3. Vendetta

by Fern Michaels

  “I bought a plasma TV,” Nikki said.

  “I had to get a new transmission for my car,” Isabelle said.

  “Well, nothing is new in my life,” Yoko said. “I ordered two thousand poinsettias for the holidays. With Lu Chow helping us I will be able to get away for your mission, Myra. I owe you many thanks for allowing him to work at odd times for us. My husband likes him very much.”

  “That leaves you, Charles. Share with us what you’ve been up to,” Kathryn said.

  Charles chuckled. “I’ve been trying to amuse Myra because she missed you all so much. In my free time, I’ve been working on the details of her mission.”

  “Guess that means we’re all caught up. Let’s clear up this mess,” Nikki said, waving at the table, “so we can get down to business.”

  The war room, as they called it, was warm and cozy. Computer monitors lined the walls, along with television monitors tuned to the three major cable networks: CNN, MSNBC, and the Fox network. Directly in the women’s line of vision was an oversized monitor showing the scales of justice, with Lady Justice looking down on them.

  A soft whirring could be heard above the quiet tones on the televisions. A fortune in the latest high-tech equipment was at Charles’s fingertips. Some of the equipment was so advanced even the FBI didn’t have it. “Spare no expense, get the best so the girls are kept safe,” Myra had said. And Charles had done just that. He was Lord Supreme in this room and everyone knew it.

  Myra usually presided over the meetings, but as it was her mission that was to be discussed this evening, Nikki rose and addressed the group. “This is where we all give input after Myra tells us what she wants done to the man who killed Barbara. We all know he’s back in China and that’s our first hurdle. I personally don’t see any way to entice him back here, so that means we have to go there. We’ll have to figure out a way to do that, of course. First, though, I think Myra might want to say something. Myra, the floor is yours,” Nikki said, sitting down.

  Myra stood up, her legs wobbly. She grasped the edge of the table with both hands as she stared around at the women who were now like daughters to her. They were her family and she knew that, no matter what she asked of them, they would do it if humanly possible. How much should she ask of them? Going to a foreign country to seek her vengeance seemed extreme. Still, there really was no other way to punish her daughter’s killer. She looked from one to the other, recognizing each one’s particular strength. If anyone could help her, it was these five beautiful, talented women, each with her own cause.

  Myra licked at her dry lips. “I…My quest for justice is going to be dangerous for all of you. I don’t know if I have the courage to ask you to…to help me. I won’t be offended if you want to opt out of my mission. Somehow, someway, I’ll get justice for my daughter. What I’m trying to say is, if anything happened to any of you, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. This won’t be anything like Kathryn’s or Julia’s missions.

  “You all know Charles’s background, and we’ll be operating in his field of expertise. But none of you are Charles and none of you are like the operatives he worked with when he was in Her Majesty’s service. Right away, that puts us all at a disadvantage.”

  Kathryn, always the most vocal of the group, squawked her displeasure at what Myra was saying. “Myra, Myra, you’re forgetting something. We’re women! That alone gives us an edge! I rest my case.” Everyone cheered, including Charles. Myra grinned from ear to ear.

  “Well said, Kathryn. You are forgiven, dear. How stupid of me to forget women can do anything they set their minds to. I think I might be a little overwhelmed at this point. Now, let’s decide how we are going to take care of Mr. John Chai, my daughter’s killer.”

  “If Julia was here she could do a little slice and dice with a very dull knife. But since she isn’t here, I’ll volunteer to do the honors, and if he bleeds to death, oh, well,” Alexis said.

  “That’s too good for him. He needs to suffer. His father needs to suffer for protecting him. Let’s see what Charles has come up with.”

  Charles shuffled through the papers in front of him. When he had them in order, images appeared on the screen as Lady Justice faded away. “This is John Chai.” A second picture appeared. “This is Chai Ming, China’s former Ambassador to the United States. He is retired now and living in Hong Kong. From what I’ve been able to garner from my sources, Chai Ming has a pretty tight rein on his playboy son.” Charles sought Myra’s eye. “I haven’t been able to find any evidence of employment of any kind. I would assume he’s living off the largesse of his father, Chai Ming. John’s Harvard education was a waste.”

