“What?” I asked as the pounding came again.
“Get on,” she scolded, “and get ready to break that window.”
Never one to displease a woman, I wrapped my thighs around her waist, resting my weight on her hips and locking my ankles in front of her pelvis. My left arm, I hooked over her left shoulder and under her right arm, gripping what I could of her leather jacket. My right arm, I braced cross-wise in front of us.
The second I was in position, she charged forward, erupting like an Olympic sprinter off of the starting blocks. Between my front door and the circular window was an eighteen foot stretch of floor, intentionally kept clear to help the space seem larger. She crossed it before I could blink, giving me barely enough time to react.
I swung my bionic arm, blasting the glass outward and away from us. The impact must have cost us momentum, but her powerful legs more than compensated. Smashing small shards still attached to the window sill, she planted her last step and launched us outward into the open.
We were airborne, flying between buildings. Behind me, I heard the wrenching of steel, my front door being driven into my apartment. Far below, figures clad in black tactical uniforms gaped up at us from under patrol caps as they exited a black van. Two impacts from behind knocked the wind from my lungs and chipped brick erupted within feet of us as we crashed through a boarded up window, tumbling onto the ancient carpeting of a dusty room.
Things skittered away from us in the dark. I struggled to breathe through the two sharp points of pain in my back, my nose filling with the acrid smell of ash and charred wood with each breath. Nikie squirmed and complained inside my vest, but I was happy to hear it. If she had been in pain, she would have gone quiet. Jennifer stood and helped me up, getting us away from the open window. The jump had carried us across a three lane road and dropped us two floors, giving the men inside my apartment a more difficult shot at us. Still, it was best not to take any chances.
“You’re bleeding,” she said through a busted lip.
“We need to get out of here,” I said. “They’re not going to give up easily.”
“They’ll be coming up the stairs. We could go up, jump rooftop to rooftop.”
“No. This is the shortest building in the area. If we go to the roof, we’ll be stuck there.”
“I can call in the cops,” she offered.
“Morning traffic. It’ll take them an hour to get here.”
“Unless they’re already in the area.”
“Well, that’s a scary thought,” I said.
“What?”
“What if these guys are the cops?”
“Fair point. Either way, I’m betting these guys aren’t up for negotiating. How do you feel about fighting?”
“I’d rather not, while I’m carrying little miss, here.” I continued gently rubbing the outside of the lump to keep her calm. “You could call your boss, and we could hide until help arrives.”
“Assuming we actually could stay hidden that long, with a scared cat and them noisily tossing every room on this floor, it’s still going to throw us pretty far behind schedule.”
“Any other ideas?” I asked.
“Maybe one,” she responded.
“What is it?”
“We could dress up like ghosts to scare them away.”
Stunned to silence by her joke, my mouth hung open in the dark.
“You know,” she explained, “like in Scooby Doo.”
“So that show you’ve watched?”
She may have been smiling at me, but I couldn’t see much. What little light was coming in the window was being stifled by clouds of dust in the air. I stepped to the front door of the small apartment and listened for a moment. Hearing nothing at all, I gently opening it onto a hall just as black as the room we were in. I pulled out my cell phone to shine its light around.
On one end of the dim hall was the stairwell access. On the other was an elevator with no lights on. Between the two were steel doors bent from fire damage, paint peeling to reveal peeling paint, and only half a ceiling’s worth of tiles. In the relative silence of the burned building, I began to hear heavy boots echoing up the stairwell.
“How many cars did you see below us?” I asked her.
“I’m afraid I was a bit focused on the jump.”
“Well, I only saw two cars, and three men below, and those guys hit the stairwell pretty quick.”
She stepped out into the hallway next to me. “You think they brought two teams of three.”
“One to come after us, and one to watch the front door. But we, well you, gave them something they didn’t expect.”
“If the lookouts came up after us, and the other team is still in the other building, we just might have a gap we can slip through.”
