by Purple Hazel
That same night, Ozzie Guerrero and the Dallas Wranglers travelled to Mexico City to take on the “Aztecas”. It was their last preseason game before the opening match with Detroit in another week, and this time it was against a bitter division rival whose players—and fans!—were just about as nasty and vicious as those Brits had been the week before. In fact, the coaches had to fly them in the night before just to make sure the team had an extra day to get used to the altitude—about 2250 meters above sea level.
But that was also to make sure they got to their hotel safely. Azteca fans were known to hurl objects at the team’s buses whenever they played down there. They hated Dallas more than any team in the PMA. Hated them with a passion that bordered on blood vengeance.
Meanwhile, halfway across the world, Zero and Young-Min Jo had settled into their hotel, the Mandarin Oriental Pundong, after arriving at Pudong International Air Terminal and renting a passenger van near the facility. Min-Pharma’s staff had arranged the flight as well as the hotel for them—a very swank five-star property located right along the Huangpu River. It looked out over the river to The Bund, a long, well-maintained riverfront walkway extending along the western bank for one and a half kilometers.
The commercial shoot was scheduled to “start” at 22:00 hours, and would take most of the night. The plan was to take over a fancy restaurant located in the famed Oriental Pearl Tower after the kitchen closed, and set up a scene with restaurant “customers”—mostly movie extras posing as patrons—laughing, and joking and enjoying themselves immensely. That was a popular thing with folks in Shanghai. They still referred to themselves as “Shanghainese”, and as a culture, they loved to go to dinner in large groups, eating and drinking the night away.
Their drink of choice was typically brandy, or an amber-colored wine called Shaoxing (golden rice wine) which is served warm in bottles, then poured into cocktail glasses or small bowls for sipping. Young-Min Jo was to be seated in a large group of beautiful young ladies, all in their mid- to late twenties, toasting and talking, laughing at his jokes, while peppy dance music was dubbed over. They’d be a lively bunch, and Young-Min—naturally—was to be portrayed as the center of attention.
The next day, the crew was to move the set to the renovated Shanghai Race Club, an old facility dedicated to the Chinese obsession with horseracing and sports betting. There he was to be surrounded with even more good-looking young people placing bets on horse races that were shown on large video screens.
More brandy. More rice wine. More laughing and carrying on—the idea being that an active man seeking the high life would be seen in such places. The narrator for the commercial would speak in Mandarin, and the commercials would air on Chinese Ultravision in just a few months...
However, the day they arrived, Zero suggested they go for a jog along The Bund, which was located in the old city, just across the river from their hotel. There she hoped they’d have some more time to chat and let her hear more of his thoughts on things. Like Kwang-Min had directed her, it was vital that she learn as much as possible about what he was planning on, especially regarding his orders to return to Space Programme in a couple months.
There were two bodyguards accompanying them on the trip. Zero directed them to park the rented passenger van in a public lot. Then, as an added precaution, she had them trail along behind several meters, just to make sure no one attempted an abduction. In Shanghai, with as many enemies as Young-Min’s brother had in the Far East, he’d be an easy target to kidnap and ransom back to the corporation.
Alone with the young man for an hour or two, checking out the sites of the sprawling city and the lovely riverfront, she hoped the young ensign would reveal his intentions. Was he going to stay on, and continue working for Kwang-Min Jo? Or was he going to leave it all behind and report back to Darmstadt for duty? She certainly knew what he wanted from her—and he’d get it, no question about that—probably that afternoon in their hotel room right before the shoot! But what was he thinking? That’s what she needed to find out.
“Lovely isn’t it? The city I mean,” she asked, huffing and puffing as they jogged along the winding sidewalk. There were thousands of people out that day, enjoying the weather on this hot, sunny afternoon. It had rained most of the morning, leaving the city muggy and humid—hottest part of the year the locals would say. But now the sun had broken through the clouds and folks were enjoying the welcome respite.
