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

by Wesley Robert Lowe

  “Amen, sister,” shouts one of the young singers.

  “Look what happens when we start off with a fantastic core production team like Jonny and Tim.”

  Hoots of approval and applause.

  “I’m not saying that Abby and Olivia couldn’t do it on their own or without our help, but we have just jump-started the process. By combining brand new first class talent with the seasoned guidance of Grammy-winning producers and throwing in a hundred and fifty kids who just sang and played their asses off ... who could ask for anything more?”

  Whistling, applause and shouts of approval.

  “So let’s make the dream come true together.”

  Thunderous shouts of approval, applause and clapping. “But let’s get real for a moment. Not every star is going to shine no matter how much polish you give it. That’s why studios can’t afford to take a chance. That’s why all their stuff sounds the same. They think the formula for success is sell you the SOS ...”

  “Same old shit,” shouts a kid.

  “The same old SOS in a new package, and people will lap it up. I say ‘no’ to that. We gotta innovate and the only way to do that is brand new product with brand new people and done in a brand new way. The great thing about what we are doing is that it educates, it gives people a chance and it gives the New Amsterdam the opportunity to hit a home run. It is cost effective and we can take a lot of chances on new talent. But in order to make this happen, we need to have partners, we need to have donors that are willing to commit ...” Queenie shouts, “And we have one of those groups here right now. Let’s give it up for Byron Field and the Manhattan Investors Syndicate!”

  Queenie walks off the stage to shouts of, “Quee-nie, Quee-nie,” as Byron walks up to the microphone.

  ***

  “Well thank you, Queenie, for that kind introduction. And thank you kids for letting an old fart see what youth can accomplish if they are only given the chance. Now as one of those Wall Street Money guys, I’ll tell you we are inundated with people asking for a handout. Most of the time we say “no” but every now and then, there is a project that is so absolutely compelling, we have no choice but to say “yes” even if there are a few little deficiencies. What you have with the New Amsterdam Training Center is one of those projects. What a marvelous, marvelous day. What a marvelous, marvelous sound. What a marvelous, marvelous beginning. We believe that today marks not only a new era of music but of how we deal with problems with the inner city youth. No longer will they be sent to the back of the bus. No longer will they have to entertain or support themselves on the streets with drugs. Because the Center wants to show that youth are valued and we at Manhattan Investment Group are committing $25,000,000 to support the cause.”

  Shouts of joy, tears of happiness, jumps of delight, and spontaneous dancing erupt.

  “And we have been promised by Noah Reid, President of The Chad Huang Foundation, that he will match our donation dollar for dollar, making a total of $50,000,000, enough to ensure the viability of the New Amsterdam Arts Center for years to come. Come on up, Noah. This is your time.”

  Noah shakes his head, “No, no,” but then the crowd starts chanting, “No-ah, No-ah, No-ah.” They refuse to stop until Noah starts making his way to the microphone, at which chanting turns to shouts of triumph and thunderous applause.

  ***

  Normally a firing weapon of some kind would be Raoul’s weapon of choice—Magnum, Kalashnokov, 9 mm automatic—but this is different. Wangdan not only injured him, he embarrassed the big Russian. The only way he can be redeemed is to demonstrate to his henchmen that the physical beating he suffered from the Chinaman was an aberration. For this reason, Raoul will not use guns but machetes. Of course they are also there to pick up the girls, but that part is easy. What Raoul’s men want to see is if their boss is really worthy of their respect. If he’s not, any one of them will challenge him to be the hot dog—or take him out.

  Raoul charges at Wangdan, swinging the larger cleaver-like knives like windmills, one in each hand.

  Wangdan backtracks and leaps as Raoul chases him around the room.

  Wangdan throws a pillow at the Russian but a quick slice from the blade sends feathers flying through the air.

  Raoul is relentless. Wangdan quickly pulls back his hand, narrowly escaping having it severed from his arm. He drops to the floor.

  Raoul lunges at the prone Wangdan. Wangdan uses two hands to grab and hold up a lamp. The machete just slices through the heavy wood. However, it slows the momentum of the blade enough so that Wangdan can roll out of the way.

  Wangdan leaps up, deftly runs behind Raoul, and delivers a devastating hammer chop to his neck. Devastating to the average human being, that is, but Raoul’s neck is as sturdy as a brick shithouse and he feels not the slightest pain.

