“Same old shit,” yelled a violinist.
“The same old SOS in a new package, and people will lap it up. I say ‘no’ to that. We have to innovate and the only way to do that is with brand new product with brand new people. The great thing about what we’re doing is that we educate, give people a chance and it gives the New Amsterdam the opportunity to hit a home run. It’s cost effective so we can take chances on new talent. But to make this happen, we need to have partners, we need to have donors willing to commit...”
“Money talks, babe!”
“Sure does.” Queenie shouted, “And we have one of those groups here right now. Let’s give it up for Byron Field and the Manhattan Investors Syndicate!”
To the sound of a hundred thirty kids clapping and hollering, Byron stepped to the microphone.
“Thank you, Queenie, for that kind introduction. And thank you kids for letting an old fart see what youth can accomplish if they are given the chance. Now, as a Wall Street Money guy, I tell you we are inundated with people asking for a handout. Most of the time we say ‘no’ but, every now and then, there’s a project that is so absolutely compelling, we have to say ‘yes.’ The New Amsterdam Arts Center is one of those projects. What a marvelous, marvelous beginning. We believe that today marks not only a new era of music but of how we deal with problems with the inner city youth. No longer will they have to entertain or support themselves on the streets with drugs. Youth are important and we at Manhattan Investors Syndicate are committing seventy-five million dollars to support the cause.”
Shouts of joy, tears of happiness, jumping of delight, and spontaneous dancing broke out.
“And we have been promised by Noah Reid, president of the Chad Huang Foundation, that he will match our donation dollar for dollar, making a total of one hundred fifty million dollars, enough to ensure the viability of the New Amsterdam Arts Center for years to come. Come on up, Noah. This is your time.”
Noah shook his head, “No, no,” but then the crowd started chanting, “No-ah, No-ah, No-ah.” They refused to stop until Noah started making his way to the microphone. Caught up in the euphoria, he was happy that the kids had made Byron see the value of what Queenie proposed.
Chapter 31
The key objective of Raoul and his men was to retrieve the girls for Alexei. If it was just the girls, that would have been a simple job but there was another goal for Raoul, too. He had to prove himself to the men that Alexei had chosen to accompany him. They had heard that a Chinaman not only injured Raoul; he humiliated him. If Raoul couldn’t demonstrate that the beating he suffered from the Chinaman was an aberration, at least two of them were ready to challenge him to move up in Alexei’s chain of command
Raoul was well aware of this and knew he couldn’t just simply kill the Chinaman; he had to so in a way that demonstrated superior muscle and skill. Even an eight-year-old could kill someone with a bullet but death by machete required dexterity, ingenuity, sharp judgment and maximum physical power.
Raoul, sporting a large black eye from the morning’s encounter with JJ’s fist, charged at the Chinese martial artist, slicing the air in a criss-cross fashion with the machete.
JJ backtracked and leapt as Raoul chased him around the room.
JJ threw a pillow at the Russian but a quick hard jab from the blade and a flick upwards sent feathers flying through the air.
Raoul stepped to JJ and lunged for his chest. JJ quickly pulled back.
Raoul, sensing opportunity, changed the direction of the blade and swiped at JJ’s arm.
A standing jump fueled by the martial artist’s powerful legs made the blade helplessly slice the air.
As JJ landed on the floor, Raoul lunged again with criss-cross moves. JJ nimbly stepped left, then right, then scooped up a lampstand and held it up as a defense.
The machete chopped through the heavy wood pole easily. However, it slowed Raoul’s momentum, allowing JJ to run behind his Russian foe.
JJ delivered an elbow to the back of Raoul’s head that would have crippled the average person, but not Raoul. His neck was as sturdy as a Russian oak and the Russian bellowed in laughter as JJ’s hand bounced off.
For a big man, Raoul was surprisingly agile. He wheeled around and drove a twisting blade at JJ. JJ leapt backward but not before the tip of the machete pricked his chest. Blood seeped from the wound.
Seeing JJ’s blood energized Raoul even more. He smelled victory with the onslaught of his blade.
