The First Immortal

by Matt Elam

  He didn’t answer.

  “I made a judgment call, man. I thought I was keeping my best friends safe, but apparently Patti’s known about this shit for two years.”

  He shook his head. “Is that why you left the NFL? To play super hero in the other world?”

  I sighed.

  “Please tell me that’s not why you threw your career away, man.” He looked perplexed.

  I asked Donnie if he remembered the nightmares I’d had since I was twelve years old. The one of me being restrained by incredibly strong hands while a woman was being ripped from my arms.

  “Of course I do,” said Jinx. “You had those nightmares for ten years, right? Then they stopped when you got to Stanford.”

  “They never stopped,” I said plainly.

  Donnie stared at me now.

  “I knew you’d worry about me being away from home and still having those nightmares, so I lied and told you they were gone.”

  “Johnny, I’m sorry. I had no idea.”

  “I’m glad you worry about me, Donnie. You’re my boy, and I would be the one to worry if you stopped caring about me.”

  Donnie put his hand on my shoulder.

  “That woman in my dreams was my mother.”

  Thirty

  WHAT I HADN’T REALIZED, not until I got into college was that those visions were real, and that my mother was taken from me and pulled into the wormhole. It took me six years to find that location in the Hollows Forest.

  “So, to answer your question about me throwing away my career in the NFL? It was to find my mother. I had to see if there was a sliver of hope that she was still alive.”

  Donnie looked at me.

  “If I had to do it over. I’d choose the exact same route, every single time.”

  I saw Donnie’s eyes change in that moment. I had not seen that look for almost a decade and a half. It was the same look he’d had from grade school to college: compassion and understanding. I had gotten my brother back and I would do everything in my power to keep it that way.

  I had Donald go over the specifics of the intelligence gathered from Patricia’s people. Apparently, she had her own investigative detective who leaned on an informant named Moxy for information about Tang and his involvement with Tina Wattson.

  “I know that clown, Moxy,” I said, as we headed west. His street name was: Moxy with da’ Oxy or some dumb shit like that.

  Donald went on to say that the low-life, Moxy, knew another low-life who knew another one even lower than him who may or may not have seen Tang’s men drag a large rolled up carpet out of a vehicle and toss it in a dumpster somewhere in west LHK.

  “And if Patti’s guy is right,” said Jinx, checking his mobile, “it’s one of two possible alleys.”

  It turned out to be the second backstreet behind Ho’s Bowling & Exotic Animals Display.

  Dr. Kwok and his forensics staff were parked and out of their vehicles in less than twenty minutes of our own initial arrival.

  Donald said something on his mobile and then signed off. “Well, it looks like that anti-venom you suggested for Rodriguez’s injury worked. He’s going to make a complete recovery.”

  “Good to hear,” I said. And I meant it. Daniel Rodriguez was a good man and an outstanding cop. There weren’t too many of either of those left in Little Hong Kong these days.

  It took three members of the forensic team to lift the large carpet out of the dumpster, which was performed with great care. They laid the expensive-looking rug on the ground.

  “Turkish,” I said.

  “How do you know?” said Jinx, in an incredulous tone.

  I tapped my head with my index finger. “Stanford grad, remember? Not just a hat rack, my friend.”

  Donald rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Stanford jock,” he teased.

  As the team unturned the carpet, the body of Tina Wattson emerged. I immediately took out my mobile and scrolled to the image of her given to me by Bai.

  “Yup, that’s her alright,” said Donald. “Doc, can you verify?”

  Kwok ran a scanner - about the size of a credit card - over Tina Wattson’s body. “Wattson, Tina,” said Kwok. “Twenty-nine years of age.” He scrolled down. “Born in Florida, New York, to a Harold and Elizabeth Wattson,” he said.

  My thoughts immediately went to Bai. I had always subscribed to the motto that honesty was the best policy. This felt different, however. I cared about Bai and didn’t want to hurt her more than she’d already been.

  Donald shook me. “Hey, did you hear what Dr. Kwok just said?”

  “No.”

  “The bruises on the victim’s neck have Tang’s bio-signature on them,” said Donald.