  For a big man, Raoul is surprisingly agile. Raoul wheels around and drives a twisting blade at Wangdan. Wangdan leaps backwards but not before the tip of the machete pricks the martial artist’s chest. Blood starts seeping out of the wound.

  Seeing Wangdan’s blood fills Raoul with a sense of victory, giving him even more strength for the next onslaught of double machete swings through the air.

  It takes every bit of Wangdan’s acrobatic ability to escape lunges from the front, swings from the side, and uppercut blade motions to the groin.

  Raoul’s confidence grows with every motion. Wangdan cannot keep avoiding him forever.

  And this is exactly what Wangdan wants Raoul to think. Overconfidence will spawn opportunity.

  One exceptionally powerful sideways motion gives Wangdan the opportunity he’s looking for. After he dodges the swipe, it takes a fraction of a second longer for Raoul to bring back the machete to attack position because of the extra distance that the knife travelled.

  Wangdan kicks Raoul in the elbow, sending one of the machetes flying out of his hand. There’s still the blade held by the other hand to contend with, though. Raoul redoubles his savage swinging but at least Wangdan has one less blade to contend with.

  It’s all Wangdan can do to escape the angry thrusts and jabs of the blade.

  What to do? Raoul is not to be denied this time unless ...

  Remember who you are. Who are you, Wangdan? You are Shaolin. You are ... you are Tiger and Crane!

  Wangdan does a backwards somersault to evade the latest barrage from Raoul. He picks up one of the dead cranes.

  Raoul snickers as he raises his machete. Wangdan grabs the top of the head of the dead bird with one hand and the lower part of its long neck with the other. When the machete comes down, Wangdan quickly moves the bird so that the machete slices through the bird’s neck, separating the head.

  The incensed Raoul swings hard again but this time Wangdan uses the long legs of the bird as protection. The machete slices through one of bird’s legs.

  Now Wangdan is ready. Hung Gar. Tiger and Crane.

  Tiger – one hand holds the bird’s leg so the talons are like a tiger’s paw readying for attack.

  Crane – the other hand holds the crane’s neck so that its beak is ready to penetrate.

  Wangdan attacks. As Raoul swings the machete at Wangdan, the tiger’s claw descends onto his forearm. Wangdan pulls the leg so that deep feline-like scratches run down the big man’s arm.

  When another machete swing comes at him, Wangdan sidesteps the assault and counters with a peck directly into Raoul’s gut.

  The big man falls down bleeding.

  Wangdan then glares at the Russian henchmen. “Get him out!” he snaps. The Russian mobsters quickly grab Raoul and pull him out, disappearing down the hallway.

  Wangdan dashes to his cell phone, verifies his message is still there, and hits the ‘send’ button.

  Then he types another and another and another, firing them off in rapid succession. He can’t ignore them all.

  ***

  Byron stands at the microphone. “By this time next year, we will have at least fifty recordings just as fantastic
as we all witnessed a few minutes ago.” The until now staid Byron shouts, “Give it up for Noah Reid and the Chad Huang Foundation and the future of New York youth!”

  Part of Queenie’s scheming was to put Noah in a position where he could not say “No.” With a hundred and fifty kids in the studio that are exactly the kind that Noah targets with the foundation and in front of an old girlfriend he’s hoping to win back, Byron’s carefully worded introduction was designed to do just that.

  Noah has felt the vibrating of his cellphone but ignored it. After all, it was just Wangdan. Now Noah sees that he has sent a text marked URGENT. Noah wants to ignore it but then there’s another text that Wangdan has sent marked URGENT. Noah grits his teeth and reads it.

  RUN, HIDE and CALL ME. JUST DO IT.

  Noah ignores it and nervously steps to the microphone. His mouth says words but inside, his mind is going nuts. What the hell is Wangdan thinking? “I’m so glad that I was invited to this event today. It gives me a real feel for what music can do. Maybe some of you don’t know this, but I’m actually just a jock.”

  Suddenly, Noah starts gagging and coughing as if he’s about to vomit. “Sorry, I ... I ...”

  Without warning, Noah runs off coughing and making noises as if he’s trying to throw up but can’t.

  He runs out of the recording room.

  There’s confusion and concern in the recording room. Queenie looks at Jonny and motions for the studio manager to follow Noah.

