White Ginger

by Thatcher Robinson

  She rode the elevator up to the penthouse offices on the top floor and stepped out of the lift into a bright and airy atrium. Cow lilies, their fragrance filling the room, grew in a massive planter that rested against the wall next to the lift. Across the room was a receptionist’s kiosk, a round, elevated desk, where a very pretty Chinese woman in a tailored black blazer answered the phone via a wireless headset while gesturing for Bai to have a seat in one of the overstuffed leather chairs.

  As Bai settled into an armchair to wait, another receptionist appeared to offer tea. Bai declined. The stale coffee from the café had already torched her stomach.

  Tommy stepped out to personally usher her into his office. He offered her a seat in a guest chair before walking around to the other side of his desk. He sat facing her and leaned forward to rest his elbows on the desktop. “It’s good to see you. You look beautiful as always. How is Dan?”

  “Dan’s fine. You’re looking well.”

  He smiled. “Thank you. Now that we have the pleasantries out of the way, what can I do for you?”

  A slight, fit man in his late fifties, Tommy personified the direct and forceful executive. He continued to smile affably as he waited for her reply.

  “Your men are holding someone for me downstairs. It’s a long story. But to sum it up, I have a contract to retrieve a fifteen-year-old girl who’s been sold to the Wah Ching. I understand she’s being held in Oakland. The young man downstairs is her brother, also a Wah Ching. I need him held until I can find his sister.”

  He sat back in his chair to reflect a moment. The smile disappeared. “It would be easier to kill him—less messy. If we turn him loose, he could cause trouble.”

  “I don’t see any justification for killing him. Besides, being an accessory to murder would wreak havoc on my karma. When it’s all over, I’ll put him on a plane headed for China and we’ll never hear from him again.”

  Tommy’s fingers pressed together before his face to form a steeple. He closed his eyes and spoke in a measured voice. “We’ll keep him here for you . . . but not without a price.”

  He opened his eyes to smile at her. She was familiar with his Cheshire grin. It didn’t bode well.

  “What is it you want, Tommy?”

  “Ho Chan’s estate has lingered now for two years. I want you to come to a decision regarding his remaining holdings. I want resolution on the Hong Kong property.”

  She wasn’t too surprised that he pushed for closure on her grandfather’s estate. She’d been stalling on instructions from her lawyers. The Hong Kong real estate market was still booming, while the market in California was in the toilet. Her overseas properties served as a hedge against her domestic holdings. But from Tommy’s perspective, the Hong Kong estate, a five-acre oceanfront compound, held significance beyond money. It had served as the palatial home of her grandfather, the seat of power.

  She assumed the serious demeanor of a businesswoman. “I won’t sell you the Hong Kong estate.” She made the statement flatly. The reaction on his face wasn’t angry, but he appeared to be disappointed. “But I will do a swap. I just can’t afford to recapture the depreciation since the property is held in a stateside corporation.”

  He nodded solemnly as he mulled over her suggestion. A small smile played across his lips. “Do you have any properties in mind?”

  She was familiar with the triad’s holdings. Her grandfather had managed them for decades. In reply, she held up her hands, palms out, and surveyed his office.

  He barked a laugh. “You want this building?”

  “I believe you’ll find that with the decline in the California market, the property in Hong Kong will be on parity with the current value of this building. And . . . you’ve been holding this building far too long. You could do better with a higher rate of depreciation.”

  He stared at her while he thought about her offer. “I suppose you’ve already worked this out and have the appraisals in order.”

  His wasn’t so much a question as a statement. She nodded in reply. “The lawyers at Hung and Chin have all the paperwork. If you’d care to have your people vet the deal, I’ll have the files sent over. I’ve also worked out a long-term lease option on this building. I wouldn’t want to lose you as a tenant.”

  “I should’ve known you’d be one step ahead of me. You truly are Ho Chan’s prodigy. I’m only sorry you couldn’t follow in his footsteps.”

  Tommy raised his hands, an apology of sorts for running an all-boys club. She wasn’t sorry. She’d escaped life in Sun Yee On. Besides, she didn’t need the money, and the power was just an illusion. Life can’t be controlled with a gun.

