by H L Stephens
As the scene began to unfold, a woman pushing a stroller came into the frame. She was young, unassuming, and unfortunately facing away from the camera. I could see from Dorthia's stance that she was watchful, taking the usual precautions that were part of her trade. I pointed this out to Oz which brought a swift reprimand from Avery. I told Avery to shut his trap until I was done.
"Now watch what happens here," I pointed out. The young woman approached Dorthia in an indirect manner. The woman acted as though her attention was diverted elsewhere like she was looking for something or someone. Her eyes were focused on something in her hand that looked like a phone.
"You see," I said as the video played out in slow motion, "the woman uses her phone as her distraction. Then she makes contact here."
The woman bumped into Dorthia with the stroller, causing Dorthia to instinctively grab her leg. She then looked inside the stroller and smiled. The woman walked around, making sure never to face the camera. From the gestures, it was obvious she was apologizing for her assault, lifting her phone as her excuse. Dorthia turned and pointed as if offering directions. When Dorthia's face was turned away from the woman, the woman reached out and touched Dorthia's arm. Dorthia flinched, but the contact between the two women was so brief, it could have been construed as an accidental brush. The strange woman moved on, leaving Dorthia standing there alone. It was right after the woman moved on that the men came and grabbed Dorthia. One very subtle motion, which was lost to the naked eye when the video was running at full speed, was almost missed even at the slower pace. Dorthia slumped ever so slightly just before the men grabbed her.
"There," I said. "Did you see it?"
"See what?" they all asked in unison.
"Marcus, back it up to the moment just after the woman brushed against Dorthia's arm, but slow the feed speed down half again as much," I instructed.
Marcus again complied, and this time, it was Jameson's turned to get excited.
"The woman drugged her with something," he said.
"That is precisely what I was thinking," I said. "Only a person with knowledge of chemistry could identify what might have hit her system so quickly to incapacitate her after such brief contact, but the video speaks to her inability to respond to her attacker. I think her muscles were frozen. She could not move. Are there drugs out there that can produce such a response from the system so rapidly? Some kind of neuro-agent?"
Jameson blanched as he answered.
"There have been rumors of certain interested parties working on experimental drugs of this kind." Jameson said, "Heck, even our government has been experimenting with nerve agents that would paralyze muscular systems without killing the target. As far as I know there has been no evidence that anyone has progressed enough to have developed an active serum."
"I don't know Jameson," I replied, pointing at the screen. "I would say the bad people have made some progress in that respect. Oh, and there is something else you need to see. Marcus, can you fast forward to the moment when they throw the hood over Dorthia's head and drag her into the van. When you get there pause it."
Marcus did as I asked.
"Can you zoom in on that one guy's tattoos please?" I asked. "Oz, remember when you made me learn all that stuff about the Russian prison tattoo culture and what everything meant? You know so I could memorize all of the markings on Kovalski's entourage? Well that guy right there with his arm around Dorthia's neck. That is one of Kovalski's guys."
"Are you sure?" Avery asked.
"Of course I am sure. He is the one I knocked out with the Tiffany lamp. I couldn't forget him if I tried. Trust me Avery. That's the Tiffany lamp guy. I am thinking the other kidnapper might be the broom closet guy, but I can't be sure. His sleeves are pulled down."
"Did you say the broom closet guy?" Avery asked.
"Yes," I said. "He was this really big, really mean..."
"Never mind," Avery interrupted. "I don't want to know. Not right now at any rate."
"Suit yourself," I said. "The point is, the Bratva we hit a few days ago at the plant just took Dorthia. And what's worse, they are more organized and more sophisticated in this attack on her than they have been in the past, which means someone else is involved now."
"What are you thinking?" Oz asked.
"I don't know," I said, "but something tells me things just got a lot more complicated for us."
The silence that overtook the ops room was broken only by the ever-present whine of technology, and the occasional swoosh of coolant as it swirled past the processors.
"What do we do now?" I asked.
My revelation could only get us so far. Without Dorthia, our plans were sunk. Not only were we down by a man, but Dorthia was the one person with the skills to transform me into YanMei. Our entire operation to rescue Meiqiang hinged on my Asian alter-ego. The added complication of Dorthia's kidnapping transformed what had felt like a rock-solid understanding of our circumstances into uncertain watery quicksand.
"What do you mean, what do we do now?" Avery asked.
"I don't know," I said, feeling the strain of it all building inside of me. "Were you sleeping the last few minutes? Because the last time I checked, our plans just fell into cow manure the moment Dorthia got taken. Just a big ole sinking pile of dung, and we have all stepped in it. We don't even know what we are dealing with now, aside from the poop part of it. We don't know where Dorthia is or who really has her. All we know is that the Bratva are involved in taking her. Without her, our deal with the Triad is broken, so we don't have a way to get Meiqiang back, so my friend is as good as dead. It's just crap, crap, and more crap no matter which direction we turn."
"Are you done?" Avery asked. "I mean if you need a little more time with your poop talk, we can give you a few more minutes, but it isn't helping matters, so if you're done, just let me know."
"Yeah, I'm done," I said. "Still stinks like a cow patty, but I'm done."