It took every bit of JJ’s acrobatic ability and focus to evade lunges from the front, swings from the side, and uppercut blade motions to his groin. Raoul’s confidence grew; he knew the monk could not escape forever.
Which was exactly what JJ wanted Raoul to think. All warfare is based on deception.
“Ah!” screamed JJ, clutching the bloodstain on his shirt.
Smirking, Raoul shot a glance at his approving henchmen. Raising the machete over his head, he summoned all his strength to deliver a powerful blow at JJ’s skull.
JJ reached over and grabbed a dead crane. A millisecond before the blade sliced his head open, JJ jerked to the side and the machete sliced off the bird’s head. Infuriated, Raoul delivered a second blow. JJ held up the bird’s body and this time, there was instant amputation of the leg.
Now JJ was ready. He leapt to his feet.
Hung Gar. Tiger and Crane.
Tiger—one of JJ’s hands held the bird’s leg so the talons were like a tiger’s paw readying for attack.
Crane—his other hand held the crane’s neck so that its beak was ready to penetrate.
JJ attacked. As Raoul swung the machete, the tiger’s claw descended on his forearm. JJ jerked the leg so that deep feline-like scratches gouged the big man’s arm.
When another machete swing came at him, JJ sidestepped the assault and drove the bird’s sharpened beak into Raoul’s belly button. He pulled up, cutting the Russian open from his navel to his nipples.
With his guts spilling out, Raoul was dead before he landed on the floor.
JJ glared at the Russian henchmen. “Get him out!” he snapped. The Russian mobsters snatched up Raoul’s body and pulled it out of the room, disappearing down the hallway.
“Your phone’s ready,” whimpered Tanya. She and the others had seen everything, looking on with horror, conflicted with emotions of relief and joy.
JJ took the phone and briefly scanned Noah’s messages about the presentation at Skyscape.
“No, no,” he whispered agitatedly. He quickly hit reply, wrote a message and sent it off. When acknowledgment didn’t arrive in five seconds, he typed another and another and another, firing them off in rapid succession. He can’t ignore them all.
As Noah made his way to the podium, he ignored his cell phone vibrating. Byron continued at the microphone. “By this time next year, we will have at least fifty recordings just as fantastic as we all witnessed a few minutes ago. Now, let’s give it up for Noah Reid and the Chad Huang Foundation and the future of New York youth!”
Part of Queenie’s scheming was to put Noah in a position where he could not say “no.” In front of a hundred and thirty enthusiastic kids that were the demographic the Chad Huang Foundation targeted, combined with an old girlfriend he was hoping to win back that was VP of the new organization, she was sure Byron’s carefully worded introduction would ensure her hoped-for result.
The vibrating cell wouldn’t stop so Noah took a quick glance—it was a series of texts from JJ, all marked URGENT. RUN, HIDE and CALL ME. JUST DO IT.
Noah put the phone away and stepped to the microphone. His mouth was speaking but inside, his mind was churning. What the hell is JJ thinking?
He raised his hands to clap back to his appreciative audience. “I’m so glad that I was invited to this today. It gives me a real feel for what music can do. Maybe some of you don’t know this, but I’m actually just a jock.”
As snickers permeated, Noah suddenly began gagging as if he were about to vomit. “Sorry
, I... I...” He dashed off the podium, coughing and choking as he ran out of the recording room.
There was confusion and concern. Queenie shifted her gaze to Kenny, motioning for the studio manager to follow Noah.
Noah rushed into the washroom and into a stall. Keeping watch on the door, Noah called JJ. “What’s up? I’m just about to make a speech to donate funds to the New Amsterdam Academy.”
“Don’t do it. Queenie isn’t who you think she is. She’s King’s sister.”
“King, as in ‘crash my helicopter into Heaven and attack with every snake in the universe’ King?”
“Yes.”
Noah whistled.
“She’s after revenge and you are at the top of her list,” explained JJ.
Noah shook his head. “No, she’s not after revenge. Just like King, she’s after money. But she’s smarter than King. Her brother went for the whole thing. She’s after a lot less.”
“She just tried to kill me. You better get out of there, Noah.”
