Truth or Dare

by Fern Michaels

  Charles weighed her words. “Go, but take Ted or Dennis with you. No one goes alone anywhere from here on out. Except Harry. When you get to your house, call here, leave the line open but have your messenger in place in the lobby of the Sofitel so he can turn it over to the Karas brothers’ security team. Tell the messenger his orders are to wait fifteen minutes for a response. If there is no response, he is to leave, and the invitation is null and void. Word it however you like, but just be sure they understand there is a deadline for the luncheon tomorrow.”

  Maggie and Ted were up and out the door within moments. She called over her shoulder, “Rain stopped. I can see some sun out toward the highway!”

  “There doesn’t seem to be anything for me to do here, so if you all don’t mind, I’m going out to the barn to see my kids. When it’s time for us to leave, they are going to miss all the animals. Andy formed a real attachment to one of the cats, and he calls him Baby Boo. He carries him everywhere and asked for a basket because sometimes he gets heavy. That’s another memory I might have missed if I weren’t here. I don’t know how to thank all of you. I know, I know, I keep saying that, but I feel like I have to say it.”

  “Go see your children,” Charles said gently. “Take this tray of brownies for them and let me whisk up a container of juice.”

  Allison stood by the door, straining to see the ray of sunlight Maggie said she saw. It wasn’t visible to her eyes, but then she saw a glimmer. She smiled just as Charles handed her two shopping bags. “I put their lunch in there, too. I don’t think it’s a good idea for them to be here in the house right now, with so much getting ready to go down. Call me from time to time so I can update you. You’ll be able to hear when Harry arrives with our guests and when Maggie returns. Then you join us.”

  Jack poured himself a cup of coffee as soon as the door closed behind Allison. Cyrus got up and went to the door, Lady right behind him with her pups. All exited in an orderly procession. They were back ten minutes later, their paws muddy and wet.

  “I’ll clean them up. It will give me something to do while we wait, and yes, Charles, I will then wash the towels,” Dennis said. At Cyrus’s bark, he hastened to add that he would also fold them when they were dry.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever been so bored in my entire life,” Jack groused. “If I drink any more coffee, I’ll be bouncing off the ceiling. Ask Snowden what’s going on out there.”

  “It’s breakfast time out there, as you well know, while we’re approaching the lunch hour. This is simply dead time. Accept it, there are no other options at this time.”

  Jack continued to grumble, much to Cyrus’s dismay. He growled and shifted position. Translation: Either do something or keep quiet. Jack opted for the latter as he let his mind wander to Harry’s meeting with the Triad. He looked at his watch. If the Chinese flight was on time, it should have landed or be about to land. He envied Harry right at that moment.

  * * *

  Harry stood off at a distance as he waited for the sleek new Gulfstream to land at the international terminal. The sun, which was now out in full force, shone down on the aircraft skin, making it sparkle like a huge diamond. Harry wondered how much it had cost. Not that he cared, but he was curious. He knew he had a good fifteen minutes until the aircraft came to a complete stop, and the passengers were permitted to disembark. Then he had to escort said passengers to customs unless Ky had somehow made other arrangements.

  Harry Wong was good at waiting. He simply withdrew into his inner core and let peace reign through his body. He could stand in his present position for hours on end and not move a muscle. While he could do that, he elected not to. He wanted to see what he called the grand finale, the Triad tripping off the plane to step onto American soil.

  Harry ticked off the minutes in his head until the sound of powerful engines whined down to pure silence. Five more minutes passed before the shiny new doors opened, and a staircase was wheeled to the open door by airport workers. Two burly Chinese men, who looked like Sumo wrestlers, descended the steps, carrying portable wheelchairs. A third man followed. He watched as the chairs were unfolded and set in place. The three men looked at the approaching group of men, three Chinese and three American, the Americans dressed in airport security outfits. Customs, he thought. Or people with authority who could direct the newcomers to a safe haven. The burly men bowed respectfully before they headed back up the staircase.