Avery glared at me like my daddy used to do when I was one hair-width away from getting in trouble for being too sassy with him.
"Well, good, little miss smart ass," he said, "because we have work to do. You asked what we were going to do now. We are going to do exactly what we planned to do before Dorthia got taken. You are going to transform into YanMei, meet back with Meiqiang's granny, get yourself snatched by those Bratva bullies, and find your friend so we know what not to blow up. Chances are Dorthia is at the same location, which makes this a win/win situation for us. Bratva are lazy kidnappers. They probably brought her to the plant, since that seems to be their home base now. Just keep your eyes and ears open for Dorthia at the same time you are searching for Meiqiang. We'll do the rest."
"It isn't going to work," I protested.
"Why not?" Avery asked, getting in my face or as close to my face as his diminutive stature could manage. He was pressing me and pressing me hard.
"Because I can't do the makeup, damn it, that's why," I screamed. "Don't you understand? I will ruin everything. Dorthia was the one who made it work the last time. She made me YanMei. I look like a transvestite when I touch that stuff. I just screw it up when I try it."
"Then don't screw it up," Avery said.
"Why don't you go fu...." I started to say before Oz stopped me.
"Enough of that," Oz said.
"He started it," I yelled.
"You misunderstand me, Jane, when I say don't screw it up," Avery said. "What I am saying is this. You are afraid you are going to mess things up so you don't even want to try. Your fear will guarantee you never succeed. Dorthia needs you Jane and so does Meiqiang. Hell, we need you. Those Bratva sure as hell aren't going to try to snatch me. I'm too small and lovely for their taste." It made me laugh, and I didn't want to. "The point is if you don't even try, then you will never know what you are capable of. Courage isn't born out of a lack of fear. It flourishes within the hearts of those who fear and act anyways. Now is your time kiddo. Only you can decide whether you have the courage to do this or no
t. You have the balls. I've seen' em."
Avery was right. I was scared. No. I was terrified I would be the cause of everything falling apart. It was one thing when it was just me with no one depending upon me, especially not the people I cared about. The thought of letting my friends down or getting them killed filled me with indescribable dread.
Avery was right about one thing though. No one else could do this. No one else could be YanMei. I gave them all a sheepish smile.
"I'll do my best," I said.
For the first time in a long time, I felt small with the issuance of those words, like a reed boat embarking upon a long journey across an angry sea.
"That's all we're asking for," Avery said.
The crew gave me their best faces of encouragement. This dusty group of rag tag group of deadly grandpas believed in me, but they could not do this for me, which meant the path was mine to take alone. As I left the others in the ops room and made my way to Dorthia's room of magic transformation, I felt a pit of uncertainty begin to grow in my stomach. Dorthia would not be there to correct my mistakes as I fumbled my way towards becoming YanMei. She would not be there to offer her advice or encouragement. She was gone. Her life now rested in my unskilled hands.
Whatever the outcome of the day, it was futile to delay the inevitable. I ran the rest of the way to the room, all the while praying I could create enough of an illusion to get myself through the door.
Dancing With the Devil
They say the Devil is in the details. I never understood the meaning of that statement until I was preparing to tango with the sulfur spewing fiend. If you are going to be that close to the Hell raiser himself, you want to make sure he can't recognize you for who you really are or else all bets are off and your soul is forfeit.
As I sat in Dorthia's chair staring at myself in the mirror, I felt like I had already surrendered my soul into his sulfur scented hands. I had done all of the preparatory work, and my face was now a blank slate, waiting for the details and artistry that would make YanMei come alive. The problem was, the brushes were in my hand, not Dorthia's. The magnitude of the situation scared the heck out of me. My hands shook. I knew what to do; what to apply where. I simply lacked the confidence to implement the techniques. Every ounce of self-doubt bubbled to the surface and flowed out into the quivering mess that stared back at me from the looking glass.
I remembered back to when I was eleven years old when my mom convinced me I had a voice like an angel; a natural Irish soprano. She talked me into trying out for the school talent show that year singing some old song from the forties nobody had ever heard. I must have been pretty good during the tryouts because I earned a place on the program. I actually reached a point where I thought I had a chance at winning.
I practiced day after day, even adding in a few dance moves during the parts where the music played. I was fine as long as I was performing for my mom, dad, and Iggie. When the day of the performance came and I got up in front of the entire school, everything came crashing down around my head. I froze. It was the most monumental singing disaster in all recorded history. Not only did I sound like a guy going through the worst case of vocal puberty ever, I fell off the stage during one of my spins. Try recovering from something like that when you are a kid. I got in more fights over the next six months thanks to that talent show, and I vowed I would never sing in public again.
The thing was, the stakes were higher now. Failure now wouldn't mean public humiliation. It would mean the lives of at least two people I cared very deeply about. The hole I had dug for myself was far deeper than I ever could have imagined.
I had already told the Meiqiang's grandmother that a Chinese girl would be dropping by to talk to her. It would be a deadly mistake to back out of that part of the agreement. We also needed a Chinese girl as bait for the Bratva in order to gain access to the stronghold and find Meiqiang and Dorthia. It meant everything rested on my shoulders.