  “Is he still covered under the law of diplomatic immunity even though his father is retired?” Yoko asked.

  “Yes, but he cannot return to the United States for fear of reprisals, that sort of thing. It’s obvious the man stays close to home under his father’s supervision. Sooner or later, he’s going to wander off the reservation. It’s a given that he will not return here to America. That means we will bring him here. Unwillingly, of course.”

  The women gasped as one. “You mean we’re going to go to China and…and…”

  “Snatch the son of a bitch?” Kathryn said. “Yep, that’s what it means all right.”

  “Tell us how we are going to get inside China, snatch this guy, and get back out,” Nikki demanded. “I would think the Chai family are watched as closely as our Secret Service agents watch over our retired politicians.”

  Charles nodded. “You’re right, Nikki, but in China they are watched even more closely. I can’t swear to this, but I do know how the Chinese think in these matters. It’s doubtful Ming’s own eye is on his son. There are hundreds of eyes on him. They don’t want any kind of scandal that will make them lose face. Family is very important. Respect of one’s family is paramount.”

  Myra’s eyes pooled with tears. “If it’s impossible, why are we even discussing the matter? Why was I so foolish to think we could finally get to…that…hellish person?”

  “Myra, dear, it is not impossible to get to John Chai. However, it will be a very dangerous and difficult mission for all of us. We are going to need a lot of outside help.”

  “What kind of help?” Isabelle asked nervously.

  “Chinese help. In…ah…in my other life, I made friends with some very unlikely people. People that I was forced to depend on to stay alive. One develops, over time, instincts where people are concerned. I have a friend named Su Zhow Li. He got me out of a rather horrid situation and then I was able to save his life later on. He is probably in his mid-seventies by now if he is still alive. I haven’t been able to renew old friendships since moving here. That was one of the conditions of my transfer from England to America. I’m now willing to ignore that condition.

  “Li was born in China but spent many years living in England. His father was British, his mother came from a very well-to-do Chinese family. In the early fifties, as some of you may know, China undertook a massive economic and social reconstruction program. China’s new leaders curbed inflation by restoring the economy, and rebuilt many of its war-damaged industrial plants.” It had been years since Li told him this story and Charles wondered if he was remembering everything correctly.

  “China’s new leaders, with their new-found authority, wedged their way into almost every phase of Chinese life. It worked for a few years, then Mao Zedong, founder of the People’s Republic, broke away from the Soviet model of Communism and announced what he thought of as an even better economic system. They called it the Great Leap Forward. The goal was to raise industrial and agricultural production. They formed communes. People had factories in their back yards. It was disastrous because the normal market mechanisms were disrupted and so agricultural production fell behind. The Chinese people exhausted themselves by producing what later turned out to be shoddy goods that were not fit for sale.”

  “Tell me about it,” Yoko grumbled. “I wouldn’t buy something that s
aid ‘made in China’ for all the tea in China.” She giggled at her witticism.

  “Bad timing, poor planning, whatever you want to call it, the Chinese people were starving. Around this time, Li’s family sought passage to his homeland.”

  Charles knew he’d piqued the women’s interest when Kathryn asked, “How did they manage to get out of China?”

  Charles grinned wryly. “Very carefully, that’s how. Li never gave me all the details, but he did say it was a long, dangerous journey. Li’s mother had connections and money. They finally arrived in England and amassed a fortune in silks. Li was sent to America and graduated from Harvard at the top of his class. He is a brilliant man. Years and years later, he returned to Hong Kong a very wealthy man.”

  “Is he going to help us?” Nikki asked.

  “Patience, my dear, patience,” Charles said.

  Myra banged her clenched fist on the table. “I have no patience, Charles. Please, get to the point. Do you have a plan?” Her tone of voice said quite clearly that Charles had better have a plan.