  He beamed at her and seemed to take pride in her shrewd business acumen. “Is there anything more I can do for you?”

  She hesitated before asking the next question. It was a sensitive topic. “Can you tell me how heavily the Wah Ching are involved in slaving?”

  He shrugged to communicate either he didn’t know or saw no reason to tell her what he knew. She stood outside the brotherhood. There were limits to what he could, or would, do on her behalf.

  She smiled and spoke with a dramatic flair. “I certainly hope nothing happens to me. My estate would go into probate . . . for years.”

  She grinned at him and waited for a response.

  Bai’s relationship with Tommy was complicated. He’d acted as a surrogate father when her parents had been killed. He’d been part of her life since she’d been a child. He’d also taken from her one of the things she loved most: Jason. Tommy had made Jason his heir apparent. They struggled over the heart and soul of a man neither could relinquish.

  He looked at her sourly. He’d thought he could twist her arm and force a sale on her. Now it was her turn to do a little arm twisting. He needed her alive until the sale of the Hong Kong properties closed. She had him right where she wanted him.

  He leaned forward, one eyebrow raised in anticipation. “What exactly is it you want?”

  “I need you to loan me Jason.” She kept her face neutral to play down the request.

  As Hung Kwan, Jason had a small army of seasoned soldiers at his disposal. Not that she needed them. It was Jason she wanted, though she could no longer rationally explain why.

  Tommy eyed her knowingly. “You and Jason have some issues to work out. ‘Once on a tiger’s back, it is hard to alight.’” He let the truth of his words sink in while she sat quietly under his scrutiny. Punching a speed dial on his office phone, he put the call on speaker. Jason’s voice answered. “Jason, could you step into my office, please. There’s something we need to discuss.”

  Like guarded opponents, they eyed each other until a knock sounded at the door. Jason walked in without waiting for a response. He gave no indication he was surprised to see Bai.

  He bowed slightly and addressed Tommy. “You wanted to see me?”

  “Yes. Bai has requested that she ‘borrow’ you for a short while. How do you feel about that?”

  Jason looked at her briefly before returning his attention to Tommy. “I’ll do as you think best.”

  Tommy let out a long sigh and gazed at her. His facial expression didn’t tell her anything. “Very well,” he uttered, as if in defeat. “It’s in the best interest of Sun Yee On for Bai to stay alive until we can conclude certain business transactions. You are charged with seeing she remains so, even if that means going against her explicit wishes.”

  Tommy stared at her with a crooked grin, an expression that let her know she might have overplayed her hand. She’d been looking for an obedient helper. What she’d gotten was a nanny with a gun.

  Jason walked with Bai out of Tommy’s office and into the lobby. He glanced at her then looked away with features that appeared to be set in stone. The elevator doors opened, and they stepped in to take the lift to the underground garage.

  “Where are we going?” Bai asked.

  “We’re going to get the girl. I thought that’s what you wanted.”

  His voice i
mplied he wasn’t happy.

  “Are you angry with me? Do you know where the Wah Ching are holding her? You could’ve said no if you hadn’t wanted to help me.”

  He took a deep breath and let it out slowly before answering. “No, I’m not angry with you. And no, I don’t know where the girl is. But I do know where Sammy Tu bases his operations. If we can find him, there’s a good chance the girl won’t be too far away. As for my saying no to you, that’s always been a problem. All I ask is that you follow my lead and try not to get in the way.”

  She turned to him, doubt written across her features. “Are you thinking about going after him now? Why don’t we try to sneak the girl out in the middle of the night?”

  “Now is the best time to catch Sammy Tu. The sex trade runs late and sleeps late. I’m hoping we can catch the lazy pimp before word gets out you’re looking for him. To do that, we need to get to him before he wakes up.”

  The elevator doors dinged as they opened. Jason walked quickly out of the lift with Bai trailing behind. He stopped to open the passenger door of a black BMW, allowing her to enter, before walking around the car to the driver’s side.

