by Paul Knox
“Hurry!” she yelled, throwing the lifeboat’s door open again.
Sandy was already guiding the women and girls out. They rushed with a panicked urgency. Sandy passed the women to Reece like sacks of potatoes, and she practically threw them inside the lifeboat. When all the women were safely inside, Sandy untied the rope around the container while Reece undid the one around her waist.
They shut and latched the lifeboat’s door right as another wave sent the boat tumbling. They popped back up and Reece only saw two of the containers left. The one Sandy and the women had been in was now headed for the ocean floor.
Following the Black Hawk’s spotlight, Reece motored in the direction of shore. Everyone had been battered, displaying bruises, bloody noses and lips.
It took almost three hours to get back to the port, and Reece lost count of how many times they were thrashed about by waves, adding to the bruises and blood.
Once they arrived to the dock, Reece kept the boat from drifting while Sandy fastened it in place with the same ropes they had used earlier. One by one, the trafficking victims stepped out onto the shore, assisted by Sandy. No one said anything, but Reece could sense the relief.
Reece was the last one to step foot on the ground. After she did, the Black Hawk’s spotlight turned off and it vanished into the night.
They all ran down the dock and to the land, looking for cover. They found the large ramadas erected over shipping containers where Sandy had hidden a day earlier. Out of the rain and protected from the strong winds, Reece encouraged the victims to call relatives from her phone.
Rain drops plinged the top of the ramada’s metal roof. Reece imagined that same plinging sound atop the BMW Mario waited in. She needed to get back to him at the makeshift airport.
Once the women had all made calls, Reece asked them in Spanish, “Does everybody have a ride out of here?—or does anybody need more help?”
Most of the women had a relative or friend coming for them, and the few who didn’t would be taken care of by others in the group. They would be okay.
During all of this, Reece heard the distant sound of police sirens rapidly approaching.
Sandy whispered to her, “I’m glad they’ve secured transportation. Because I wouldn’t trust the Policía Nacional Civil.”
“Neither would I,” she answered. “But by now, dozens of people know these girls are here, and quite a few have family on their way. Plus, their kidnapper is probably dead.”
“I wouldn’t bet on Kai’s death, Reece. There were two lifeboats aboard that ship. One on each side.” He motioned in the direction of the sirens, exhaling deeply. “But not all of the PNC are corrupt. I agree the girls will be okay.” He paused, squinting in thought. “Although…”
“‘Although’ what?”
“We have to go. I’m a wanted man. There are a few dirty PNC who will shoot me on sight with no questions asked, no matter the consequences or who is around.”
Beyond the ramada and shipping containers they huddled against, tires crunched gravel and sirens blared as the first of the cars parked. Then the shouting voices of officers could be heard through the howling winds.
Reece gave the women and girls one last look and said, “Adiós.”
She noticed Sandy looking at one of the women specifically, who was about her own age. The woman waved bye to him and smiled, and he nodded respectfully in her direction.
Many of the others offered genuine expressions of appreciation to Reece and Sandy, an odd contrast to their rain-soaked clothing and ragged appearance. Sandy half-waved as though he had done nothing of importance.
Reece faced her father. “Well then…we better be going.”
Sandy spun around and they took off running in the opposite direction as the PNC.
26
“ALLO?” Konstantin asked, answering his phone.
Shanahan listened for a moment. He decided against saying anything and hung up. The Hound program only needed a couple seconds.
Then he began analyzing the contents of Konstantin’s phone, looking for any connection to Kai Castro. But there didn’t seem to be anything on Kai or his brothers. No numbers, no texts, nothing.
However, there was another number that Konstantin had been recently in contact with. And this particular phone number, with its eleven digits, was distinctly Chinese.
Is this the green dragon?
Shanahan dialed, hoping to scan the phone. No one picked up.
Shanahan decided to try again shortly, but in the meantime, he still needed to sift through Konstantin’s mountain of text messages and emails.
