“Because you have no choice, Sing.”
Chapter 48
The vendor at the night market handed me a bowl of chop suey fresh out of a wok. “How much?” I asked.
“HK$20.”
Twenty? While there was no menu to confirm the price, I could have sworn the Chinese couple in front of me paid ten for the exact same thing.
Ever since I read about the two scale pricing on a travel blog, one for locals and another, almost always double, for foreigners, I was cautious whenever I purchased something from a street stand.
“What’s a couple of bucks?” my stomach moaned.
“It’s the principle, that’s what,” my brain countered.
I didn’t feel like waiting to see how the battle of body parts played out. I made the call. Stomach wins. I handed over HK$20.
I buried my face into the bowl and began forking mounds of chicken and veggies into my mouth. When I finally came up for air the vendor was holding out $10HK. He kept motioning for me to take it.
For a second I was confused, “You said $20HK right?”
The vendor didn’t speak much English and gestured for me to take the change. And then I heard a voice behind me.
“If you don’t take it, I will,” a female voice said.
I turned around and standing there was Leslie Choi. She reached over me, took the money from the vendor, and tucked it into the pocket of my blazer. I didn’t know what to say. I simply stared at her.
“Usually people say thank you when someone saves them from being scammed,” she said.
Her smile turned into a smirk as she tilted her head off to one side.
“I’m sorry, I was––you caught me off guard. I know you, from earlier in the day right?”
“That would be me. Broken heel woman.”
I looked down at her shoe. “That’s right. How’s it holding up?”
She kicked her heel up, “Just fine.” She held a plate of dumplings in her hand.
“So you were getting something to eat too, I see.”
“Well, it’s usually what people do when they come to Temple Street.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, really.”
And then we both laughed. I liked this woman. She was funny, amazingly beautiful, and the best part, she didn’t cringe when she spoke to me.
We walked through the maze of the night market, eating and talking.
“So tell me, Darby, what brings you to Hong Kong? Business or pleasure?”
I stumbled for a minute. I wasn’t prepared to answer any questions about my visit.
“Business of course. You know, sealing the deal.” I leaned in and whispered, “Illegal arms, heavy stuff.”
Leslie laughed. “You’re a funny man, Mr. Darby.”
“Well, you’re an easy crowd. I can keep this stuff coming all night if you want. I got plenty.”
“Where are you from?”
“San Francisco. You know they have a pretty big Chinatown there.”
“So I hear. Do you come to Hong Kong often for business?”
“Every now and then. Depends on the amount of missiles I got in stock.”
Leslie hooked her arm around mine and leaned her head against me. This blew me away. She made a move on me. I finally had myself some real arm candy.
We continued walking, arm in arm. I was having a wonderful time talking to Leslie. I told her she didn’t seem like a typical Hong Kong native. She countered that she lived here her entire life but admitted that she had the opportunity to attend excellent private schools thanks to the wealthy businessman her mother married. She never explained how she lost her father but only that it happened at a young age. I didn’t pry.
Instead, I constantly found myself lost in her beauty. She had unusually large brown eyes that sparkled under the moon. Her straight silky hair ended in curls just below her shoulder. We must have spent close to three hours talking and walking the streets of the Mong Kok. I’m sure we walked in circles at one point. I didn’t care. I felt like I was back in high school. I didn’t want the walk to end. The conversation flowed so easily. It felt right. We felt right.
When Leslie suggested we go back to my hotel for a nightcap, I couldn’t believe it.
“Pinch me,” I said.
“What?”
“Pinch me. I want to make sure I’m not dreaming. You’re real, right?”
Leslie leaned in close, stopping her lips just short of mine. Her eyes smiled at me. Her perfume penetrated my nose.
Then she moved in like a sneaky fox. Our lips met. I swung my hand around and placed it on the small of her back. I was determined to make sure this was a kiss and not a smooch. Our tongues introduced themselves to each other and hit it off right away. BFF’s. I couldn’t ask for a better first kiss. We pulled ourselves away.
I told her, “You taste good. Like dumplings.”
Leslie giggled. “Thanks, I guess.”
The laughing and teasing ended when we reached the hotel room. I was busy fumbling with the card key when Leslie turned me around. Our lips met, again. Still soft, still warm, still perfect. And that was okay with me.
We eventually made it into the room, me walking backwards, her pushing forward. I slipped her jacket off. She wore a silk blouse underneath, very soft to the touch.
Leslie worked quickly on my shirt buttons. She ran her hands across my chest then followed with little kisses. I pulled her blouse over her head and revealed a sexy, sheer black bra. She undid the snaps in the front and it popped off. Her breasts beamed at me. Her small chocolate brown nipples were awake.
I kissed down her neck as I held her head gently between my hands. She unbuckled my belt and my pants fell to the floor. I was hard. Stiff as a board. Leslie grabbed hold of me and stroked. I continued to kiss down her chest, over her breasts, spending equal amounts of time with each. I knelt down in front of her and kissed the cutest of belly buttons. She smelled wonderful all over, like lilac flowers in the spring.