“Yeah,” I added, “if we can get downstairs fast enough.”
“The elevator shaft?”
“You read my mind.”
She drew the Max Nine from her shoulder holster. “You get these elevator doors open. I’ll cover us.”
She readied her weapon for battle, checking the clip and safety. I charged down the hallway to the elevator and drove my hand between the doors. From their charred exterior I half expected them to be melted shut, but they slid open easily and I was glad to find two cables running the visible length of the shaft. Turning off my phone, I slipped it back into the hidden pocket in my jacket. I wasn’t fond of throwing myself down a burned out shaft into a black abyss, but I had no way of holding the device on the way down.
I felt a hand on my back. “Go,” came Jennifer’s whisper. “I’ll be right behind you.”
As footfalls from the far stairwell grew louder, I held Nikie firmly to my stomach and leaned out to grip the closest cable. I swung my legs and feet out over the void and relaxed my grip slightly, allowing a controlled downward acceleration. I knew the friction was going to do some serious damage to my bionic hand, but it was nothing I couldn’t repair, so long as it held out long enough to make it to the bottom.
The rubber grip pads on my hand and fingers wore away quickly, causing me to pick up unwanted speed. I couldn’t tell how many floors I had passed, but the gunfire, when I heard it, seemed distant. Two soft clacks echoed off the metal, then two more, followed by a rapid fire barrage of unsuppressed gunfire. Heavy sounds of impact rattled the walls around me, accompanied by a light shining in my eyes. I half expected to take a bullet in the top of my head, until Jennifer passed me in the shaft.
“Almost there,” she said, zipping by, dropping from crevice to crevice, her legs taking the weight of each fall with ease, shaking the walls as she moved.
She reached the roof of the elevator only seconds before me, kicking the maintenance hatch inward. I grabbed the edge of the hatch and lowered myself and Nikie down to the floor as gently as I could. The elevator door was already standing open, and Jennifer was already halfway across the lobby, moving toward the boarded up front windows beside the smashed in front door. For good measure, I picked up a loose board and slid it through the handles of the stairwell doors.
“I can’t be sure if we’re clear,” Jennifer quietly called to me. “If they’re still in your apartment, they could just fire on us from above.”
I peered through the boards with her. Time was not on our side, and a decision needed to be made. I was just about to suggest we make a run for it when I saw a much safer alternative.
Across the street, a host of maroon clad nuns had come to a stop outside my building. They hadn’t been here for the action, but the evidence was all around. More aware than most, their eyes took in the glass on the street as pedestrians trod it underfoot. Above them, they saw the empty window of my apartment and the smashed boards across the street. I stepped over to the door, trying to make myself more visible. Ani Ngawang was the first to see me.
Crossing the slow moving traffic in the streets, Ani Ngawang led the group in a wide swing to the front of the abandoned building. They moved in a tight cluster, shuffling past
the front windows. Two of the nuns loosened their zhens, preparing to remove them. I hated to inconvenience them, but I didn’t see a smarter way out.
“Follow me,” I spoke to Jennifer. “Just keep your head down and move with the group.”
I stepped out first, sliding into the group with my head down and shoulders slumped. Maroon cloth was draped over me by the woman behind me, covering my head like a hood and hanging to the ground. I clasped it in front with one hand, keeping the other on Nikie.
Jennifer had understood perfectly. She moved in behind me to receive her own disguise. Few non-Buddhists were familiar enough with the traditional robes of the nuns to spot anything out of the ordinary, so long as the nuns stayed close enough that no one saw our pants peeking out from below the hand made garment.
Moving through a sea of pedestrians walking to and from work, Jennifer and I adopted the body language camouflage of nondescript unimportance, slumping our shoulders, keeping our heads down, and moving at a casual pace. We passed black vans illegally parked halfway up on the sidewalk, and I resisted the urge to peer inside. Behind us, boots stomped out onto the sidewalk, first from my building and second from the condemned building. Someone exclaimed a loud curse, and we continued to move on as if we hadn’t heard a thing.
