The Noah Reid Action Thriller Series: Books 1-3 (plus special bonuses)

by Wesley Robert Lowe

  Chin made a cell phone call. “Duke, get half a dozen of our best ready. We’re going to war.” He turned back to Stella. “Someone will pick you up shortly. Don’t disappoint me.”

  Stella could feel the fire burning already. “I won’t.”

  Chapter 30

  Noah had incredible powers of concentration. Even though Olivia was less than ten feet away from him, Noah focused only on his tasks at hand.

  He was learning nothing new about Golden Asia. In addition to the reams of paper Garret gave him, he had also gone through the USB files and trolled the Internet.

  All the documentation from Pittman Saunders indicated that Golden Asia was a conservative, straight-as-an-arrow group of companies involved in real estate and the import and export businesses. Tommy was the only officer listed on all the companies, either as president, chief executive officer or board chairman. Garret had the power of attorney to act on Tommy’s behalf. Taxes were always paid on time; accounting records were sterling. While some marginal Internet websites indicated that there may be some underhanded dealings from the company, nothing had been substantiated and fell more into the category of jealous rumors from competition rather than fact. The truth was, there was no way for anyone to find out the inner workings of Golden Asia because it was completely privately held. There was no fiduciary obligation to release hardly any information at all.

  Noah found even less real info on Chin, but what little there was seemed to indicate that he was a ruthless gang leader. Again, nothing concrete and, furthermore, there was nothing linking Chin Chee Fok to Golden Asia. Noah had tried a variety of spellings, different order of words, but nothing that came close to Chin Chee Fok was remotely revealing. There was something disturbing, though. When Noah tried to follow up with the authors who published material on Chin, none could be contacted. Emails bounced back, phone numbers were disconnected and a number of the writers had vanished or died mysterious deaths.

  There was, however, a ton of stuff about Tommy. About his extravagance, from the fifteen-million-dollar mansion to his extensive collection of rare whiskies to his legendary gambling habits of losing and winning several millions in a day to his womanizing of the most beautiful starlets in Asia. What was maddening, though, was that while there was considerable mention of his connection with Golden Asia, there was really nothing available that described what Golden Asia was involved in other than the mention of the import and export businesses and real estate ventures.

  At 5 p.m., Olivia looked up from her desk. “Good night, Noah. I’m going to get Abby and spend the night at her place.”

  “Have a good night,” replied Noah automatically and he went right back to work.

  It was completely frustrating. Taking a new tact, he decided to check the news. Maybe there was a clue somewhere about Tommy’s grisly execution.

  You’ve got to be kidding. There was absolutely nothing about Tommy’s death, an astounding feat given that it happened in an open area with hundreds of people in the vicinity. There was no video, no cell phone pictures, no mention at all of his demise. It was as if it never happened.

  Noah surmised that the tentacles of the public relations department at the Tiger Palace reached into every part of public and private media in Hong Kong. Either that, or Chin’s staff was the most covert of covert operations, or Garret’s talents were wasted with Pittman Saunders and he should be made head of the CIA, Interpol and Mossad combined.

  It was 9:30 p.m. With his concentration degrading, he decided he would do what he always used to do whenever he was losing focus—spend time having Sifu kick the crap out of him.

  He got tsk-tsk looks from the other eager beavers as he donned his jacket and left. He didn’t care. He knew his biorhythms and, at that point, he was pretty well useless. Anyway, there was always tomorrow.

  Tie loosened, hair disheveled, stubble on his face... it had been a long day. Little did he know it was just beginning.

  Chapter 31

  Noah got off the bus in the grotty, familiar area. The driving pellets of water hadn’t let up much, and the sodden young man jogged through the narrow back alleys, passing seniors walking their pet birds in cages, vats of hot water in a temporary kitchen where a street vendor cooked noodles to order, a barber slathering shaving cream onto his customer in front of a smoke shop, and two ladies haggling over the price of a live chicken, until he reached the familiar unmarked building that was Master Wu’s studio.

