The Noah Reid Series: Books 1-3: The Noah Reid Action Thriller Series Boxset

by Wesley Robert Lowe

  “Are you...?”

  Wangdan bows deeply. From a standing position, his forehead touches below his knees. “I am who I am.”

  The thunderbolt hits Noah. “You are the sentry.”

  “I am he.” The monk bows again to Noah. “I am Wangdan.”

  Noah bows in return. “I am Noah Reid. Come, my Sifu needs to see you.”

  ***

  Lisa and Sam are back with Master Wu at the Shaolin Paradise entrance. They watch with intense curiosity and hope as Noah approaches with Wangdan.

  “Told you I’d find him,” says Noah.

  “Technically speaking, I found you,” corrects Wangdan.

  “Right.” He’s gonna be a damn pain in the ass. Noah brings Wangdan up before the aging grandmaster. “This is Master Wu.”

  The young Shaolin monk bows deeply before the wheelchair-bound Master Wu. “Sifu, it is an honor to meet you. Noah has told me about you. I am Wangdan.”

  Master Wu tries to stand but cannot. “No, I am without honor. I left Heaven wanting to conquer the world. Instead, it conquered me. I need to make amends to Sigong Zhang, if he is still alive. If he is not, I need to make amends with the gods.”

  “Sigong Zhang is alive. And he will be most happy to see you.”

  “Hey what about me? And her?” says Sam, pointing to Lisa.

  “Sorry about that. The woman is Dr. Lisa Mah and this young man is Sam.”

  “Honored to meet you,” says Wangdan, making the Shaolin salute.

  “How we gonna get to this place?” asks Sam. “Limo, plane, taxi? Helicopter? Anything but a boat.”

  “We will travel by private car to the base of the mountain. Then it is two days journey by foot—for a healthy person.”

  Sam groans. “Are there snakes? If there are, I’m not going.”

  “Unfortunately, there are snakes,” says Wangdan. “And panthers. And bears.”

  Groans change to grins. “Very cool.”

  Wangdan becomes very serious. “Where we are going is holy. It is sacred and it is secret. That’s the way it has always been. We will take nothing along with us except our clothes, food and shoes. No cell phones, no computers, no tablets, nothing that can link us with the outside world.”

  “Noah already gave us that drill,” complains Sam. “Hey, how do you know about those things? Master Wu is an anti-technoid so I thought all you Heaven Shaolin guys were.”

  Wangdan says simply. “Being a monk does not mean I am ignorant.”

  “How do you expect Master Wu to travel?” asks the practical Lisa. “And I would like to get some medicine for treatment.”

  Wangdan does a quick check of Master Wu’s pulse and tongue. “I know the basics but Heaven’s real doctors will check him out fully after we arrive. I want to have Master Wu’s system cleansed so we will use no medicines. If there is a problem along the way, I know which plants can be used for medicine. They are fresh, pure and natural. As for how to transport him...” Wangdan turns to Noah. “We are both strong.”

  Chapter Thirty

  From the Japanese Coast Guard ship to the mainland takes only an hour or so of travel. To make sure he didn’t miss the vessel that Noah might have been on, King’s chopper went back to the Japanese patrol boat by the Senkaku again and then back to the China coast. When nothing is seen except a few itinerant fishing boats, King feels confident that Reid and Company are not on the East China Sea.

  Now on land, King realizes that his prey could be anywhere between where he is now and Shanghai, a few hundred miles away. While helicopter would be the fastest way of travel, the height and speed of the craft would make the possibility of missing some clue as to the whereabouts of his targets a high probability.

  His solution is to buy a dune buggy and drive up the beach to Shanghai. A crazy idea? Maybe, but he doesn’t have a brighter one. If he were driving straight, it might take him six hours on the sand. However, because he will need to drive slowly and question any people he encounters, he anticipates that it might take up to three days.

  ***

  From Shaolin Paradise to the base of the Huangshan or Yellow Mountain range is a twelve-hour ride for Noah, Wangdan, Lisa, Master Wu and Sam. As they approach, excitement swells. They see jagged granite peaks shrouded in mist, as if floating on the clouds. From a distance, they can see the occasional Huangshan Pine growing out of the rocks.