With enemies circling like ravenous wolves waiting for their moment to strike, I needed to be perfect, but perfection was never going to be reached with my hands shaking like a leaf in a fall breeze. I cursed myself and rose from the chair to pace the floor and try to clear my head. A cluster of bags caught my attention in the far corner of the room. They were the ones Dorthia had been so secretive about. I needed the wig I had worn as YanMei anyways, so I went over to inspect their contents.
The well wrapped wig was safely within their contents, but it was not my only prize. Inside their paper and plastic walls were the makings of a birthday celebration for me. Dorthia had bought plates and napkins, streamers and balloons. Everything one would need to commemorate the birth of a friend. Neatly wrapped gifts were among the contents as well, each with my name upon it. This unbelievable surprise melted me into tears.
"I don't remember telling anyone," I said aloud.
"We sort of figured it out," Avery said. I hadn't heard him enter the room. "We are good that way. Sorry if I startled you kid. I was bringing you your gear. Marcus wired up the frock just like he did the dress, so we'll have eyes and ears on you when you go in." Avery had bagged up the weapons he had shown me earlier, along with the clothes that were covered in explosive patches. "I figured you would need all of this as you got ready."
"Thanks," I said as I scrubbed at my eyes.
He pointed at the bags I had just discovered.
"Dorthia figured it would be a rough birthday for you being away from your folks, so she wanted to do something special for you," he said. "She thought we could celebrate after today's op. When we get her back, just pretend you didn't see any of it. She wanted it to be a surprise. She really cares about you, kid." Avery turned to go. "We all do," he added, and left me to my thoughts.
I went back and sat before the mirror once more. Dorthia deserved more from me than self-pity and surrender. I dried the tears and looked at my reflection. The spackling was still intact.
The images of Dorthia's abduction ran through my mind like a whirligig. Each detail became a snapshot that I used to build determination within me. As I went through the mental exercise, something became abundantly clear. Dorthia had been afraid. The helplessness had flashed across her face, and she had been completely alone. The realization flipped a switch inside of me.
The tremors in my hands ceased. Whatever happened this day, I would not leave Dorthia to face her terror alone. I looked at the accoutrements before me with a certainty I had never felt before. I picked up a brush and began the task of bringing YanMei to life.
When my work was complete, a beautiful Asian flower looked back at me from the mirrors of Dorthia's magical makeup station. YanMei was once again reborn, but this time she arose by my hand and my hand alone.
I put on my skin tight leather tactical body suit, strapped on every bit of weaponry I could find in the bag. I then slipped on the double layer silk frock and matching pants to finish off the look. Considering all of the gear I had secured under the silken garments, you could not tell.
The tactical body suit had leather concealment cover panels that I had added to camouflage the outlines of the weapons. There was a panel to wrap around my torso, and each for my thighs, calves, and ankles that adhered with industrial strength Velcro for a nice tight fit. I might be a bit uncomfortable, but it was a discomfort I was willing to endure if it meant I could smuggle weapons into a dangerous situation like the one I was about to face.
I might think I looked like YanMei, but I had many gauntlets left to run before I could safely say I had passed muster. First I had to pass inspection by the crew, then Dú jiàn, and finally the Bratva henchmen. When I was satisfied with what I saw in the mirror, I joined the rest of the crew. Their response to my appearance pleased me immensely. Of course, Oz was a little crass in his praise.
"Looks like you got rid of the transvestite and went for the real deal this time."
That remark got him a punch in the ribs from Avery.
"You did good kid," Avery said." In fact you look bett
er than you did the night Dorthia dressed you up."
That made me feel really good. Marcus and Jameson had their input as well, but it was Marcus who brought us all back to the task at hand.
"Listen guys," Marcus said, "I don't mean to be a killjoy here, but we are burning daylight. Jane, you need to get this meeting with Meiqiang's grandmother over fast, and we need to get to our positions if we are going to pull this off. Now, Jane, your clothing is wired in the same manner as before. We will be able to see and hear everything you do. I took the liberty of creating an ear cuff that matches what you are wearing. No need to draw attention to any one part of you." Marcus handed me a box. "Give these to Dú jiàn and have her disperse the contents to her Generals. They are special ear buds. The frequencies are controlled by us. We'll have two way communications, but they won't hear anything we don't want them to hear. When the mission is complete, I can send a signal that will fry the circuitry, making them unusable to anyone."
"Nice," I said.
"I also included a layout of the Butimen Ash plant with markers where we are going to meet," Marcus continued. "She needs to start moving her men into place immediately. We don't have a lot of time. Please try and convey to Dú jiàn that time is of the essence here."
"I will," I said. "Wish me luck."
I turned to leave, but Avery grabbed my arm.
"Take this," he said, putting something in my hand. When I looked to see what it was, I discovered it was a telescoping tactical baton with a rubber grip and carrying case. "Call it an early birthday present. It is made of hardened steel and is strong enough to break safety glass. You can jab, strike, block, or lock with it. Plus it has a wrist lanyard, making it extremely hard for someone to knock it out of your hand. Better than a broom closet or a Tiffany lamp to defend yourself if you ask me."
