before them, his true goals. Zhen had killed the fourth member of their council, Governor Chen, to make one point.

And he intended to kill millions and millions of Americans to make another. Because it was America's fault he was forced to come groveling to these men to attain the power and riches that should have been his birthright.

The leader continued to regard the picture Zhen was holding. “We will require some time to consider this matter.”

“I have waited all my life for this opportunity,” Zhen said humbly. “I can wait a little longer for China to own the world.”

Colonel Chang, the Triad captain in the center, smiled wryly. “You mean we don't already?”

“Not yet. But with America's help we will.”

 

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