  While on one hand Noah decried the commercialization of Shaolin Paradise, on the other hand he was most grateful that that it owned a min-van in good repair with working air-conditioning. Noah was also appreciative that Wangdan did not ask any questions about why he wanted to keep their existence completely anonymous. He was also grateful that Wangdan paid for everything, trusting that Noah’s word would be his bond and that Noah would eventually pay for all the expenses. Or maybe the sentry didn’t care about the costs—that would have been congruent with Master Wu’s approach.

  Lisa still worried about the lack of medicines, but Wangdan assured her that nothing was required. Master Wu would stay alive until they reached Heaven. How this monk could be so certain was beyond any of them but this doesn’t matter—they have no say.

  The Yellow Mountain Range contains some of China’s most spectacular sites with its lofty peaks and craggy rock formations. With a transcendent serenity and peacefulness, it is home to public and private temples, including―somewhere far from the beaten track of innumerable tourists―Master Wu’s Heaven.

  The minivan turns onto an almost undetectable dirt road. It travels slowly for another hour before coming to a stop in a tiny clearing. Only someone with a trained eye would have seen the tiny trailhead that came out on the small open space.

  “We are here,” announces Wangdan.

  “This is Heaven?” asks Sam.

  “No, this begins the journey to Heaven,” replies Wangdan, as he and Noah carefully lift Master Wu out of the minivan and onto a stretcher.

  “You look like a warrior,” acknowledges Wangdan respectfully.

  “No, I look like what I am, just an old man,” says Master Wu.

  “An old man who can kick the crap out of me,” proclaims Noah.

  “Noah, my sister could beat you with one arm behind her back,” scoffs Sam, as he and Lisa unload the knapsacks of supplies. “And she’s only three.”

  The trek up the arduous steep slope begins.

  ***

  The trek to Heaven is a treat for the soul and the senses. For the next three days, spectacular sights reward the mountain sojourners for their strenuous efforts. The odyssey through the mountains is awe-inspiring, wondrous and dangerous.

  Massive natural stone pillars rise out of the rocks, craggy snow-capped mountains tower high over the ephemeral clouds, shimmering pools of ice-cold water delight and gurgling waterfalls provide the purest of drinking water.

  The herbalist in Lisa is totally captivated by the rich variety of flora native to Huangshan.

  “I see why you didn’t think bringing medicine was necessary,” says Lisa to Wangdan with a touch of awe.

  “If you ask me, once you’ve seen one fern, you’ve seen them all.”

  “Thanks Sam,” scowls Noah.

  “Do you know how to get to where we’re going?” asks Sam. “It’s not like there’s any signs or anything.”

  “Wangdan will get us there. He doesn’t need a map,” says Master Wu confidently.

  ***

  Bathing in one of the pristine hot springs is a small luxury. It soothes the weary, aching bones of the travelers. And as spectacular as the natural scenery is, a glimpse of the nude Lisa having a private moment in the thermal water... well, men are men, even if they are monks.

  ***

  Carrying Master Wu across a rope bridge is scary. There is a near disaster when several of the bridge’s dilapidated deck boards snap under the weight of Noah, Wangdan and Master Wu. Wangdan quickly leaps down, grabs the bridge with one hand and Master Wu’s uniform with the other. Noah, maintaining his hold on the stre
tcher, leaps to a sturdier part of the deck. Placing the stretcher down carefully, Noah is able to pull Master Wu and Wangdan to safety.

  As the day gets older and the altitude gets higher, it’s harder to see, especially on the thin rock ledge that has become their trail. A misstep could mean a fall of five hundred feet over jagged rocks and into a river alive with swirling eddies.

  Sam slips and is about to plunge down the embankment. Wangdan reacts like lightning. He throws his end of Master Wu’s stretcher into the air, leaps down and seizes Sam’s arm. Grabbing onto the branch of a pine tree that protrudes from the rock face, Wangdan uses it as a fulcrum to swing back up. He deposits Sam on the ledge and snatches the other end of Master Wu’s stretcher before it falls.