  My head tilted to one side. “Wait. How can that be? Tang has had his fingerprints removed.”

  “What rock have you been under for the last twenty years, Mr. Jo?” jabbed Kwok. “We are now able to pick up nucleotide patterns that can identify a person with an accuracy percentage of ninety-nine point eight.”

  “So, those ligature marks belong to Benny Tang?” I said.

  “Yes,” said Donald.

  “No,” said Kwok. “ They belong to his father, Eddie Tang.”

  Thirty-One

  WE WERE NOW HEADING north, toward the Tang mansion on Sammy Davis Jr. Street. And in honor of that, I selected Something’s Gotta Give by Mr. Show Business himself. The brass section opened with a melodious boom, which had me bobbing my head.

  I turned the volume down. “Did you know that when Sammy Davis Jr. got in that car wreck and lost his eye, Sinatra footed his medical bills?”

  “Is that right?” said Donald, half listening, as he ran data through his mobile. “I still think we should bring in a tactical team for Tang’s arrest.”

  “You and I both know that half the department is on the Triad’s payroll,” I said. “I feel like it’s more dangerous for us to have LHKPD there than not.”

  Jinx shook his head in disgust. “I hate to admit it, but I think you’re right.”

  “Plus, Sifu loaned us four of his best men,” I said, thumbing to the black SUV behind us.

  “Yeah, well, I don’t know how I feel about that either,” replied Donald. “This isn’t Afghanistan or the wild west. This is our backyard. I feel like things are spiraling out of control.”

  “That’s why we have our team in place,” I told him. “Now, with you in the loop, we may just have a chance.”

  “What do you think Eddie Tang’s involvement with Miss Ray’s friend is all about?” said Donald.

  “I don’t know. But I have a feeling we’re about to find out.” I turned up the volume.

  Due to surveillance, we chose not to park directly on SDJ Street. Instead, we parked two blocks down on Kennedy Street. We got out of Luck and I met up with the Red Lotus crew. All four men were above average height, tall for Chinese, and looked like elite fighters. All trained by Sifu and myself.

  “This is Detective Jinx’s show, okay?”

  The men nodded respectfully.

  Jinx stepped up. Marine Corps officer reflexes rushing back to him. “Okay, men, listen up. This is a very simple, straightforward arrest. You tracking?”

  The men nodded again.

  “I represent the LHK police department. I have the warrant for Eddie Tang’s arrest. I show him the warrant. He gets in the SUV with you four. Tracking?”

  “Yes,” said the men of Red Lotus.

  “Okay, I assume you all, except Jo here, are packing?” Jinx knew I never carried a gun.

  The men looked at me.

  “They each have a set of knives,” I said. “Just like I do.”

  Donald panned back and forth - between me and the four men - in disbelief. “What’s a knife going to do in a gun fight?”

  “More than you know, Donnie. Trust me.”

  He sighed. “Okay, let’s move out.”

  When we were within one hundred yards of the Tang mansion, the Red Lotus squad began to disperse in different directions.
/>   “Where the hell are they going?” whispered Donald.

  “Relax. They’re securing our flanks.”

  Donald eyed the perimeter of the place. “Those iron fences are at least twenty feet high. How are they going to cover our flanks?”

  “They will,” I assured him. “You and I are just going to do our thing, and follow your initial plan. If things go awry, we’ve got them for support.”

  We approached the gate, and stood in front of the speaker. Soon, a man’s voice said, “What is it?”

  Donald identified himself and asked for Eddie Tang.

  “Mr. Tang is not available,” was the response.

  Pretty much the reception we expected. Jinx continued.

  “Please tell Eddie Tang that we have Miss Bai Ray in custody, and she is requesting to speak with him.”

  Literally, within three minutes, both Eddie and Benny Tang were walking toward the front gates. Unfortunately for us, they were accompanied by twelve of their henchmen.

  This is going to be interesting, I thought.

  Thirty-Two

  THERE WE STOOD. SQUARED off, and a mere foot from one another. After the initial stare downs and other dumb shit that males partake in, Eddie Tang finally broke the primitive ritual.