I pulled her matching black panties down and kissed between her legs. I enjoyed her scent, her taste, hearing how I pleasured her. Leslie’s hands held my head in its rightful place until it became unbearable for her. She pulled me up and wrapped a leg around my waist. I entered her while standing. She breathed in and held it for a moment. I laid her back onto the bed, still inside, moving. This night was perfect.
The Kong was treating me all right.
Chapter 49
I opened my eyes slowly the next morning. My mouth was a parched home to a wrinkled tongue. I unglued it from the roof with a big yawn.
Last night’s adventure began to populate my memory. Suddenly everything, all of it, was clear––the handholding, the kisses, her hair draping the side of her head as she mounted me. I rolled over ready for round two only to find Leslie gone.
I knew last night wasn’t a dream. Her perfume still lingered in the sheets. Yawning, I looked up at the ceiling and saw mama elephant, now with a couple more kids in tow. I could always count on the elephants being there.
Only when I finally got my ass out of bed did I notice the note.
Something came up. Sorry. Call me the next time you’re in town.
– Leslie 852-5-4335-2121
She signed the note with a plum-colored kiss. I never had someone leave me a note with a kiss.
Truthfully, it bummed me to find out Leslie left without waking me. My meeting with Sing and the gang wasn’t until later in the day, so I had the time to spare. I would be meeting the whole gang for the first time, sort of my introduction to the Fan Gang 101. With only another day in Hong Kong, I would have liked to have spent a little of it with her.
Over the course of the day, dark nasty clouds rolled in across the bay. They began relieving themselves on the city as I reached the restaurant.
Opening the flimsy door, I peeked inside. The lunch rush was over and the restaurant looked clear of all customers. I spotted Sing sitting at his usual table reading a newspaper and sipping hot t
ea. Chu was next to him, slurping noodles from a bowl.
There were other men, members of the gang I suppose, gathered around various tables. Some were chatting and drinking tea. Others were playing mahjong. Most of the men had adhered to the dress code; black suit, white shirt, red tie. The restaurant staff was nowhere to be seen.
Lee Tai, the third in command, held court at the table farthest from Sing’s. An audience of four had huddled around, captivated by what he had to say. He was speaking Cantonese so I assumed it was captivating.
Chu was the first to spot me as I entered the restaurant and waved me over. At that point it felt like high school and I was walking down the hallway where the tough kids hung out. All eyes were on me, watching every step. Keep walking, Darb. These guys need you.
It was intimidating. Who was I to come in here and tell them how to conduct business? Well for starters, I’m Darby Stansfield, telecommunications consultant to the underworld.
That was also my opening line to the group of men who sat in front of me. Sing had introduced me as a businessman, I assumed. I couldn’t understand what he was saying. Chu told me earlier that most of the men could speak and understand English and not to worry.
“Gentlemen, whether you believe it or not, what I see here is a business. You are like any other organization trying to grow; you must gain market share. In order to do this, your organization needs to work as one. Every member has a role. You are only has strong as your weakest link. I intend to find every one of these weak links and strengthen them with the help of wireless business solutions. Are there any questions so far?”
Blank stares.
These guys had absolutely no idea what I was talking about. Maybe they didn’t understand English. I looked over at Chu and he wouldn’t even look me in the eye. However Sing did. And this wasn’t a look of praise. It was a look of: How dare you embarrass me in front of my men?
If I were to have a miniscule chance of launching Get Organized, I had better get down to speaking their language quick or I would be done before I even started.
Chapter 50
The loud drumming on the metal roof was a sure sign the rain outside wasn’t letting up anytime soon. The abandoned factory was badly rusted and allowed water to leak in everywhere. There wasn’t a dry spot on the cement floor. This didn’t bother the rats much. They were everywhere.
In the center of the warehouse, under a few portable lights, two men teetered on wooden chairs. Neither of the seated men reacted to the intense white lighting shining in their faces. Both were fading in and out of consciousness. Blood covered their white shirts. It came from everywhere. There was nothing anyone could do for them now. They were too far gone.
A half circle of five large men stood in front of them––the muscle. One of the captors proceeded to dress the men back into their black suit jackets. Once the jackets were buttoned, neither of them gave the impression they were bleeding to death.
Earlier, each man had been completely stripped down and beaten. But that’s not what caused the bleeding. No the captors were given very strict orders on what to do with these two. The leader already knew not to question the method: death by one thousand cuts, or Ling Chi.
From out of the shadows a smaller man appeared. He was fashionably dressed in designer jeans and an Armani dress shirt with ornate stitching along the shoulders. In his hand he held a red tie. He slid it under the collar of the man on the left, adjusted it, and tied a perfect Windsor knot. As he straightened the tie, it wasn’t difficult to see the marking on his hand.
服从. Obey.
It had been three weeks without an incident. They wanted to give the Fan Gang a reason for hope. A reason to believe the attacks had ended. Psych!
The leader turned around and walked toward the door. The others followed. One stopped by a couple of stacked boxes and called out, “Boss, the DVDs.”
Jo Wo stopped, looked at the boxes for a minute and then said, “Leave it. Let it rot with them.”