  All this in less than three seconds.

  “Let’s keep going. Another half a mile and we get a break.” Even more careful now than before, it seems an eternity before half a mile is covered.

  Night descends on the weary group. It is cold and all huddle together to try and keep warm. While Master Wu and Wangdan are used to a vegetarian diet, Lisa, Noah and Sam are unrepentant carnivores and miss the flavor and the energy that meat can bring.

  “I guess there’s no McDonald’s anywhere close, is there?” wonders Sam wishfully.

  “We can dream,” says Noah.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  On the third day, just as Wangdan promised, Heaven is revealed―or rather, stumbled upon in a clearing somewhere in the Huangshan Mountain Range. A mile above sea level, seventy miles of difficult hiking from the dirt road where the minivan dropped the travelers off, this six-hundred-year-old small complex of five buildings and monastic Shaolin community is completely uncontaminated by any trappings of the modern era. No electricity, cell phone towers... not even running water or toilets.

  It is hardly a tourist destination and despite its importance will never make it to the UNESCO list of World Heritage sites. First and only, it is a temple and training ground for the most dedicated and ascetic practitioners of Shaolin Martial Arts, physical, mental and spiritual.

  Those who come here come by word of mouth only. There are no Internet sites or travel packages to make its presence known. In fact, most Shaolin schools and temples around the world are not even aware of its existence.

  But somehow, Heaven does exist. It’s a small monastery, perhaps sixty people. Some of them are here to learn a deeper level of mindful meditation, some of them came for the exacting martial arts training, but whatever the reason, they came... and they still come. People have been coming for six centuries and there is no reason to believe they won’t come for another six more.

  There are thirty martial artist monks in the courtyard. Some are meditating, some are doing the slow movements of Taiqiquan and some are engaging in the aggressive moves of the fighting arts. None pay attention to the new visitors.

  Noah and Wangdan put the stretcher down. Noah, Wangdan, Sam and Lisa see the tears in Master Wu’s eyes as he scrutinizes the monks. All are males, encompassing a broad spectrum of backgrounds and ages. Some are as young as ten, a little younger than Master Wu was when he first entered. The majority are from age twenty to sixty but what draws Master Wu’s attention most of all are three monks aged ninety and over. Two of them sit by the side. They are lethargic and disconnected from their surroundings, perhaps suffering from some form of dementia, Alzheimer’s or Parkinson’s disease.

  However, there is one nonagenarian with a vibrant vitality that barks out, “Left. Right. Left. Left. Right.” A ninety-three-year old Sigong who has been doing this for almost seventy years. It is Master Wu’s sifu, the one he learned from―and the one he betrayed.

  Noah watches the acolytes go through the exercises.

  Wangdan asks, “Do you approve?”

  Noah nods in agreement. He has never seen anything like this on a larger scale. He had always thought that Master Wu had been exceptionally hard, insisting on repetition and a nitpickiness bordering on insanity. Master Wu’s Sigong makes what Noah went through look like a walk in the park. But as Noah watches, there is a welling of his spirit, there is an understanding. While he always heard and even believed that Shaolin was more than exercise, to see it practiced in such a way―with such belief, dedication and intensity―makes him finally understand the spirituality that Master Wu feels.

  When Master Wu struggles to stand, Noah tries to help. Master Wu waves him away―no. He wants to rise by himself.

  “Wait until the doctors treat you, Sifu,” says Noah.

  “No, Noah. Being in Heaven is medicine enough. The air, the atmosphere... the... the...”

  “The ambience of spirits, gods and religiosity, the fellowship of your peers,” continues Wangdan for Master Wu. “It’s the gestalt, the holistic combination of all forces that Master Wu is feeling. There is healing power there.”

  All murmur their wonder and approval.

  All except Lisa. What utter nonsense. The poison has worn off. That is all that is happening. There is no ‘magic of the Shaolin.’

  Ever so slowly, Noah and Sam help Master Wu get up. Master, disciple and disciple’s disciple tread slowly to the Master’s master. The Sigong shows no sign of acknowledging Wu’s or Noah’s presence, but he doesn’t need to. Sigong Zhang knows they are there.