  “Do you want to stop and pick up Lee?” he asked as he backed the car out of the parking stall.

  The offer took Bai by surprise. She peered at his face, trying to figure out whether he was serious. As usual, his expression told her nothing. “What will your associates think?”

  His face tightened. It wasn’t until they’d exited the parking garage that he spoke. “It was never personal with Lee. You don’t seem to be able to understand.”

  His excuses didn’t make her any less offended. “I think you fail to understand there’s no way not to take it personally. You made the decision that Lee wasn’t good enough to be your friend because he’s gay. That was your choice.”

  Jason threaded his way through traffic. He gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles blanched. His lips narrowed to a thin line.

  “The decision’s been made,” he stated harshly. “I sometimes wonder if I made the right choice—taking the oaths. But it’s done. We both know there’s no turning back.”

  She turned to look at him. For an instant, their gazes met before she quickly averted her eyes. She understood what he was saying. He’d made his choice to join the brotherhood. In doing so, he’d given up his old life, his old friends . . . and her.

  Reluctant to look at him, she fumbled around in her jacket pocket for her cell phone. When Lee answered, she asked him to wait on the street. He didn’t ask any questions.

  Lee stood on the sidewalk as the big beamer pulled up to the curb. He jumped into the back and slammed the door shut as Jason eased the car back into traffic.

  Jason drove aggressively, weaving in and out of the choked thoroughfares to avoid double-parked vehicles and pedestrians, who demonstrated an inexplicable aversion to crosswalks. They flew down The Embarcadero and past the old Ferry Building before crossing the Bay Bridge to pick up Interstate 580 to Oakland.

  Jason spoke loudly enough for Lee to hear in the backseat. “Sammy Tu is headquartered in an old Victorian in Oakland. It’s near downtown. I understand he keeps an apartment on the third floor and leaves the bottom two floors for paying customers.”

  “How do we get inside?” asked Lee.

  Jason flashed a smile and glanced back at Lee. “You ring the bell.”

  “And then what?” Bai asked.

  He stared straight ahead at the road. “Then we run up the stairs and shoot anybody that gets in our way.”

  Lee popped his head between the seats to look at Bai. He mouthed a silent “no” in protest of Jason’s plan.

  “We’ll be fast—in and out,” Jason added, ignoring Lee’s antics. “The less noise we make, the fewer people we’ll have to shoot. We’ll wear ski masks, but Sammy Tu will eventually realize you’re responsible, Bai. Word will get around if you’re successful in retrieving the girl. You’re going to have an enemy if we leave him alive.”

  “There’s no need to kill anybody!” she snapped. “What is it with you and killing people? Let’s just grab the girl and run. I’ll deal with Sammy Tu, if and when the time comes.”

  Jason grunted a reply.

  The car exited off the interstate and onto Main Street in Oakland.

  If you have money, you live in The Oakland Hills, an enclave of trees and gently rolling knolls. On the Bay side, the mean streets of Oakland are inhabited by the poor and the lawless. Downtown, gangs are endemic. Urban blight can be seen on every corner. Parts of the city look like a war zone, complete with barred windows and blast-shield doors.

  Sammy Tu didn’t live in the hills of Oakland.

  Jason stopped the car on a side street populated by older homes—dilapidated Victorians. Clad in a patchwork of once-vibrant colors, the painted ladies looked tired and worn, remnants of a grander era. The street appeared deserted.

  Jason pushed a button to pop open the trunk lid before exiting the car. Bai and Lee followed him to the back of the car where he entered a four-digit code to unlock a gun case bolted to the floor of the open compartment. Guns and mysterious green canisters filled the metal box.

  Jason handed Lee a 7.62-caliber Nagant revolver equipped with a silencer. “It won’t make any more noise than a cough.”

  He then turned to Bai with an identical gun.

  “I won’t need it,” she said.

  He stared at her, his eyes tight with frustration. He kept the gun and handed her a ski mask. “Once we’re inside, put on the mask.”

  Bai felt exposed while standing on the street with two armed men and a ski mask clasped in her hand. The avenue remained empty. If the local inhabitants noticed the strange activities, they showed remarkably good sense in minding their own business.