  “What is this business about Miss Ray?” he said.

  “I’m afraid I can’t tell you until you open the gates, sir,” countered Jinx.

  Benny Tang glared at me. “You better not have laid a fucking hand on my girl, Jo.”

  I had to literally bite my tongue in order to suppress a response. I wanted to tell him that Bai and I had laid both hands and glands on one another, but didn’t. But dammit, I wanted to.

  With a wave of Eddie Tang’s hand, the gates came open, turning outward, forcing me and Donald to take three large steps backward.

  My body tightened just a bit; enough to move optimally. I watched Donald carefully as he took one cautious step forward. A second.

  I relaxed my shoulders and exhaled subtly, imperceptible to the human eye. Next, my eyes began to scan the men in detail. All twelve were packing heat. Three of them wore their firearms on the left side. I couldn’t pick up a pistol for the Tangs. I switched my First Immortal breathing to my sense of hearing.

  I could hear the vibrations of the air deflecting off something metallic around Benny Tang’s waistline.

  Okay, I thought. He’s got a blade of some sort.

  Donald took another step.

  I needed for him to stall a bit more because our guys weren’t in place yet. I couldn’t tell him in Cantonese. Donnie spoke it to some extent, but the Tangs and their goons were all fluent.

  He took a fourth step.

  Slow down, Donnie, I thought.

  As he took another step toward the Tangs, I spoke the only other language that I knew Donnie would comprehend. And I prayed no one else would.

  “Padashdat,” I said under my breath, which was Russian for: wait. I hoped that four years of the pa ruski language at LHK High School would trigger some sort of recognition in his brain.

  Donald stooped and turned his head halfway in my direction. I could tell the wheels were turning hard. Then I saw the light bulb go off in his head. He slowly reached into his left breast pocket.

  Tang’s men began to go for their guns.

  Donald stopped. “Hold up, now,” he said. “I’m reaching for my mobile, okay?”

  The men kept their hands on their pieces, ready to deploy them, if need be.

  He moved slower than before, eventually producing his phone. “I want to show you the info I have on Miss Ray.”

  “Okay, come on,” said Eddie Tang, impatiently waving him forward.

  My peripherals caught a glimpse of our guys crouched down low and coming in at a steady pace. Like me, they’d too sat in the dreaded horse stance for years. Their legs were as hard as iron and as endurable as a Kenyan marathoner.

  “Ty vidish?” I said. Do you see?

  “Da,” said Donald, softly. He now took two regular steps toward the Tangs.

  Our Red Lotus team was twenty yards out.

  Donald turned his mobile’s screen toward Eddie Tang. “Eddie Tang, this is a warrant. You are under arrest for the murder of Tina Wattson.”

  The longest two seconds in the history of mankind ensued as Eddie Tang’s neural synapses made sense of what had just transpired. Next, his eyes were ablaze with anger. “Shoot these motherfuckers!” he yelled.

  The twelve henchmen went for their pistols, but like Doc Holliday from an old western, Jinx had drawn his 9mm and had put two Blue Mantis thugs on the ground.

  I was right behind him, unleashing one of my two throwing blades, employing an underhand grip. Benny Tang ducked and the tip of the knife found its way into the right carotid artery of the goon behind him, which was my intended target all along.

  Each of the four members of the Red Lotus had also dispatched their knives into the enemy, dropping four more. Next, they engaged in hand-to-hand combat with the remaining gangsters.

  Donald pounded two rounds into a man’s chest.

  Four thugs plus two Tangs left.

  Eddie Tang and one of his men peeled off and were on the retreat.

  Donald’s gaze locked in on Eddie Tang, and he set his sights for a lower body shot.

  A six-inch blade flew end-over-tip and the teeth caught Donald on the dorsum of his supporting hand. He yelled out and his shot carried way to the right, striking the side of the house.

  It was Benny Tang who had made the surgical-like toss. I stepped forward aggressively and launched a rear thrust kick to his lower abdomen, which he low parried and countered with a ridge hand to my neck. I instinctively stuck a forearm up to meet it while bending my knees to clear the blow. I threw three chain punches down the pipe, which he easily blocked with three pak sao, slapping hands. But it was a diversion for the low power round kick to the outer thigh that I wanted.