“Yeah...gorgeous…” he replied, trotting along, and checking out the people as they passed. His shirt was already spotting with sweat stains, and his skin was oozing moisture along his temples and under his arms. Still, it felt good to get out and exercise.
The shoot would be set up in the revolving restaurant at the top of the Oriental Pearl Tower. It rotated around every sixty minutes or so, to give patrons a view of the entire city. Unfortunately, Young-Min expected to see nothing of that while he was working. No, they’d likely be busy until 03:00 or even 05:00 to get the scene just right. He’d have to say that stupid one-liner again, too. This time in Mandarin. And they’d make him do several takes until the director had just what he wanted.
Zero waited a little while before continuing. “So...have you given it any more thought...that stuff we talked about on the flight?”
She was referring mainly to what he’d said on the trip from Mallorca Spain to Toronto, but Young-Min knew what she meant. His heart was no longer in the project, and there was no use in recanting. He thought the ads were idiotic. Frankly, he was sick of the whole thing. And for that matter, Earth itself suddenly seemed like one big foreign country to him—one he felt little connection with. He wouldn’t have told her something like that of course (that would sound ridiculous) but in his heart of hearts, he was already missing his old friends from the Santa Maria. Weird as it might have seemed, he did. Wished he was back up there in space with them sometimes.
“The product?” he asked, “you mean what I said about the product? Or the company?”
“Sure,” she said, panting as they sped up. “The product. The company. Your brother. All of it. You seemed like you wanted to just walk away from it a few days ago.” She then swerved in front of him to maneuver around a woman walking behind a hover-stroller with a baby in it. Young-Min accelerated and caught up to her.
“Yeah, I guess it’s kind of like that. I don’t...I mean, seriously if you think about it...what I was saying on the flight about Enimen? The active ingredients are really good for you...I’m not denying that. I agree with you there. But, in six months or so...folks are gonna figure out...it won’t really do shit for you unless you’re working out and eating right to begin with. And if you’re doing those things...you don’t need a fucking pill to make you feel like you’re healthy. Proper diet ’ll do most of that anyway. Am I making sense?”
That was precisely the thing she was expecting him to say. Such a naïve person, Young-Min Jo. He just couldn’t grasp what it was truly about. The whole reason to advertise the drug that way was to get customers excited about improving their lives. “Get ’em motivated again,” as Kwang-Min might say. God, how it’d worked on him, that’s for sure!
But she chose her words carefully as usual. No use arguing with him. It wasn’t her job anyway. If he was too myopic to see the bigger picture—even if he was a chemist—then there was little she could do for him. Humans, as a species, rarely act rationally, based on known facts. As individuals, occasionally. As a group, hardly ever.
“Oh yes...yes I do see your point,” she answered (lying). “However, you’ve got one more spot to do tonight...one more night in front of the camera to carry this off...and you know how your brother is counting on you.” To this, Young-Min had to concede her logic. He’d given his word and committed himself to the job. Even if it had turned into a farce, he’d made promises he had to keep—so he would.
“You’re right, Zero,” he said panting from the long jog down the riverfront. It had pretty much turned into a run by then. Meanwhile thos
e big bodyguards were having a devil of a time keeping them in sight. Zero sensed this and slowed down to a trot, telling Young-Min they needed to let them catch up. In a half kilometer it’d be time to turn around anyway, and they still had a long way back to their rental car.
“We’d better slow up, baobèi,” she suddenly commented, panting. “Those guards of ours have to keep an eye on us. If there was ever a good opportunity for someone to knock you off...this would be it.” She paused and checked out the crowd around them as she trotted along. “Look around you. If one of the boss’s rivals wanted to nab you here, right off this sidewalk, no one could save us unless our guards caught up in time.”
Young-Min slowed to a trot as well, and started eyeballing people in the crowd. It was rude to do this in China, he’d already been told that several times, but he couldn’t help himself. “You mean...they’d try to abduct us? Here?” he asked nervously. This baffled him. It also made him terribly anxious. He suddenly felt vulnerable. He’d soon wish he hadn’t asked her to clarify.