  The foyer was empty. Noah put his briefcase down and removed his soaked clothes. He opened the briefcase and took out the bundle containing his martial arts uniform. He quickly changed, then sprinted into the main studio hall.

  Omigod.

  There, sparring with Master Wu, was about the last person he would have expected see―Pittman Saunders Senior Partner for the Asia Pacific Region, Garret Southam.

  Garrett emulated movements from the sun. Fiery masses of strength, breathtaking powerful moves. Left, right, center. High, low, medium. Unpredictable hand and feet combinations, yet each handled expertly with razor-sharp reflexes. Crossing arms with double kick out.

  Fire punched with hammer fists and sweeping leg motions. Straight directed blows like solar rays characterized each element. Like the sun, the punches and strokes radiated energy and domination.

  Each blow was masterfully parried with swift counterattacks, combinations of feet, hands and uppercuts. With a lightning series of palm thrusts to the head, hammer fists to the abdomen and a sweeping sideways kick coming from left, then right, Wu’s foot landed on the cheek of the unbalanced Garret, knocking him to the ground.

  Wu had just defeated a man twenty years younger and thirty pounds of muscle heavier. Wu pulled Garret up, and they made the Shaolin salute to each other—body upright, right hand clenched in a fist, left hand open and covering the right hand. The hands were placed in front of the chest and a bow from the waist followed.

  Garret turned to Noah. “Your turn?”

  “Didn’t know you saw me here.”

  “I see everything, Noah Reid.”

  Trying the element of surprise, Noah leapt with a spinning move, his left foot aimed at Garret’s head.

  Garret’s reflexes were fast and, with a quick forearm movement blow, he knocked aside Noah’s foot, sending him hopping to the side.

  Undeterred, Noah asked, “Do I get fired when I kick your ass?”

  “I fire people for kissing ass, not kicking ass,” snarled Garret.

  Noah charged in full frontal attack like a bull. Left, right, feint, attack.

  Garret fended off the combination as if swatting flies. He was angry. “You are so disappointing me, Reid. Let’s begin your education now.”

  Garret advanced with a ferocious assault of the Ten Form Fist. Noah crouched into a deep, low Horse stance, raising his hands with the Tiger claw. The wary Garret attacked Noah with blazing speed with the traditional animals of the Shaolin Temple: the Dragon, Snake, Leopard, Tiger and Crane were all on display. Adding insult to injury, Garret quickly assumed the same Horse stance that Noah did. However, before Noah could react, Garret knocked him down with ease.

  Master Wu screamed at Noah, “Harder!”

  “He hasn’t got it in him,” scoffed Garret.

  Noah panted, “I... do... so...”

  Garret launched an attack like a suicidal kamikaze pilot, throwing every micron of energy he had into every punch and kick. Noah was not intimidated and fought back. The rust disappeared, and Noah’s technique was superb—he matched Garret’s energy with his own focused attack.

  It was a small act of war with Hung Gar Tiger and Crane style of Shaolin kung fu as the weapon. It was a war of wills, war of strength, war of ability. Pinpoint attack at vital organs, pinpoint accuracy of defense from both experienced warrior and young Turk. When Garret as Tiger leapt to strike, Noah as Crane used his gentle, quick steps to keep his balance. With an intricate combination, Noah skillfully maneuvered in and was on the verge of conquest but, with the trem
endous flair of a raging feline, Garret grabbed Noah in midair and slammed him to the ground.

  Changing tactics, Garret changed to an older style of Hung Gar, and jumped into a wider stance with lightning-fast footwork, momentarily confusing Noah. A quick sidekick sent his younger opponent to the floor. As Noah rose, an arcing leap kick to his chest sent him sprawling, and he landed defeated on the floor. Garret put his foot on Noah’s neck, one strong thrust away from snapping it and ending Noah’s life. “You are so disappointing, Noah Reid.”

  Terror filled Noah’s eyes until Garret took his foot off his neck. Noah crawled to his knees. “Why do you care?”

  Garret glanced over to Master Wu, then to the young lawyer. “Because, Noah, one day, you are going to be me. And the stakes that I play with are not just some shadowboxing in some safe studio like this. I play for keeps. And, when we play for keeps... more than just your ego gets broken.”