The last man to leave killed the power to the portable lights. That was the signal. The splish-splash of tiny feet could be heard all over the building. Dinnertime.
Chapter 51
Click. Click. I pulled the product samples out of my company briefcase and placed them on the table. “Gather around, guys. I want you all to get a look at this stuff. Come on. Time is money. Chop-chop,” I said with my voice raised. I needed to take control and own this meeting. These guys were do-ers. They responded to orders. Talking was the worst thing I could do. These guys needed to understand what I had to sell through the product.
One by one the men gathered around. Shuffled was more like it. On the table were direct-connect cell phones, air chargers, mobile hotspot devices, broadband cards, and a laptop.
“Go on, pick them up. Play with them. This is the future of the gang. Fast, effective communication is key. I know this sounds like a bunch of gibberish, but it isn’t. Let’s talk about territory. Are we happy in that area? Has the gang gained or lost territory in the last year?”
The first to speak up was tiniest of them all. Tippy-toeing in at five-foot-four, he wore a hint of a mustache and his jacket appeared to be a size too big for him. I would also learn he had a voice that was higher than expected, like a kid, though he looked about twenty-two.
“My name is Shin Chang. We––we have no territory to speak of.”
There was a rush of displeasure from the peanut gallery as the brothers condemned what Shin said. He immediately bowed down and moved back into the crowd. This is not what I needed. “Shin,” I shouted, “Come back here. Finish what you were saying. I need to know what the problems are.”
Shin made his way to the front again. “I said we have no territory to speak of. Once we ruled six blocks in this area. We collect protection money from every shop owner. Now we control nothing, not even alley behind restaurant.”
“Okay, little to no territory. Loss of earnings,” I said jotting down notes. “What else? What are some of the other ways the gang makes money?”
Some of the gang members started to chuckle and whisper to each other when they heard my request. Then someone blurted out, “Prostitution.”
“Who said that?”
A brother from the back, a large one, raised his hand. He was probably about six feet tall, one hundred ninety pounds. His suit fit him well. It was tailored, probably the only suit in the room tailored and not off the rack. Now that caught my eye.
“Come forward. What’s your name?”
“Jo Kong but everyone call me Kong.”
“All right Kong, talk to me about the prostitution. How many women have you employed?”
The gang was silent. Kong, the one who brought up the topic, looked around before speaking up. “One,” he mumbled.
“Did you say one?” I asked.
Kong nodded.
Even I had to work to prevent myself from laughing a little. That’s not a ring. Nonetheless, I had to keep it straight. “Okay, how often does she work? How many customers can she service in a day?”
More silence. Kong looked around and said, “We don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
“Too hard to keep track of her.”
I continued to take notes––one asset in the prostitution ring, income unknown, as well as whereabouts.
“Okay, this is very helpful. The more I know, the better I can equip you.”
This was getting worse by the minute. The upside: It was fixable, so far.
“What about gambling?”
This time Chu spoke up, “We have gambling…”
“And you make money?”
“All the time,” said Chu.
I smiled, “Great.”
Chu chimed in, “Not so great. Hard to collect money from people. Hard to keep track of who placed bet.”
My posture deflated. “Oh, all right.” I listed the problems with the gang’s gambling ventures––unsuccessful collections and poor client inventory/inefficient betting
system.
Looking up from my pad, I glanced around at the men surrounding the table: There was not a happy face in sight. The gang’s dirty laundry had been laid out for all to see. But I was on a roll so I kept going.
The gang also tried to get involved in the lucrative up-skirt porn market. It was all the rage in the overseas markets. But with their primitive methods they were all but doomed to fail. They used the video function on a point and shoot camera and often got poor results. It didn’t help that it was strapped to a brother’s foot, who then followed women around.
“This is an easy fix guys. Lack of content is the problem here. One can only look up the same skirt for so long. Content is king.”
Since the porn website was already up, I figured it was the easiest thing to start with. We immediately attached a phone that shot HD video to a duffle bag. It would be a lot easier for a brother to position the bag under a skirt than his foot. Chu volunteered.
At the market, Chu went to work while the gang and I hung back about thirty feet or so. All was going well so far. It was a muggy day and the skirts were out in full force. We kept in touch with him via direct connect cell phones. The result? Chu acquired footage like there was no tomorrow.
When the phone’s hard drive was filled. I downloaded the footage to my laptop and cut the footage into individual skirt videos right there. I pulled out my broadband card and uploaded the content to the gang’s website. Within two hours they had twenty-five new girls showing off what’s under their skirt.
Customers could watch footage shot seconds ago. Instant updates from the Mon Kong market. This technology would give the gang an edge against similar websites who only update once a week, or even once a day.
“You see how easy it is? This is what wireless solutions can do for you.”
Later that night the gang celebrated back at the restaurant. Johnnie Walker shots poured freely and bunch of beautiful women were on hand. This was my first business deal, and the beginning of my career as a telecommunications consultant to the underworld.
Darby Stansfield Thriller Series (Books 1-3 & Bonus Novella) Page 12