  ***

  The aged master continues shouting and the disciples keep following for another half an hour. Finally, Sigong Zhang nods his head. “Now go to meditation.” The aspiring monks scurry away.

  Only then does the venerable teacher turn to Master Wu, who now stands beside him. Master Wu peers into Sigong Zhang’s eyes, trying hard to discern what he is thinking. Sigong betrays no hints of his thoughts as his gaze thoroughly examines Wu.

  With tremendous effort, Master Wu bows. He bends forward, lowering his torso so that his head touches the ground in reverence and respect.

  “Forgive me, Sigong,” entreats Master Wu.

  Sigong Zhang brings back his hand and slaps Master Wu on the face as hard as he can. “You are a disgrace to Heaven.”

  “I know, I know. That is why I came back. To ask for forgiveness, absolution of my sins. I should never have left Heaven. I should never have taught our Way outside of here.”

  Sigong Zhang studies Master Wu—he sees sincerity, contrition and genuine repentance. He inhales deeply. “How did you come to this conclusion?”

  “I was foolish. I started to believe in the world, that I should share the knowledge and secrets of Heaven with everyone.”

  Master Wu bows deeply again. “I was not careful. I trusted when I should have been cautious. One of my students did not have the right motive. He infected not only me but my other monks and students as well. He caused great pain to the world and even greater shame to the Way...” Master Wu points to Noah. “If it were not for this young man and his parents, I would have perished. They rescued me in my darkest moment.”

  Noah bows.

  Master Wu turns back to Sigong Zhang. “I should have followed your example. Let the students come to Heaven, not reached out to bring them in. The secrets of Heaven should not be easy to attain. There must be a difficult journey to get here... and an even greater burden to stay. Forgive me, Sigong.”

  Sigong Zhang ponders for a moment and then nods his head. “It takes a wise and honest man to admit his mistakes… You are forgiven.”

  He and Master Wu exchange the Shaolin salute. More than a formality, this simple gesture of bowing to each other with an open left hand covering a clenched right fist conveys the respect of the ages, not only to each other, but their common heritage.

  “Thank you, Sigong. I will never do this again... but even if I wanted to, there is little time left on Earth for me to accomplish that.

  Sigong Zhang grabs Master Wu’s wrist and checks his pulse with two fingers.

  The Sigong snorts. “You are not going to die, at least not anytime soon. You are healthy. I can see it in your eyes and feel it in your pulse.”

  Noah in
terrupts. “No, Sigong. Master Wu is not well. This is the first time in days that he has walked. On our journey here, we were attacked. All our medicine was swallowed by the ocean. Master Wu has had no medicine or medical treatment save for Tui Na for days.”

  Master Wu is aghast. No one is ever allowed to contradict Sigong under penalty of expulsion from the monastery. Master Wu prostrates himself in front of Sigong Zhang.

  Noah, Lisa and Sam watch this with mouths open. Master Wu did not exhibit the slightest bit of pain or constriction of movement.

  “Forgive me, Master. I have sinned again. I have not taught him well. He is insubordinate.”

  Sigong Zhang eyes Noah warily, then turns to Wu. “Is it true?”

  “Yes, it is true, but he should never have contradicted you.”

  “We will take you to our doctors in good time. Right now, you look well.”

  “I feel... restored,” admits Master Wu with relief.

  “Of course.” Sigong looks at Noah, assessing him. “You are not of the Way, are you?”

  “I am of a different Way, the way of the carpenter and fish.”

  Wangdan whispers into Sigong’s ear. “He is referring to Jesus, the son of a carpenter and who was a carpenter himself. He called his disciples ‘fishers of men.’”

  Sigong Zhang’s eyes explore Noah’s. He lifts his hand toward his face as if to sense his aura. He brings it back down.

  “What you did was not an act of disobedience but an act to save a life. That is never wrong. What is your name and why do you come here?”

  Noah makes the Shaolin salute. “My name is Noah Reid. My Sifu needed assistance to come here. He has been training me for twenty years... I would go to the ends of the earth for him.”