  Crack. The kick was so fast, deep, and pinpointed, that Benny Tang crashed to the ground instantly, writhing in pain.

  “You okay?” I asked Donald, checking his hand.

  “I’m good, but Tang is getting away.”

  “Come on,” I said, turning, and moving toward Luck. “I think I know where he’s headed.”

  Thirty-Three

  DONALD GRABBED A FIRSTAID kit I stored in the trunk of Luck. He disinfected the wound on his hand while I raced down I-210, heading east. As we approached the mouth of the Hollow’s Forest, we spotted a silver hybrid SUV.

  “Has to be Tang’s,” I said, pulling up next to the vehicle.

  Donald had taken out his piece and cautiously pushed the passenger door open. I had a throwing blade in hand and came around to one side in order to cover him.

  “Windows are tinted, so be careful,” whispered Donald. He went for the driver side handle, and then stopped. He looked at me.

  “You see anyone in the vehicle with those super sonic senses of yours?” he said.

  I exhaled, and relaxed my body. I breathed in sharply and panned the entire hybrid.

  “Nothing. He’s on the move.” I began running toward the forest’s opening. “Let’s go!” Donald sprinted after me.

  Fortunately for us, we still had some natural light to work with this time. It made ambulating through the uneven terrain a lot easier. I just hoped that Donnie’s trick knee didn’t give out on us.

  “Here,” I said, cutting hard left and ducking under a large broken branch from a Redwood tree. We hurdled plants and performed a balancing act from one rock to the next while trying not to get shoe-strung tackled by the large roots protruding from the ground.

  The double rock formation was in view when something whizzed by our heads and contacted a tree behind us.

  “Shit,” said Donald, as he crouched.

  I peered through the foliage to catch a glimpse of Eddie Tang and his man making their way to the portal site. Lucky for us, my First Immortal skills were sharp today.

  I reached into
my pocket and pulled out a clean strip of tissue paper. I tore it into two pieces, rolled them up and stuck one in each ear. “Here. Grab my shoulder and stay with me. You got it?”

  “Yeah, copy that,” said Jinx.

  We moved forward. I was glad, especially now, that I had Donnie by an inch in the height department. I could act as his full length shield.

  “Take a shot over my shoulder if you’ve got one,” I commanded.

  “Copy that.”

  We were trotting along at a decent pace now. Not a sprint, but not a jog either. I heard a gun’s chamber explode and then caught a shimmer of light reflecting off of the bullet. It reminded me of a silver firefly making a beeline toward my chest.

  I zigzagged right and then left, and spun around, placing my right hand on Donald’s hip to clear him from the path. The round zipped by us. As I maneuvered us back in place, he looked for the shooter. He saw the man’s black blazer, and took a shot.

  He missed, and began cursing.

  We pushed forward. I picked up the pace.

  Crack. Crack. This time, two metallic specs came our way, one coming in low and the other high. If I laid out flat, Donnie would most likely catch the low round. If we jumped the low round, I’d get hit high.

  I did the only thing that came to mind at that short moment’s notice. I grabbed Donald’s arm, slung it over me like I was preparing for a Judo throw, and forced us both into a shoulder roll.

  We hit the earth with a audible, thud. Fortunately, Donnie didn’t tighten up too much, and we both sprung to our feet.

  “You good?” I said, not taking my focus off Tang and his goon.

  “Jesus, Johnny,” said Donald, panting. “Yeah, man, I’m good.”

  “We can’t let Tang through that shell,” I said. “If he gets to the Second Sun, he could disappear forever.”

  Like a true Marine, Donnie slammed his hand down on my shoulder and shook off the dizziness. “Let’s go get him.”

  Thirty-Four

  WHEN WE CLOSED IN on the rock formation, Eddie Tang was attempting to find the bi-layer of the portal. Jinx and Tang’s man pointed their pieces at one another. I took out my blade, ready to dispatch it if necessary.