They had probably expected this to be a quick job, in and out. Knock on the door and squeeze the trigger. I try to be a cautious person, but I can’t say I wouldn’t have opened that door had I been on my own, or maybe they would have just shot me through it. Maybe I could have broken out the window and climbed down, dodging bullets fired from the second team on the ground as I descended twenty floors. Either way, I had clearly not been prepared, not for an attack on this scale.
Whoever was signing their checks had likely sent the same number after Cassdan, making only twelve men in total. Just about every company in town could have spared that many from their own security teams, not to mention the Combine and even a few private business persons like Rossi and Marrow. With what was at stake, I couldn’t even rule out the city police as possible suspects. In fact, the only people that it likely wasn’t were the repo brothers, yet they could easily still be involved.
After several minutes of walking and constantly glancing at our surroundings, I could feel my shoulders begin to relax. “Thank you for the assistance,” I spoke to the group.
“A kind act is its own reward,” Ani Ngawang reminded me.
“How’s Nikie?” Jennifer asked.
“She’s alright,” I responded. “She’ll be a lot happier once we get somewhere familiar. Poor thing was already a paranoid little cuss. I’m going to have to take out a loan to pay for her therapy.”
Jennifer was kind enough to give my bad joke a small laugh before changing the subject. “I have to ask,” Jennifer spoke to Ani Ngawang, “what on Earth were you doing there?”
“Alms rounds,” I offered. “They’re in the area around this time every day.”
“Aren’t Buddhist alms rounds usually done a lot earlier than this?”
I didn’t have the answer to that, but Ani Ngawang did. “One could spend an entire year debating the value and purpose of any tradition,” she said, “and never come to a conclusion. But in the end, nothing survives if it does not adapt and change with a changing world.”
It was usually impossible to deny her storied wisdom, so I rarely tried. We were nearly three blocks away from my building, and I was beginning to become concerned that we were pulling the nuns away from something more important than babysitting us.
“I think we should part here,” I said, coming to a stop and pulling the robe off of my head.
No sooner had I exposed my face than I heard the whirring of a drone’s fans. I pulled the cloth back up and stared at the ground, watching a bird-like shadow emerge from the alley to our right and pass directly over us. Pedestrians tried not to look directly into the camera as it scanned them.
“If you need,” Ani Ngawang suggested, “you can assist us at the temple for a few days.”
She was offering us shelter, a safe harbor in a sea of uncertainty. “No,” I said, “I’m afraid we’ll have to pass.” I appreciated the kindness, but there was no way I could live with myself if something bad came down on them or the animals in their care.
“The doctor will be there this morning,” the nun returned. “Perhaps this would be a good time for Nikie to get a checkup?”
Her hints weren’t exactly subtle. I was breathing funny from the pain in my back. Jennifer and I were both still bleeding. Still, there was the risk.
“Show us the way,” Jennifer interrupted. “We won’t be able to stay long, but we could use the assistance.”
“We shouldn’t,” I insisted.
She wasn’t having it. “Do I need to make it an order, Mr. Bell? We could use the medical treatment, and I’m not letting you carry Nikie across the city like that, smothering her under your vest. These women are offering us help, and we’re going to take it.”
There wasn’t much more to be said. Though it was Wright who was controlling the money, Ms. Nadee was effectively the boss in this situation. I had to go where she led, and I wasn’t in much of a condition to argue anyway.
Chapter 12
A twenty minute walk from my apartment, the most colorful carpet warehouse in town came into view. Poured concrete walls stretched thirty feet high, topped by an aluminum roof. Four roll up doors faced the street, and above them a great golden painting of the Buddha gazed down upon the street, eyes half closed in serene meditation.