He found a text message thread to the same Chinese number. This Chinese individual had planned to be the buyer of the trafficking victims. There was also recent banter between Konstantin and the individual about capturing the Sandman for a high price.
Shanahan checked the date stamp of the message. It was sent prior to Sandy’s capture aboard Kai’s ship.
Then something else caught Shanahan’s attention. Alarmed, Shanahan realized there was more at stake than he had believed.
27
REECE AND SANDY had stopped running. They had made it to the end of the last row of shipping containers, but were now waiting for a moment to break loose. The Policía Nacional Civil officers were surrounding the place and making escape difficult.
A flashlight beam swung around the corner and lit up the pair. Without a moment of hesitation, they both dodged around a container corner and split up, fleeing in different directions down the narrow aisles.
A flashlight beam bounced up and down, following Sandy. “Alto!” the PNC officer yelled to him.
Reece made it to a clump of bushes on the far side of the containers when gunshots erupted.
“Sandy,” she whispered to herself.
Soon after, Reece made out the vague shape of someone pushing through the bushes about ten yards away. She moved in that direction.
“Psst!” she hissed.
It was Sandy. He had made it through. “This way,” he said, motioning for Reece to follow him.
They crouched low under sporadic trees next to the road, running through the brush. They dodged the miscellaneous headlights of cars that dared to be out. Within minutes, they arrived to a 90s Ford pickup with a two-tone gray exterior.
Sandy slipped a key out from above the driver’s side tire, which had been tucked up into the body of the truck.
Once inside and driving away, Reece joked, “This is your ride? The Sandman drives a twenty-five-year-old POS?”
“It is quite the low profile vehicle, in my humble opinion, dear Reece. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“I’d agree we look like quite the pair with your bright orange T-shirt and my ripped up shaggy crop top.”
“While in a hurricane,” Sandy added. “We do what we must to survive.” He peered through the windshield waterfall and rapidly swishing wipers. “I have somewhere we need to go.”
“Me too. There’s a kid I left at El Jocotillo, hours ago. It’s close.”
“I’ve been to that pocket-sized dirt runway before. Is that where you found the Black Hawk?”
Reece nodded. “Shanahan pulled some strings to arrange it.”
“Wonderful man, Shanahan is. Glad he’s on board with this conundrum. However, regarding our destination…we do my stop first.”
“I don’t think so,” Reece protested.
“Listen, if the child has been waiting since you left the farmer’s field, his well-being can endure an additional half hour. And if it cannot, then my stop may be even more necessary.”
“What’s so necessary, Sandy?”
“We need to retrieve my arsenal.”
Before Reece could respond, her phone rang. It was Shanahan.
“Talk to me,” she answered.
“Did you make it to Sandy and the women?”
“Sandy’s sitting next to me and the women are safe. Give my regards to Kennedy Ross. Her contact, Ambrosia, is one helluva pilot.”<
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“I will. I better send her a Christmas card and some See’s this year.”
“But I didn’t get Kai,” Reece continued. “He’s missing.”
“There’re more people involved than Kai Castro and a new green dragon. I think The Association is about to be reborn. I have another name for you. It’s a guy who has a bounty on Sandy’s head, but also plans on delivering him to the new green dragon. You’ll never believe who he is.”
“Let me guess. The new red dragon, and his name is Konstantin?”
“Why do I even bother working?” Shanahan jested. “Do you know who the green dragon is, too?”
“Not yet. Any leads?”
“I have a number that I found on Konstantin’s phone.”
“Konstantin’s phone?”
“The equipment you found at Alderidge’s home is amazing. I can copy anybody’s SIM card in two seconds if they answer the line.”
“Where has that tech been all these years?”
“With some other toys I can’t wait to check out.”
“I bet. Keep trying this green dragon. I want to find out why some new version of The Association is converging here in El Salvador. I don’t believe it’s solely due to Sandy’s presence here. Any ideas, Shanahan?”