“I can’t. Olivia, Abby and a slew of kids are in there with Queenie right now. I have to go back.”
“In that case, I’m coming. What’s the plan?”
Noah snorted. “Plan? I just found out about this a minute ago so we’re gonna have to make it up as we go.”
Hearing the bathroom door opening, Noah shut the phone. He jammed two fingers down his throat to induce vomiting. He leaned over the toilet and then gagged. The sound of retching bounced off the tile walls and then Noah puked out the remnants of his lunch.
“Need help?”
The green-faced Noah looked up to see Kenny hovering. “Could do with a new stomach right about now. Got any Po Chai pills?” Po Chai pills were tiny Chinese medicinal pills used by Chinese for all kinds of stomach ailments.
“What Chinese doesn’t?”
“Let’s get them and go back. I’ve got a speech to make.”
JJ tried to comfort the scared young girls. “Don’t worry. I’ve survived snakes and terrorists and I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
As the sobbing girls nodded, JJ went into the hallway and saw Olga, a Russian cleaning lady, coming out of the Presidential Suite at the end of the hall. “Is anybody booked in there tonight?”
Olga laughed. “At six thousand dollars a night, there is hardly anybody staying here any night.”
JJ pulled two hundred dollars from his pocket and offered it to her. “If you let my friends stay in there tonight. Okay?”
The cleaning lady scoffed, “You want me to risk my job for that?”
JJ took out another three hundred and handed it to her.
She snatched it. “Okay. As long as they leave by noon tomorrow. That’s check-out time.”
JJ pursed his lips. “Noon.”
Olga had the shock of her life when JJ ushered twelve scrawny young Russian girls out of his hotel room.
Accosting the youngest, Olga asked, “Who are you?”
“Larissa.” She pointed to JJ. “He saved us from some bad men.”
Olga burst into tears and made a phone call.
After a furious conversation in Russian, Olga hung up and announced, “I was speaking to our chef. In fifteen minutes, you will have homemade Russian sausages, borsht and perogies.”
She handed the five hundred dollars back to JJ. “You are a saint.”
JJ shook Olga’s hand and went to the elevator. The door opened immediately. “I’ll be back later,” said JJ as the doors closed.
Twelve young Russian girls were in a six-thousand-dollar-a-night Presidential Suite in one of New York’s finest hotels. For a short time, fear was gone from their lives and a nightmare had turned to a fantasy come true.
Kenny and Noah re-entered the recording room. There were sighs of relief and enthusiastic applause as Noah climbed back on the podium.
“Sorry about that. Remind me never to eat expired sushi again,” joked Noah, desperately trying to formulate a plan.
Noah looked out to the sea of hopeful, young faces. A lot of them were about Sam’s age and with similar backgrounds. He knew he couldn’t abandon them, just the way he and Chad couldn’t abandon Sam. And that’s where he would start.
“The Chad Huang Foundation was named after my best friend. He was a great guy and we played basketball for hours together. We had an old British sports car that when it worked was the most fun thing in the world to drive. He could also make one mean cappuccino. But what drove Chad more than anything were kids. He loved kids just like all of you here.” Making it personal, Noah pointed his finger at the kids.
“Chad didn’t have much of a home life and he wound up living with our family. He promised himself he would do his best so that other kids didn’t have to go through what he did. He wanted every kid to have a chance, every kid to have a safe place, not just to play ball but to hang out. That’s what we’re doing with the Chad Huang Foundation.”
Sympathy murmurs echoed throughout the room.
“I share the vision Queenie has for the New Amsterdam Arts Center. It is imaginative, creative, and exactly what New York needs. No, it’s what every city needs. A place where young people are given the best so they know what it takes to excel. I am pleased to announce that the Chad Huang Foundation will match the funding of the Manhattan Investors Group.”
As a swell of approval rang out, Noah lifted his arms to quell the clamor. “And now, I’m going to make a request. All of you, please get out of here as quickly as possible. I know you want to party, but when you deal with money, there is unfortunately a ton of paperwork to do. If we’re going to start soon, there are some people in this room who would like to have a big check in their pocket.”
