Point Blank

by Fern Michaels

  Jack mentally had himself in Harry’s position, knowing exactly what his next move was going to be. Harry went for the Ridgehand Strike and hit Wing Ping squarely on the head, knocking the weird-looking cowboy hat to the floor. Dennis quickly kicked it out of the way as Harry followed up with a Reverse Punch and clipped Wing Ping with the palm of his hand right below his chin. Wing Ping went down but was up in an instant. Harry went with a Front Thrust Kick but was taken down with Wing Ping’s Side Snap Kick.

  “Get up, Harry! Don’t make me help you out, you wuss,” Jack bellowed. Harry staggered to his feet and let loose with a Roundhouse Kick that sent Wing Ping sailing across the room. Wing Ping scrambled to his feet and literally skidded across the room, his side punch missing Harry by a hair. Harry whirled about, then was in the air, his legs spread wide to clinch Wing Ping between his knees. Both men landed with a loud thump on the cold tile floor, but Harry’s hold on Wing Ping’s neck never faltered. Wing Ping gagged and struggled to breathe. He managed somehow to bring one hand up in a feeble gesture to tap Harry on the arm, the sign that he surrendered. Harry nodded but didn’t release immediately.

  Cooper barked. Jack yelled to release. Yoko screamed at Harry, telling him not to kill his opponent. Finally, Harry released his hold on Wing Ping and rocked back on his heels. “Killing you is too good. Let someone else do it. Here’s the thing, Wing Ping. I gave you the chance to ride off into the sunset the way American cowboys do, but you opted for this. Somebody tie up this piece of trash!” he bellowed.

  “Wait! Wait!” Harry said. “Somebody record this, please.” Ted held up his phone and nodded.

  “You killed Jun Yu, didn’t you? Say it, you bastard, I want to hear the words. Nikki, show him the poker!” Wing Ping tried to shrivel into himself as the poker was lowered to the soft spot between his legs.

  “I didn’t! I didn’t! Wei Ming killed him. It wasn’t me,” Wing Ping screamed.

  From the other side of the room, the invader who must have been Wei Ming bellowed at the top of his lungs, “You ordered me to do it. I just followed your orders. I believed you, you rat-faced weasel. You said this was a piece of cake, a walk in the park, all those American terms you love so much, along with that stupid hat and boots. You hated Jun Yu, tell them. You wanted me to kill his wife and children, too. You tried to kidnap Harry Wong’s daughter.”

  “Tell me that what Wei Ming said is true, Wing Ping, or you get the poker. Someone pull his pants down.” Kathryn gladly obliged. “One more chance or you’re branded for life.”

  Nikki’s hand, holding the red-hot poker, slowly descended, at which point Wing Ping screamed, “It’s true. You’re no warrior, Wong Guotin. If you were, you would have defended your honor and killed me. You’re a coward,” he spat.

  All Harry could do was shake his head in disgust.

  Yoko was having none of it. “If my husband is a coward, why is he standing while you’re on the floor staring up at him?” In a voice none of them had ever heard from Yoko before, she looked at Nikki and Kathryn, and said, “Give him something to remember us by.”

  Neither Nikki nor Kathryn had to be told twice. Both red-hot pokers came down at the same time. The smell of burning flesh filled the room before they danced away, wicked grins on their faces. Yoko gave a thumbs-up, to her husband’s chagrin. Then he relaxed and whispered in his wife’s ear. She smiled from ear to ear.

  Harry looked down at Cooper. “Okay, it’s done. I want my daughter!”

  Brother Hung stepped forward. “She is on her way. She should be here by first light. She is well and looking forward to seeing all of you. Especially this magnificent animal named Cooper.”

  Cooper lowered his head in a low bow, it seemed to everyone. “You’re a big ham, Cooper!” Jack said. The thought ricocheted around his brain in a second—It takes one to know one. Cooper barked and barked as he strutted around the great dining hall, enjoying the praise everyone heaped on his furry shoulders before he found a spot under the table. This time he closed his eyes and truly went to sleep.

  “What’s our next move?” Maggie demanded.

  “Helping us fix our doors,” Brother Hung responded smartly.

  “I have a better idea,” Annie said just as smartly. “Since all of us here are constructurally challenged, how will it be if we leave enough money with you so that professional carpenters can repair these aged, beautiful doors.” Brother Hung was most gracious in his acceptance.

  “We need to get to Macau as soon as possible,” Annie said.

  “We leave the moment my daughter walks through what’s left of these doors,” Harry said. “We can help you shore up the doors in the meantime.” Once again, Brother Hung gracefully accepted Harry’s offer of help.

  “I guess it’s up to us women to restore this kitchen to what it was before we arrived,” Alexis said. “Not that our place is in the kitchen, it’s just that we do it better. Everyone agree?”

  “Damn straight,” Myra said.

  “First, before we do anything, I want a cup of coffee. I cannot drink that shitty tea one more time. I know there is coffee here somewhere, we just have to find it. Search, people!” Annie ordered.

  They finally found a can of American Maxwell House coffee behind a stack of wooden bowls in the large pantry. Annie smacked her lips as her taste buds went to work. “And the cream they have here is real.”

  It was all so real, they drank pot after pot until dawn started to break, at which point Cooper stirred and raced to the wide center hall.

  “Harry, I think your daughter is about to arrive. Cooper went out to greet her,” Annie said gently. She swore later that never in her whole life had she seen anything more beautiful than Harry’s and Yoko’s smiles.

  The young girl named Yuke Lok walked into the kitchen, holding Lily’s hand, Cooper at her side. They were in agony as they waited for the ritual that ensued, the graceful bows, the Chinese greetings, more bows, then Lily let loose with a whoop of joy, and screamed, “Mommieeee, Daddyeeeee!”

  There wasn’t a dry eye in the room. And then Lily was on Harry’s shoulders as he waltzed her around the room as she laughed and laughed. Cooper barked his pleasure when Lily was once more on the ground. She followed him over to the big table and crawled under it. She hugged the big dog and whispered to him as the others watched, somehow knowing that the dog was whispering right back.

  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.

  Epi
logue

  Though 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.