“Maybe. I found some strange texts. Treasure.”
“I don’t think I heard you right. It sounded like you said ‘treasure.’”
“I did. Gold tablets from ancient Mayans. I’ve been digging up info all night, trying to find something tangible.”
Reece was silent.
“You there?” Shanahan asked.
“Yes…sorry, but you confirmed something that I can’t ignore any longer. I wouldn’t have thought we’d be treasure hunting in a thousand years. Don’t we stick with normal things, like kidnapping and murder?”
“There seems to be plenty of that in the history of these tablets. How do you know about them?”
“I met a boy from the Pipil tribe down here with an interesting story to tell. And Kai’s two brothers were after gold in their village. It can’t be a coincidence. But do we even know if these tablets are real?”
“There’s no actual proof, Reece.”
“Of course not. Probably just tribal mythology and insane, violent psychopaths. Maybe this investigation is normal after all. If Kai is alive, I have to stop him.”
* * *
Twenty minutes after driving away from the port, Sandy pulled into the parking lot of the Royal Decameron Salinitas, a fancy beach hotel currently being pummeled by winds and rain.
“Your arsenal is here?” Reece asked skeptically.
“I had to keep it somewhere.”
At the front desk, a well-groomed young man stood ready behind the counter in a crisp white shirt.
“I would like to retrieve my belongings in the safe, por favor,” Sandy said to the clerk.
“May I see your ID?” he asked.
“I apologize, but I lost my wallet and phone in the storm outside. I have neither an ID nor a room key. But I do believe you have my credit card on file? I can verify my sixteen digit number. I trust that you will find that information satisfactory for a replacement key and retrieval of my belongings?”
“Can you pull up your registration by email?” the clerk asked.
“Of course.” Sandy turned to Reece, who then handed him her phone. He logged into an email account and displayed his registration.
After verifying the registration and card number, the clerk made a new room key and retrieved a very large, hard suitcase, which he wheeled out to Sandy. “Here you are, Mr. Chotsky.”
Reece eyed him and mouthed, “Chotsky?”
Sandy grinned and shrugged.
“Is the gift shop still open?” Reece asked.
“Not at this hour, I’m sorry. Tomorrow they open at 6 AM.”
“Could a two hundred dollar tip get it open?” Sandy asked casually.
“Let me make a call, Mr. Chotsky,” the clerk responded.
Shortly thereafter, Reece browsed the shirts inside the gift shop while a smiling woman stood ready at the cash register. The usual tourist options were available. Catchy cerveza sayings and images of El Salvador lined the shelves.
Reece settled on a black T-shirt with the words No Jodas across the front in white.
Sandy looked at her questionably. “Are you aware that No Jodas is a Salvadoran saying that translates to ‘don’t kid around with me,’ but a bit more vulgar?”
“Yup.”
On the way to the counter, she pulled out cash from an ATM.
“I’ll transfer two hundred into your account very soon,” Sandy said.
“No need. Michael left me a couple bucks.” Reece winked at him and then walked to the smiling woman behind the register. She set the shirt on the counter.
“Do you accept American dollars?” Reece asked in Spanish.
In near-perfect English, the woman responded, “Yes, no problem.”
Reece handed her ten Andrew Jacksons, and one more for the shirt. “Thanks for coming down to open the shop.”
The woman responded, “Anytime you need something, you can call me personally. I have great connections to get you the vacation of your dreams. The weather outside is not ideal, but once it passes I can get you a personal tour through San Salvador, or even a guide to see the Cihuatán pyramid if you want. Anything. Just come see me.”
After Reece and Sandy left the shop, they headed to his hotel room.
“Forgive me,” Sandy mentioned as they took the elevator up to the third floor, “but I overheard you discussing the green dragon with Shanahan.”
The elevator dinged and the doors opened. Sandy stepped out first.