Chapter 32
Queenie and Kenny, standing at Studio 5’s door, shook the hands of each kid as they filed out. “Thanks so much. You were great,” was a constantly repeated refrain to the eager young faces.
Tim gave Queenie a hug. “You did it, sister.” And then he whispered in her ear, “I’ll hang around in case you need me.”
“You’re the greatest, Tim. We’ll make some great music,” Queenie said with a smile. She nodded at Tim, acknowledging his comment.
In the middle of the room, Noah stepped up to Olivia and Abby and said quietly, “You and Abby should go, too.”
“Are you kidding?” asked Olivia. “This is a big moment for us. Abby’s now a member of our advisory board. We are not going.”
“Please, the two of you. Go.”
“We are staying.”
Queenie saw the frown on Olivia’s face and stepped away from the door and strode to Noah and Olivia. “What’s the matter?”
“Noah doesn’t want us in the meeting,” stated Olivia
“It’s not that I don’t want them in the meeting. I don’t like mixing personal matters with professional.” Noah knew Olivia would take this the wrong way but he didn’t have any other bright ideas.
“Noah, there is nothing personal between you and me. Nothing. I can’t believe that your donating funds to New Amsterdam is contingent on us getting back together.”
“I didn’t say that nor am I implying that.”
Olivia glared. “Good. Then Abby and I are staying.”
The discussion moved to Skyscape’s boardroom down the hall. Sitting around the twelve-foot oval acacia boardroom table, the preliminary discussions went off without fireworks. Noah was amiable and he and Byron reiterated their commitments to the New Amsterdam Arts Center while Queenie and Olivia nattered their platitudes.
Looking serious, Noah drummed his fingers on the table while he tried to figure out his next move. With nothing coming to mind, he was going to have to bluff. He cleared his throat. “So I guess the next item on the agenda is the timing of our contribution. It’ll probably take me a week to put the funds together.”
“What are you talking about, Noah? Everybody else the foundation gave money to received funds within forty-eight hours or less,” said Olivia sharply.
“Th
at’s because of the amount. According to the Foundation’s constitution, which Olivia drafted, any funds over $100,000 require approval from a special board meeting. There’s me, JJ, and we’ll have to get hold of Sam.”
Olivia growled. She couldn’t remember if that were true but it did sound like something she would insist upon.
But then her eyes sparkled. “I didn’t have enough time to submit my resignation so I’m still a board member. Abby, I don’t remember getting your resignation.”
Puzzled, Abby shook her head. “I didn’t know I had to.”
Olivia folded her hands confidently. “So we have four active members in New York.”
Noah hid his apprehension with a sigh of relief. “Thank you. I just got here yesterday and was dreading the thought of hopping back on the plane for another sixteen-hour flight. Let me get in touch with JJ and we can meet at our hotel.”
Olivia stated firmly, “We don’t have to go to the hotel. We can have the meeting now. We only need three to have a quorum and we have three here.”
“Fantastic. I’m already thinking about the next session.” Noah turned to Queenie, Byron and Kenny. “Can you step out for five minutes so we can have our board meeting in private?”
“Of course” said Queenie.
She, Kenny and Byron got up and exited the room.
As soon as the door shut, Noah’s fingers flew on his cell phone. He showed his note to Olivia and Abby.
DON’T ASK QUESTIONS BUT JUST DO THIS. I WANT US TO HAVE A HUGE LOUD FIGHT.
He immediately erased the message.
Chapter 33
There was no way Sam was going to stay stuck in Hong Kong while Noah and JJ had all the fun. Rebellion and an insatiable need for excitement are part of every teenager’s psychological make-up and Sam was no exception.
As soon as the two adults left for New York, Sam called his online gaming buddy, IAMTHEWALRUS, from his hospital bed. Walrus was stoked about the possibility of meeting Sam in person and he was more than happy to assist. It took him only thirty seconds to convince his parents to let Sam stay at their place when he arrived, but getting to New York took a bit more doing.
The Noah Reid Action Thriller Series: Books 1-3 (plus special bonuses) Page 52