  Master Wu glared at Garret, chastisement in his eyes. “You were young once, too, Garret. Have the same patience with Noah that I had for you.”

  “To be patient, you need time, Sifu. We don’t have a lot of that,” replied Garret.

  “But a river goes at the speed it goes, no matter how hard you try to force it to go faster.”

  “Stop!” shouted Noah, staring at Garret. “I’ve been wracking my brains since I saw you but now I remember who you are. You came to our apartment to see Master Wu, years ago.” I had a huge shiner but saw you out of the corner of my eye.”

  Noah, a scrawny thirteen-year-old boy with one helluva shiner, lay on the couch.

  Mary, his mother, carrying an ice pack, shook her head. “Master Wu, what am I going to do with Noah? He’s getting into all kinds of trouble with the things you teach him.” She put the cold plastic sac on Noah’s bruised eye.

  “I promise, Master Wu; I didn’t start it. Honest. Those were stealing Jenny’s buns, you know, the lady with the cart down the street. You know how hard she works. I couldn’t let them get away with it. Right? Right?”

  “Not exactly right, but it’s a start.”

  Noah turned his aching head toward Master Wu who had two men standing with him.

  Noah studied Garret. “One of them was you. Was the other Tommy Sung?”

  Master Wu nodded. “Yes.” He turned to Garret. “You can tell him now.”

  Garret cleared his throat, then lasered his eyes on Noah’s. “When I was young, there were three of us that wanted to take Hung Gar to the universe. Master Wu was our sifu. We failed miserably and we fell. Tommy, me and Chin Chee Fok.” Garret took out an old photo and pointed to Chin, trademark attitude and arrogance already in evidence.

  “That’s Chin?” gasped Noah. “I saw him at the airport. He chased and caught a tiger with his bare hands.”

  “Tommy and I joined his gang but, when we wanted out, he killed our wives.”

  “So what’s all this got to do with me?”

  “You are going to help me kill him.”

  Noah gulped.

  “Let’s go for a ride. I’m going to show you something.”

  Chapter 32

  After Garret and Noah left, Master Wu assumed the lotus position in the middle of his studio. He began meditating, praying and thinking. Now that Noah knew, the burden he carried for the young man grew heavier by the moment. The time is nigh.

  Chin entered with his posse silently. Wu sensed his presence, but his eyes remained closed. The grandmaster intoned quietly. “The superior man, even for the space of a single meal, does not act contrary to virtue. In moments of haste, in seasons of danger, he cleaves to it.”

  “Do you think you haven’t told me enough times that I wouldn’t remember the Analects of Confucius? Stop talking philosophy. You know why I am here.” Chin’s voice held menace.

  Master Wu opened his eyes and stood. “There will always be someone stronger. There will always be someone smarter. There will always be someone richer. This is a game you cannot win.”

  Chin shook his head. “I made mistakes years ago, but those are long forgotten. I learned my lesson then. But you have failed to progress. You live in yesterday. There is no glory of the Shaolin. There never was. There is only power.”

  “You think breaking someone’s neck or arm is power. You believe that inflicting pain on someone weaker than you shows strength.” Master Wu shook his head sadly. “That is why you can never be a true master. No one can apply strength to achieve virtue. Not you, not me.”

  “That was bullshit to me thirty years ago. It’s bullshit to me now,” Chin said, his voice relaxed.

  “You will not insult The Way,” said Master Wu with resolute conviction.

  “I will say whatever I will say,” smirked Chin, “and no one will stop me.”

  Both men sprang into the ready-for-battle martial arts stance. Chin snatched up a tufted spear and flung it at Master Wu’s head. Wu moved his head slightly, and the spear missed by a quarter of an inch. With an agility beyond mortals, Wu made a flying handspring to an ax by the wall. He pulled it smoothly from its holder and launched it at Chin. Spinning like a maddened whirligig, it flew through the air.

  Chin’s men stood in awe, not only of their master, but of the old man who had taught him. They had never witnessed such a powerful demonstration and their blood ran hot.