  Evidently Charles thought so, too. “The reason I brought up my old friend Li is because he has a private airstrip outside of Hong Kong.”

  The silence in the room was palpable as the women digested Charles’s words. That brought it all front and center. They were going to China.

  “I’m waiting for Li to contact me via a scrambled phone. I’ll have more details as soon as I hear from him.” Charles looked around from one to the other. They all looked worried, except Myra who was smiling serenely. “This…caper…will test your skills to the fullest.”

  “Like hacking off the balls of three guys didn’t take skill!” Kathryn hooted, referring to their first mission. The others clapped their hands in agreement. “And let’s not forget those creeps we just sent off to Africa. Skill is knowing what to do at precisely the right moment. As women, we have a honed instinct that allows us to improvise in a heartbeat.”

  The women clapped again. Myra clapped the loudest, her eyes bright and shiny.

  Two

  It was a storefront office nestled between a Blockbuster video store and a Radio Shack in a strip mall in McLean, Virginia. The sign was a simple brass plate with black lettering that said JUSTICE AGENCY. The door was locked, the blinds closed.

  The hour was late, way past the Justice Agency’s normal closing hour, which was any time of the day or night. Tonight was an exceptionally late night because neither Jack Emery nor Mark Lane was in a hurry to brave the cold outside and return to the apartment they shared to cut down on expenses. Both men had their feet propped on their desks as they sipped at their beer.

  “This private dick business isn’t so bad,” Mark said. “We made eight thousand, six hundred dollars in the last six weeks. What that means is we get a nice little bonus this week. We have two prospective clients who are sitting on the fence. I think we’re doing damn good for just getting started in the business. Hell, Jack, with all these programs I installed on our computers, we hardly have to leave the office. Our biggest expense is those guys we hired to tail your buddies out at ye olde Pinewood farm.”

  Jack swigged from his beer bottle. His feet thumped down on the floor. “Five months and there’s been no word on Senator Webster or his wife, Dr. Webster. No one but Nikki has gone near the farm. That’s the same MO they used when Marie Lewellen disappeared on my watch. They lie low, let the smoke settle, and then those damn women spring up like jack-in-the-boxes.”

  “They were all at the farm today except for Dr. Webster,” Mark said.

  “What? You’re just telling me this now?” Jack exploded.

  “Look, hot shot, it came just this minute in this email. Garrity is reporting in. All of them except Dr. Webster got there around seven o’clock. It’s almost midnight and they’re still there. Guess they’re going to spend the night. Garrity says the house is dark.”

  “Son of a bitch! Didn’t I tell you? They lie low, wait four or five months, and then they meet up. Then…then they do something. Right this damn minute they’re in there hatching and planning. I know it! I feel it! We have to figure out a way to plant some bugs in that house.”

  “Forget it. Those Dobermans are still out there and there’s no way I’m messing with that guy Charles Martin. You want another visit from those guys with the shields?” Mark winced, remembering the elite presidential task force that had beaten Jack within an inch of his life for interfering with Charles Martin.

  Jack ignored the rhetorical question as he looked across his desk at his friend, the ex-FBI agent. “Something has been bothering me for a long time now. I couldn’t get a handle on it. It was something I knew I should remember but couldn’t, that kind of thing. I finally remembered it, Mark. There is a way into Pinewood.”

  Mark grimaced. “Don’t go there, Jack. Please.”

  “No, no. Listen. The tunnels. That’s our way in and out. Nikki and Barbara used to play in the tunnels when they were children. Nikki told me that Myra hung bells at the different intersections so they wouldn’t get lost. In the old days they used to spirit out the slaves to a safe place by way of the tunnels. Nikki said there was an exit in the barn and one tunnel that went all the way to some other farmhouse. I can’t remember which house it was, though. I can’t be sure, but I think she said the other people closed their section off. Shit, I wish I could remember exactly what she said. If we can figure it out, we can get in that way.”