  Five minutes later, the three men who had carried the wheelchairs down the stairs appeared in the open doorway. Each man carried a frail, elderly Chinese man. Harry, who did his best not to laugh, thought they looked like Chinese mummies with their long, straggly gray hair and mustaches that reached to midchest. All wore thick glasses, thicker than the proverbial Coke bottle glasses so often referred to.

  The three ancients wore colorful kimonos festooned with gold-embroidered dragons on the sleeves and lapels. Their heads were lowered to avoid the glare of the sun. Harry did notice that their hands were not visible but tucked into the wide sleeves of their kimonos. He giggled to himself. That Ky, he was such a prankster.

  The three men settled the ancients in the wheelchairs, then handed over all the required documentation to the three American officials while the three Chinese men bowed and chanted something that sounded like pure bullshit to Harry’s ears.

  No one moved, there was no dialogue. One of the Americans pulled a rubber stamp out of an envelope he had carried in his pocket. He stamped and stamped and then stamped some more. Or else, Harry thought, the stamp ran out of ink. Regardless, the three ancients were free to go but not before there were more bows, more head bobbing.

  Harry raced over to the van that would take the Triad to the ring road that would lead them out to the highway. He slid open the panel door, yelled to the driver that he would meet them three miles down the road at the Mobile gas station.

  “What! What!” Ky screeched. “What happened to ‘Great performance, you could have fooled me, man, you are one crafty son of a bitch’?”

  Harry gave an airy wave as he sprinted off to the parking area, where he had left Jack’s BMW. He almost choked on his own laughter.

  Seventeen minutes passed before the panel van careened into the Mobile station. Harry got out of Jack’s car, which he had parked next to a Dumpster.

  To Harry’s surprise, it was a boisterous, warm-and-fuzzy greeting, with lots of back slapping, cheek kissing, and high fives. “What happened to bowing to my superiority?” Harry asked.

  “We don’t do that shit anymore, bro. Only the ancients hold to the old ways. We do it in their presence to show respect. We walk and talk just like you do over here in this wilderness. We’re the new breed, or haven’t you heard? Is that your car?” Ky asked, pointing to Jack’s BMW. “I was expecting a Bentley,” he cackled.

  “Where’s your gear?” Harry asked.

  “What gear? You think because we’re Chinese we travel with that crap we make for your people. You’re looking at it,” he said, touching a nylon backpack that looked fully loaded to Harry’s eyes. “Now that we’re rich, we can buy whatever we want when we need it. By the way, I’d appreciate some walking-around money. Free and trust goes a long way, but when you need clean underwear, you need money to buy it. It’s a deal breaker, Harry. And you more than anyone should know it pays to travel light.”

  “So what are we waiting for, a bus, a train, or are we leaving in this kiddy car?” Ling asked.

  “Another comedian. Just what I need. Get your asses in there, and we can be on our way,” Harry growled.

  Inside the car, the Triad turned serious, the fun and guy talk over. Now it was down to business. “Talk to us. Tell us where we’re going, what we can expect, and what you want the outcome to be. We like to think about things a bit, you know, run them up the flagpole to see if we think they will fly. You got your side down pat?”

  “Pretty much.” Harry explained about Snowden and the California connection with Duke Callahan and his global secur
ity business. “With the three-hour time difference, it confuses things. Reaching the Karas brothers can’t be done until the cell tower goes down. Time. Everything takes time.”

  “I’ve heard of him and his company. He’s got a sterling reputation. Harry, were you bullshitting me when you told me you guys were the ones who took down the Internet? How the hell did you do that? I thought only a terrorist organization or something like that could actually do it. You must travel these days with some mighty powerful dudes. How’d that happen, Harry? Seriously, I want to know.”

  “If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”

  “Don’t you mean try to kill me?”

  “No. I meant what I said. Knowledge isn’t always a good thing. Old Confucius saying,” Harry said, and laughed.

  “You’re such a dick, Harry. I don’t want to know anyway because if I did know, I might lose sleep over it, and I sleep pretty good as it is.”