  Jason stuffed one of the green canisters into the front pocket of his jacket where it made a large lump, ruining the lines in his tailored suit. He then closed the trunk and turned to walk across the street. Lee and Bai followed, still unsure of where they were going.

  Wooden steps led to the veranda of an old Victorian. The porch wrapped around the house like a tattered shawl on an aged dowager. Columns, painted a faded pink, supported a frog-green overhang. Paint peeled and cracked to expose a patchwork of faded colors underneath.

  Lee pushed a button next to a red door while Jason and Bai stepped back to remain out of sight. When nothing happened, he rang the bell again and pounded his fists against unyielding wood. Finally, a sleepy-eyed girl cracked the door. A heavy security chain kept the door from opening farther.

  The girl was small, just over five feet, and Asian. She was pretty, despite the annoyed look on her face. She stared at Lee petulantly.

  “I’m here for my date,” he claimed.

  The girl looked him up and down, bleary-eyed, before replying in broken English. “You too early. Come back later—four.”

  As she started to close the door, Lee put his foot in the opening and drew a money clip out of his pocket.

  “I don’t want to wait.”

  He held up the bankroll so she could see the hundred-dollar bills clearly. “I’ll make it worth your while. After all, ‘Wealth is but dung, useful only when spread.’”

  The girl looked at him, then at the fat bankroll. He waved the money in front of her face. She seemed to waver.

  Lee pressed her. “Show me a good time, and I’ll let you have it all.”

  She shrugged nonchalantly, giving in to temptation, and closed the door far enough to release the chain. When she opened the door, Jason and Bai rushed in behind Lee, who already had his hand over the girl’s mouth. She resisted for a moment then went still. Jason and Bai pulled on ski masks while Lee held the girl firmly in his grasp.

  Stepping around the girl, Jason thrust the barrel of his pistol between her eyes and made a shushing gesture with his other hand. He jerked his head at Lee, who slowly removed his hand from the girl’s mouth. When she didn’t scream, Lee stepped away to pull on his own m
ask.

  Jason pressed the silencer roughly against the girl’s forehead. “Where is Sammy Tu?”

  Tears rolled down the girl’s cheeks “Not here.”

  Bai could see she was telling the truth. The girl was too scared to lie. She barked at her. “Do you know where he is?”

  The girl jerked around at the sound of Bai’s voice. Their hostage seemed to realize, for the first time, there was a woman behind the mask. She stared at Bai blankly before replying. “No, he tell me nothing.”

  Bai took the picture of Jia out of her pocket and showed it to the girl. “Have you seen her?”

  The girl nodded her head frantically. “Yes, upstair, but Sammy take. Dunno where.”

  Bai looked at Lee, who then bolted up the stairs to check out the girl’s story.

  Jason grabbed the girl’s jaw roughly and turned her head to look at him. “Is there someone else here who will know where he is?”

  The girl’s eyes drifted to the right. She was hiding something. Jason cocked the hammer on the revolver.

  “Your choice,” he whispered.

  “No, wait,” the girl pleaded. “Chan and Shen in basement—they maybe know where Sammy go.”

  Jason eased the hammer down on the revolver as he stared at the girl. “What are they doing in the basement?”

  “Dunno. Off-limits.”

  Lee returned, taking the stairs two at a time. “The girl’s telling the truth. The top floor’s empty. But someone’s been there recently. I found this.”

  It was a pink cell phone with the initials J and Y. Jia Yan’s phone.

  Jason spoke to the girl as he grabbed her roughly by the arm. “Take us to the basement.”

  The girl’s head bounced up and down in agreement.

  “Don’t make a sound, and maybe you’ll live,” he added.

  They passed through a dining room and a round table cluttered with dirty dishes and empty beer bottles. The room smelled of cheap perfume, rancid food, and cigarettes. On the far wall was a door leading to the back of the house. As they walked through the door to the kitchen, the girl nodded toward another door across the room, positioned next to an old, white enameled stove the size of a Buick. “Basement. Don’ tell I rat.”