  Mark stared at a seascape hanging on the wall across the room. “What’s with that we stuff? I’m not crawling through any two-hundred-year-old tunnels. I’m strictly a computer nerd who’s willing to do surveillance from time to time. In addition, I’m claustrophobic. You’re nuts, Jack!”

  “Yeah, well, if you can come up with a better way to get inside, I’m all ears. We’re just spinning our wheels here. If we can’t get inside we might as well give it all up. I’m not willing to do that. I know I’m right about those women. You know I’m right about those women. Those guys who beat me up know I’m on to something where those chicks are concerned, otherwise they wouldn’t have threatened me and then almost killed me. I’m willing to do the breaking and entering. I just need you to cover my ass.”

  “I can do that. Cover your ass, I mean.”

  “Good. Now, before we leave, see if you can find out the best way to tranquilize those Dobermans. We’ll need to post Garrity out there on a permanent basis so he can tell us when everyone is out of the house. Don’t look at me like that, Mark, it’s all doable. I’m the one who will do it. This is it. I can feel it in my bones. Yahoo!”

  “Yeah, yahoo,” Mark said, clicking at the keys in front of him.

  Five miles away, even though the house was totally dark, the war room was alight not only with wattage, but also with smiles and hope.

  Charles walked among the women, handing out packets of information. “I want you all to familiarize yourselves with China. I want you to understand the people, the customs and the terrain. I’m going to say this once and then I won’t mention it again. If any one of you feels this is above and beyond what you’ve all signed up to do, you can withdraw now and none of us here will hold it against you.” He waited for a response. What he got was a group nod, which meant that they were all in and no one wanted out.

  They jumped as one when Charles’s encrypted phone rang. No one seemed surprised when Charles carried on his end of the conversation in Chinese. He truly was a man of many talents. All eyes were on Yoko to see if she was following the conversation. She was. She nodded from time to time before she held her thumb upright. She whispered in English, “We’re going. He will allow us to use his airstrip. They are making plans now.”

  “Oh, this is so wonderful. I can’t think of anything to say,” Myra bubbled.

  When Charles ended his call, he approached the sisters, the light of battle in his eyes. “We have a deal with Li, ladies. You leave for China tomorrow afternoon. Li will clear the way for us. That’s all I’m going to say at the m
oment. In the morning, I’ll have a plan all worked out. It’s late, get a good night’s rest. We’ll meet up again in the morning.”

  Myra stayed behind, her face puckered with worry. “The deal, Charles — will it keep the girls safe?”

  Charles looked down into the eyes of the woman he’d loved all his life. He could no more tell her a lie than he could stop breathing. “I don’t know, Myra. Li is an honorable man. I believe he will do everything in his power to make things right for us. It’s the best I can do, my darling. The girls are willing to take the risk.”

  “I think we should go with them, Charles. At least I want to go.”

  “Out of the question. No, Myra, I mean it. No is no.”

  “I think I’ll go anyway. Goodnight, Charles. Oh, I mean it, too.”

  The following morning Charles Martin, the man of many talents, looked at the skimpy breakfast he was setting out for Myra’s guests. He almost felt ashamed. Almost.

  The small group trickled into the kitchen, where they all looked at the toasted muffins, sliced oranges and bananas, juice and coffee. They didn’t say a word as they picked up their paper plates and paper napkins. Charles apologized for the meager fare and throwaway dishes. No one seemed to care, even Myra, who was a stickler for a well-set table and fine food. Lunch, Charles explained, was going to be worse. Bologna and cheese sandwiches. Maybe some pickles and chips if they had them. The women did groan about that.

  “Eat up, ladies. We’ll meet in the war room in exactly,” he looked at his watch — “twenty-five minutes.” Then he was gone. Murphy barked at this strange behavior. He continued to bark, wondering where the bacon was, his share of the pancakes, or the eggs everyone usually slipped him. Kathryn refused to feed him dog food, saying he ate what she ate. Murphy even liked beer and could belch with the best of them.