“Yep. They sure could,” answered Zero, still looking straight ahead. She seemed unfazed. But there was more...and she felt inclined to elaborate. “The gangs here—the ones who know how to kidnap famous people and ransom them—they’ll rush right up and snatch you. Knock me over the head. Drag you away. Shove you in a van. Oh yeah, they’re quick. I’ve heard stories.”
Young-Min felt a pit in his stomach. The rest he really didn’t want to know, but Zero wasn’t finished. She went on to detail for him what might happen next.
“And then, you know what they’ll do?” she said coldly, lowering her voice just in case anyone nearby understood English. “They’ll cut off one of your fingers and mail it to Min-Pharma headquarters with a bloody ransom note. It’ll tell how much they want us to pay them if we ever want to see you alive again.” She dodged another pedestrian by circling around them before continuing.
“And that’s if you’re lucky. A pinky, a toe, one of your ears. That’s if they’re feeling in a good mood that day. If they don’t particularly like you...they might slice off something more vital.”
Now Young-Min truly wanted her to stop talking. He’d heard enough. But she had only one more cryptic comment to make, and that was this: “Of course it’s all a scam really. They won’t ever release you, you see? That’s not how they play the game. These guys over here in China. They’re ruthless. Even if we do pay the ransom, and of course I’m sure your brother will cough up the money—rest assured—they’ll still most likely murder you. And they’ll almost always torture you to death, very slowly. Very cruelly. Leaving nothing left to bury when they’re done.”
“Okay,” interrupted Young-Min. “I get the picture. In fact, I think we’ll turn back right now and let those bodyguards catch up. How about you? Are you uh, ready yet?”
Zero snickered. She was only having fun with him. Truth was, if anyone got near him that looked like a threat, she’d snap their necks. She knew five ways to kill a man with her bare hands—and if there were three or four goons attempting to grab Young-Min off that hot sidewalk in broad daylight—with plenty of room to maneuver—at best it might take her the better part of thirty seconds to eliminate them. It’s not like they’d be Ninjas after all. Just thugs working for a local crime boss.
“I was just fucking with you, baobèi. Relax,” she said, as Young-Min came to a stop, sweating profusely, and panting. She’d obviously unsettled him. “You have nothing to worry about. I’ve got you covered. Bringing the guards along was just a precautionary measure.” She now stood with her hands on her hips grinning slyly. “If anyone bothers you, I promise, I’ll take them out. When we go on these trips with Kwang-Min, it’s the same situation. We think of everything that can go wrong and prepare for it. Even the rental car we’re driving. It’s all done under false identities to keep the bad guys from knowing where we are. I’ve got informants in every city we go, just for good measure.”
Young-Min sighed and nodded. He then smiled uncomfortably. “Yeah, well, let’s uh...head on back to the hotel anyway,” he said. “What do you say to that? Maybe you can show me some more of your...moves.” Zero laughed. “More sex? Are you sure?”
He nodded happily. They’d tried screwing on the countertop in the lavatory on the airship flight from Toronto, but it was too cramped to do a proper job of things. Figured they’d wait until they made it to Shanghai. She turned back toward the parking lot and playfully slapped him on the butt as she trotted past. “Okay then, baobèi. You talked me into it. Let’s go...”
By the time Zero and Young-Min made it back to the car though, jogging back up The Bund to the parking lot, those big Samoan bodyguards of theirs were sweaty, overheated, and visibly perturbed. Uncomfortable in their black slacks and nylon black polo shirts, they had only sunglasses and their locks of curly hair to protect them. They’d enjoyed the warmth for perhaps the first hundred meters. Loved the scenery, too. But they were more than ready to get out of that heat. Only the breeze coming in off the Huangpu gave them occasional relief. Now all they could think about was cranking up the air conditioning in their solar passenger van and driving back to Pudong to the hotel.