  “You should get married and have some kids,” Harry said. “Give some thought to who is going to take care of you when you become one of the ancient ones. Paying someone to take care of you is a lot different from a family member who does it because they love you. You guys are rich now; save that money for down the road. Just between us, I heard some talk about if we’re successful, they’re willing to throw in a bonus.”

  “Okay, Dad,” Ky drawled. “Bonus is a word. A word I happen to love, but it does need clarification. We need to hear a dollar amount. Seriously, Harry, I hear you. We all hear you. We talked about it on the plane nonstop. We have a plan for when we get back home. Don’t worry about us. We’re just yakking here for fun.”

  Harry wasn’t sure if he believed his old friend or not. Maybe it was better that he didn’t know, but he did respond to the question: “Another million each. Good old U.S. currency. No taxes. No paper trail. Clean as a whistle. Think about that. What that means is don’t go pissing off my people.

  “We’re almost there. Another five miles, and you get to meet everyone.”

  The minute Harry approached the gates, he could hear all the dogs barking. The gates opened wide, and he roared through, blasting the horn three sharp blasts. The kitchen door opened, and everyone inside the house piled out to greet the newcomers.

  Introductions were made. Hands were shaken. Eye contact was made. Out of the corner of his eye, Jack could see Allison Bannon sprinting toward them from the barn. Harry introduced her.

  Lady and her pups decided they weren’t needed, so they moved off to their special places to take care of business. Not so Cyrus, who stood glued to Jack’s side. Jack could feel the big dog quivering. It was clear to him that Cyrus didn’t know what to make of the strange newcomers who had just arrived.

  “So this is our team?” Ky said.

  Harry pointed to Jack, then Allison, then tapped his own chest. A yip from Cyrus made him grin. “And our canine friend here. His name is Cyrus. All told, we are a seven-man team. I told you that on the phone.”

  “You didn’t tell us the seventh member was a damn dog,” Ling said.

  “Well, I’m telling you now,” Harry shot back.

  “No dogs!” Momo said. “They get in the way. No dogs!”

  Cyrus literally started to vibrate. Oh, shit, Jack thought. Here we go.

  Harry eyeballed Ky, the undisputed leader of the Triad, who was looking back at him, a strange expression on his face. “Well! Is there a problem? The dog goes, or we scratch the deal. That means no dollars, and you’ll have to give back the plane. It’s a no-brainer.”

  “Prove he’s a warrior,” Ling snarled, stepping forward.

  Harry let loose with a loud sigh. “Oh, man, you really don’t want to go there, do you? Correct me if I’m wrong here. You want to go up against this dog. Is that what you’re saying?” He looked at Ky for confirmation. Ky simply rolled his eyes and shrugged.

  Ling stepped into the middle of the courtyard and waited. Jack walked Cyrus to the dueling position. He leaned down and whispered in the big dog’s ears, “This isn’t shits and giggles, Cyrus. I know you know this, but it never hurts to hear it again. It’s the eyes. Never take your eyes off your adversary. Never. And remember this, he only has two legs, you have four. Buck-ass naked, the guy weighs maybe one-forty. You have the edge, and you have those beautiful teeth I brush every day. Remember the eyes. I’m going to stand back now. Make me proud, big guy.”

  Team Cyrus moved to be closer to Jack. Eyes wide, they watched as Ling approached Cyrus. Cyrus didn’t move. He waited, stone still. They could all hear Ling muttering some gobbledygook that didn’t faze Cyrus at all. He just stood stiff and tall.

  A blue jay took that moment to swoop across the courtyard, and it was all Cyrus needed. Team Cyrus watched a black streak hit the air as though it were going to chase the blue jay. Instead, powerful jaws locked on Ling’s neck in less than a nanosecond. The two Triad members let loose with a shrill “Eiowww!” Team Cyrus clapped, whistled, and stamped their feet.

  “Release!” Jack said. Cyrus obeyed and sprinted to stand next to his master. Ling dropped to the ground, stunned.

  “Beautiful, buddy, just beautiful!” Jack said loud enough for everyone to hear.

  Team Cyrus waited. Would the Triad feel shame? Would they walk away?