  With reflexes sharper than the ax blade, Chin pulled the ax out of the air by its handle and, in the same motion, propelled it with even greater force back at his former sifu. Wu dodged it and the ax gouged a deep cavity in the wall.

  Chin remained on the attack. With the terrifying speed of a feline, he leapt at Wu. A Dragon palm strike from Chin targeted Master Wu’s ribs. Wu brushed off Chin’s blow, countering it by ramming a rapid-fire series of Leopard blows at Chin’s abdominals. However, twenty million sit-ups performed over thirty years made Chin’s stomach muscles immune to blows that would have killed an ordinary man.

  Wu raised his arms in Dragon claws and lunged to grab at Chin’s groin, but Chin quickly positioned his hands and, with unexpected fingers, thrust his thumbs into Wu’s eyes. The aged master howled in pain and backed off. Sensing blood, Chin sprung to attack the suddenly vulnerable master. He yanked three daggers from the fold of his jacket and launched one, two, three pointed projectiles at the weakened Master Wu’s head, abdomen and legs.

  The first two missed, but the third found its target and embedded itself into Master Wu’s thigh. Blood gushed out. With a kamikaze-like scream, Master Wu jerked the dagger out of his leg and flung it back at Chin. However, severely debilitated, Wu’s throw had only minimal power. Chin contemptuously flicked his index finger to deflect it out of harm’s way.

  Full of confidence, Chin bombarded Wu with a blitzkrieg of combinations... left arm, right arm, left kick to midsection, right kick to the head, double kick to the chest... and more. The bruised and bleeding master could not withstand Chin’s relentless onslaught.

  A final double fist to the back of Master Wu’s neck sent him unconscious to the floor. Chin stared at the senseless old man with contempt and loathing.

  He heard clapping and turned to see Duke and his thugs applauding his victory.

  Chin acknowledged the tribute with a nod of his head. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter 33

  Rain drenched Noah and Garret as they arrived at a huge development site. A large billboard announced:

  Golden Asia Developments

  The Concept For The Future

  As they examined the framework of the massive structure, it was clear it was a combination residential, entertainment, retail and corporate complex under development. Covering several city blocks, it was larger than anything Noah had ever seen.

  Gaping holes were strewn around the site, interspersed with partially built buildings and mud everywhere. Backhoes, tractors, hundred-foot-tall cranes and other building machines were lit up with Christmas lights even though it was far from the yuletide season. All of it contributed to an odd juxtaposition of East and West over
this stupendous, monumental and commercialized Shangri-La.

  Garret and Noah walked to the chain-link fence surrounding the property. Garret nimbly scaled the fifteen-foot fence and then leapt to the ground on the other side. Noah followed suit.

  Garret waved his arm over the enterprise. “This is the future of Golden Asia. When we are done, this will be paradise. You can shop, eat, do business, play tennis and never leave our complex. And, because we own everything, we make money on everything.”

  “Mr. Southam, China has tried complexes like this before. There are whole pockets of buildings—they call them ghost cities—where builders have built but no one has bought. Ordos, Dongguan, Hangzhou. There are hundreds of thousands, maybe millions, of empty units in block after block after block.”

  Garret smiled. “But you forgot one thing. We do not build for today. We build for tomorrow. The Golden Asia complex is hardly a white elephant. There is a mass exodus from rural China to the urban centers. Most of the people are poor and can afford very little.”

  “That proves my point.”

  “But people do not stay poor forever. They scrimp, they save, they put a dozen people into a bedroom and, sooner or later, they start accumulating wealth, and they will want to buy their own personal piece of real estate. If we build now, we build in today’s dollars. If it takes two, five, ten years to fill them up, inflation will guarantee a healthy profit.”

  “That’s for the mainland. That’s not going to apply to Macau.”

  Garret was exasperated. “Reid, you are absolutely wrong. Hong Kong and Macau are now the top tourist destinations for Chinese from the mainland. When we complete Golden Asia, this will be a breathtaking entertainment and residential complex that will be the envy of the world. Besides, we have a secret weapon.”