Dozens of lines stretched from the outer walls to the surrounding buildings, tied to fire escapes, window planters, or whatever else was handy. From them hung brightly colored cloths in yellows, reds, blues, whites, and greens, waving their black letters in the breeze. Tradition held that these prayer flags carried the hopes of the Buddhists out to the universe, helping them to become manifest in the world.
“I honestly hadn’t realized there were any Buddhist temples in the city,” Jennifer said as we approached.
“Well, you’re not going to find them up on the Skyway,” I said, trying not to sound too hateful in my commentary about the disconnected elites.
“No. I suppose I wouldn’t.”
“We’re lucky to have them,” I added. “They do a lot of good work down here.”
We entered through a side door, removing the outer robes we had been loaned. I handed mine back to the nun who had wrapped it around me and thanked her. Jennifer passed hers back with slight bow. The nuns accepted them with similar bows and went about their business, taking their alms bowls toward the dining area.
“I’m sorry if we interrupted your alms rounds,” I said as Ani Ngawang led us into the building.
“Your lives are well worth the cost of a few hungry bellies for a day,” she responded. “Besides, once everything is shared around, no one will even notice.”
Ani Ngawang led us through the building. Along the western wall were a series of fenced off areas, each about twenty feet wide and thirty feet deep. The floors inside these fences were covered in layers of two foot wide random carpet samples laid over insulated backing to help keep the twenty or so animals in each enclosure warm. Also covered in the carpet samples that were once housed here were scratching posts, climbing trees, and warm little houses for the cats to snuggle up in.
Smaller areas on the far end were specifically set aside for nursing mother cats. Two or three mothers in each often shared nursing duties, raising their newborns communally. Occasionally, this saved the lives of orphaned kittens as well, as the mothers happily adopted those in need of their love. As soon as the kittens were old enough, a visit with the doctor insured that the population didn’t grow out of control. The mothers were also fixed when their nursing duties were done.
There were dogs here as well. Larger enclosures on the east wall each housed about ten dogs, separated by size and temperment. Jumping and playing on slatted floors through most of the day, they hardly had
any idea that this wasn’t the best life any animal could have. Two times a day, the monks and nuns took them on long walks through the city streets, making stops at the homes of the elderly or the sick to bring joy to their lives. For an hour each day the dogs attended class, learning basic obedience in exchange for what treats were left over from breakfast.
Down the center of the building were pallets of dog and cat food. Twenty pound bags were stacked like bricks, creating shoulder high towers, their contents waiting to be loaded into the gravity feeders attached to each enclosure. Every day, a monk or the occasional volunteer would go around hauling bags to pass out food, before cleaning yesterday’s food out of the litter boxes attached to the back sides of the fences.
Nearing the far end, I noticed the long folding tables in the northeast corner. Bowls sat there on the plastic surfaces, slowly being filled by the returning residents of the temple. Items were removed from their alms bowls so they could be separated and shared evenly, breads in one bowl, meats in another, fruits and vegetables in a third. Where possible, Buddhists preferred to be vegetarians, but it was against tradition to refuse an offering. Much of the meat bowl on each table was left to be used as treats for the cats and dogs in their care.
Ani Ngawang drew our attention to a screened off area in the north-west corner. Nothing was visible beyond the white cloth and steel frames of the jointed partition walls, but a wide, red cloth was hung over one.
“It appears the doctor is currently in surgery,” Ani Ngawang said. “When she is finished, she should have time to see you. Have you eaten, yet?”
“I--we really wouldn’t want to impose,” I said.
“It’s no imposition,” she said, “and you’ll need your strength.” The words were kind, but there was a finality to them, a kind of motherly undertone that suggested she would tolerate no argument.
She led us to the table and sat us down amongst the monks and nuns. They greeted us with smiles and nods, which we returned. Metal plates were passed down the line, each of us passing them along until all were provided for. The bowls were passed next, each person taking just a bit until each person had enough. I happily took the crispy strips of bacon I found from the meat bowl and set them beside my scrambled eggs and rice.
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