Arriving ahead of them, Zero and Young-Min Jo awaited the bodyguards’ return. But it was too hot to stand there, roasting on that bright concrete sidewalk. Better solution was to find some form of shade nearby. The only options were a solitary tree, about fifty meters away, and an awning stretching out from a concessionaire located thirty meters from them out on The Bund. It would have to do, so they waved at the guards approaching and told them to go start the car.
“Get that air conditioning cranked up nice and frosty before we climb inside, eh boys?” laughed Young-Min Jo. The guards complied immediately.
“I hope you’ll reconsider baobèi, I really do,” said Zero to Young-Min, returning to their earlier topic. He was fumbling through his pockets to see if he had a few Euros to buy them a cold drink. Nothing. Pockets were empty.
“About what? Leaving?” he replied, distracted by his attempts to fish out some money for the street vendor. The little woman running the soda stand smiled out at the lovely couple pleasantly, ready to serve them, but losing patience when she saw Young-Min blushing with embarrassment, struggling to find change.
He never got to hear Zero’s reply.
The next thing he heard was an earth-shattering BOOM! As well as the shattering of glass, bending of metal, and the crashing of debris landing on the ground all around them. The passenger van they’d rode in had been obliterated. A car bomb had exploded underneath, killing their bodyguards instantly, lifting the vehicle several meters off the ground, and injuring several pedestrians nearby.
Zero instinctively flew into action, tackling Young-Min to the ground, covering his body from falling engine parts and flying glass. The lady at the concession stand was hit by a flying object, which knocked her into the back wall of the trailer, killing her. And in the aftermath, Young-Min experienced nearly an eternity of seconds trying to put together just what had happened. He was relatively sure he was alive, and that was about it. The rest came to him slowly thereafter.
Someone had just attempted to assassinate him.
Chapter 15
Step on It
Another week had passed. Less than seven weeks remained until time to report back for duty at Space Programme. Ozzie and the Dallas Wranglers had traveled up to Detroit to play the Detroit Double Jacks, affectionately called “The Hammers” by their fans. This put him within four hours’ drive from metropolitan Toronto.
Detroit wasn’t particularly good. Perfect opponent for a road opener to start off the 2111 season. Dallas routed them easily. Ozzie got to play as time was ticking off with the Wranglers nursing a comfortable lead. He threw a few passes. Quick drop-backs this time. Much quicker releases. No one laid more than a finger on him. He’d managed to get out of that stadium with nothing but a bruised thumb and a sore foot from getting stepped on during a tackle. Not a bad out
ing! Certainly not the same barroom brawl like he’d witnessed in Mexico City the weekend before.
That same weekend, his lover Shamiso had journeyed up to Toronto with the Rudo Love Tour for a fabulous sold-out concert at the famed Bay Street Arena downtown. She’d performed quite well. Her sister Rudo had sung like a bird. Seemed Rudo was getting more and more powerful as the tour progressed! The show had been a big success. Just as good as the one in New York. After that, they planned on resting everyone for a full day before traveling onto the next gig. Shamiso was desperate for a break.
But by this time, Young-Min Jo and Zero had returned to corporate headquarters in Toronto, downhearted and frazzled from their trying experience in Shanghai. Young-Min for his part needed several days to recover from the ordeal. Zero by way of comparison got over it rather quickly, to her young lover’s dismay. It seemed like she was more capable of putting the whole ugly affair behind her. Young-Min didn’t understand how she could do something like that—especially after all they’d been through.
Of course, she’d been nothing short of amazing the day of the car bombing. She’d been caring, quick thinking, instinctually protective of him, and had spirited him away from the scene as rapidly as possible. They never even went back to their hotel—nor did they fetch their belongings. Instead, they hailed a nearby taxi, which drove them all the way to Pudong Air Terminal, where they’d caught a flight to Yokohama. They sent for their things later. Shortly thereafter, they found a flight to Toronto and flew—in coach—the entire twelve hours. They found any seat they could and purchased tickets without hesitation. What’s more, they didn’t even get to sit together on the airship! Not that Young-Min cared, he was in no mood to talk about much of anything the entire trip home.