  Ling got up off the ground. He massaged his neck. Not a drop of blood. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He trotted over to Cyrus and dropped to his knees, so he could be eye level. “You are a true warrior. I bow to you in respect. You have my admiration.” He bowed low a second time.

  Cyrus dipped his head and accepted the accolade. Then he nudged Ling to get up. He held out one of his massive paws. Translation: This is the U.S. We shake hands here. Ling held out his hand.

  “And he understands Greek, and he can bark in Greek, too. And, he can fold towels,” Dennis said as proudly as if he were the one who had trained the dog.

  “This is true, Harry? I get the Greek part, but folding towels!” Ky said, awe and admiration ringing in his voice.

  “Hell yes! I told you this was no Mickey Mouse production.”

  “Speaking of Mickey Mouse, is Disney World still on the table?” Ky laughed.

  Harry just rolled his eyes. That Ky was such a card sometimes.

  The gang moved then to return to the house. Jack lagged behind with Cyrus. “Buddy, you made me feel so proud today. I don’t have the words to tell you what a great job you did, and you didn’t even break the skin.” Jack dropped to his knees and looked Cyrus in the eye. “That guy Ling, he’s really good. They’re all good. When he said you were a true warrior, he meant it. Now when we go back to see Dr. Pappas, we’ll have a story to tell him. He’s going to love the compliment Ling gave you. We won’t mention the blue jay. Then again, any diversion is a plus for our side.”

  Cyrus nuzzled Jack under the chin. He let loose with a series of soft yips that could have meant anything. Whatever it was, Jack knew that his dog loved him. That was all that mattered. As they strolled back to the house side by side, Jack said, “It’s the eyes. The window to the soul. The eyes tell us everything.”

  Cyrus entered the kitchen ahead of Jack to celebrity status as the three Chinese wanted to know everything there was to know about him. He allowed himself to be petted, scratched, and belly rubbed along with taking a few offered treats until he had had enough. He took his place under the table and waited for Charles to serve lunch.

  He dropped off to sleep, knowing he was a true warrior.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Avery Snowden, Duke Callahan at his side, strolled down the broken and cracked sidewalk or what had once been a sidewalk. They stopped from time to time to look at the various stalls full of junk being peddled.

  Avery suddenly yanked Duke into a dark-looking alleyway that smelled of things better not spoken of. “It’s Charles. He says another five minutes, and the cell tower will be going down. We should head back.” The time was 11:20.

  “If Senora Santos is being truthful with us, then Mez
aluma should be leaving his house about now for the twenty-five-minute walk to the church. We need to be in place long before he gets there for lunch. Did she say how long the Mass is?” Callahan asked.

  “Thirty minutes. She said he arrives around twelve-forty and has his first glass of sangria while he waits for her to bring his tamales. Along with his second glass of sangria. We need to move, chop chop,” Snowden said, his gaze sweeping the street for anything out of the ordinary. Everything looked the same as it had yesterday and an hour ago.

  The two men were traveling the back alleys so that they could enter the bodega by the back entrance. They opened the door quietly and stepped into the kitchen. Senora Santos looked up but said nothing as she worked on the tamales she was making. A huge pitcher of sangria sat on a small table near the doorway, a glass next to it.

  Avery reached into one of the pockets in his cargo pants and brought out a vial. He emptied it into the pitcher. He looked around for something to stir it with but couldn’t see anything so he dipped his entire hand in the pitcher and swirled the pink-looking liquid around and around, liking the sound of the clinking ice cubes.

  “Not that it matters, but when was the last time you washed your hands?” Callahan grinned.

  “Probably sometime yesterday, seeing as how we were up all night and neither one of us showered. You worried about germs or something?”

  “Nah, just making conversation.”

  Snowden put his index finger to his lips for Callahan to be quiet, and held up the phone so both could hear Charles say, “Tower will go down in precisely eighty-six seconds.”

  Snowden started mouthing the numbers, his eyes on Senora Santos’s cell phone, which he had turned on minutes ago and was lying in plain view on a butcher-block table. He almost let loose with a loud whistle when he saw the face turn gray. “Done!” he hissed to Callahan.