Reece followed, talking in a hushed tone. “Chang is here…alive. Xie found him after your mishap.”
Sandy stopped mid-stride and looked back with what might have been the first confused expression Reece had ever seen on his face. “Chang is alive?”
“Crazy, I know. He’s been hiding this whole time. Said he wanted to keep me safe.”
Sandy returned to his usual nonchalant self and he continued walking to the room. He muttered, “You hardly need being kept anything, much less, safe.”
“What do you know about the green dragon?” Reece asked.
They reached Sandy’s room and he swiped the keycard over the automatic lock. The little red light turned green and it clicked.
As he opened the door, he began, “His name is—”
Then he stopped and stared. Reece immediately saw what had alarmed him. His room had been broken into.
“There’s no way this was Kai,” Reece said. “He was on the cargo ship. The green dragon?”
“Possibly…but this looks sloppy. It doesn’t resemble the hallmarks of his style.”
“Konstantin,” Reece and Sandy said at the same time.
“Regardless of whom,” Sandy added, “it’s not safe to be here.”
“Let me change my shirt.” Reece went into the bathroom and removed her soaked, ripped shirt, throwing it in the little waste bin. After pulling the new one on, she stared at the No Jodas logo.
My sentiments exactly.
They left the room and headed back to the pickup. Exiting the sliding glass doors of the hotel lobby brought them right back into the chaos of the storm outside.
“I hope this hurricane isn’t too much of a hindrance,” Reece said loudly, over the noise of the downpour smacking the asphalt. “As if we didn’t have enough to deal with already.”
Sandy looked up at the black sky, seemingly unaware of the wetness. “The rain is the least of my worries. If anything, it’s cover. Noisy and dark, and most people are hiding away.”
He hoisted the suitcase into the back of the pickup. Reece eyed it. As if he knew what she was thinking, he said, “It’s waterproof.”
They jumped inside the Ford and Sandy started the engine.
“You didn’t give me a name yet,” Reece said, strapping her seatbelt on.
“But of course, Reece. The green dragon…his name is Yunru.”
28
THE GREEN DRAGON
SOMEWHERE AROUND MIDNIGHT, Yunru glanced at the bright crescent moon which lit up the clear Los Angeles sky in southern California. Then his gaze returned to the city, still bustling and in full view from his backyard vantage point. The skyscrapers and the vast metropolis surrounding were all visible beyond his lush mansion atop the hills northwest of Hollywood.
He stood next to a rectangular pool, which was continuously fed by a man-sized copper fountain resembling a traditional Chinese dragon. The copper’s outer layer had turned to a green patina long ago, protecting the metal underneath, but hiding its radiance.
Unlike the moon, he mused. The moon doesn’t hide its shine. Yunru positioned himself like both the moon and copper. He often stayed protected. Yet at the darkest hours would shine with his natural brilliance.
Yunru’s first in command, Aiguo, approached from the mansion. He came to stand beside Yunru, but remained slightly behind. Aiguo seemed to stare at the city but his focus remained on his boss.
“Lindon has arrived,” he said.
Without even a glance, Yunru replied, “I will see him now.”
Aiguo nodded and returned to the house, disappearing inside.
Yunru intimately watched over the distance. His green dragon empire stretched over the entire country. And at this critical juncture in time, a dragon was needed to rule The Association. Yunru was needed.
In his pocket, his phone vibrated. But this number should not be calling. The phone this number belonged to should be far out at sea, unable to receive service.
But it wasn’t.
Yunru answered. “I don’t like delays, Kai Castro.”
“His daughter had a Black Hawk—” Kai began.
“And you failed?” Yunru interrupted, asking lightly with a subtle hint of innocence—not conveying his immediate irritation.
Kai’s cargo-ship failure meant far more to Yunru than Kai could possibly fathom. Kai had just unwittingly delivered news to Yunru that caused frustration for multiple reasons.