  ***

  Noah runs down the hall and rushes into the washroom and into a stall. He keeps watch at the door.

  Noah calls Wangdan. “What’s up? I’m just about to make a speech to donate funds to the New Amsterdam Academy.”

  “Don’t do it. Queenie is not who you think she is. She is King’s sister.”

  “King, as in crash-my-helicopter-into-Heaven and attack-with-every-snake-in-the-universe King?”

  “Yes.”

  Noah whistles.

  “Run, Noah. She’s after revenge and you are at the top of her list.”

  “I can’t. Olivia, Abby and a hundred and fifty kids are in there with Queenie right now. And I don’t think revenge is the name of the game. Money is. Talk later. I gotta go back.”

  “I’ll be there. What’s the plan going to be?”

  “Whatever it takes. We’re gonna have to make it up as we go.”

  “Be careful, my friend.”

  Noah shuts the phone and sees the bathroom door opening. He quickly jams two fingers down his throat to induce vomiting. He leans over the toilet, makes a retching sound, and then pukes out remnants of his lunch.

  “Need help?”

  Noah turns around and sees a concerned Jonny standing there.

  “Could do with a new stomach right about now. Got any Po Chai pills?” Po Chai pills are tiny Chinese medicinal pills used by Chinese for all kinds of stomach ailments.

  “What Chinese doesn’t?”

  “Let’s get them and go back. I’ve got a speech to make.”

  ***

  Wangdan looks at the scared young girls. “Don’t worry.”

  Wangdan goes into the hallway and sees the Russian cleaning lady coming out of the Presidential Suite at the end of the hall. “Is anybody booked in there tonight?”

  The cleaning lady laughs. “There is hardly anybody staying here any night.”

  Wangdan pulls out two hundred dollars from his pocket and offers it to her. “If you let my friends stay in there overnight. Okay?”

  The cleaning lady sneers. “You want me to risk my job for that?”

  Wangdan takes out another three hundred and hands it to her.

  She snatches it. “Okay. As long as they leave by noon tomorrow. That’s when I start cleaning the room again.”

  Wangdan nods. “Noon.”

  The cleaning lady is shocked when twelve scrawny young Russian girls enter the room. When one of the girls tells their story, the cleaning lady bursts into tears and gives the money back to Wangdan. She makes a phone call. After the call ends, she tells the girls that in fifteen minutes, they will have homemade Russian sausages, borsht and perogies made by the Russian head chef.

  Twelve young Russian girls are in a seven thousand dollar a night Presidential Suite in one of New York’s finest hotels. For a short time at least, fear is gone from their lives and a nightmare has turned to a fantasy come true.

  ***

  Jonny and Noah re-enter the recording room as applause erupts.

  Byron is still at the microphone. “Are you all right, Noah? You had us worried.”

  “Sorry about that. Remind me never to eat expired sushi again,” jokes Noah, desperately thinking as he walks toward the Manhattan Investor Group Chairman.

  Noah gets back behind the microphone. “The Chad Huang Foundation was named after my best friend Chad. He was a great guy and we played basketball for hours together. We also had an old British sports car that when it worked was the most fun thing in the world to drive. He could also make one mean cappuccino. What drove Chad though more than anything were kids. He loved kids just like all of you here.”

  Noah points his finger at the one-hundred-and-fifty voice youth choir. “Chad didn’t have much of a home life and he wound up living with our family. He promised himself he would do his best so that other kids didn’t have to go through what he did. He wanted every kid to have a chance, every kid to have a safe place, not just to play ball but to hang out. That’s what we’re doing with the Chad Huang Foundation.”

  Applause echoes throughout the room.

  “I share the vision that Queenie has of the New Amsterdam Arts Center. It’s imaginative, creative, and exactly what New York needs. No, it’s what every city needs. A place where young people are given the best so they know what it takes to excel. I am pleased to announce that the Chad Huang Foundation is going to match the funding of the Manhattan Investors Group to make a grand total of $50,000,000.

  Applause and whistles of excitement fill the room.

  Noah smiles. “And now, I’m going to make a request. All of you kids—and all the adults—get out of here as quickly as possible. I know you want to party, but when you deal with money, there’s unfortunately a ton of paperwork to do. I’m sure there are some people in this room that would like to have a $25,000,000 check in their pocket.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Queenie and Jonny stand at the door, shaking the hands of the kids as they file out. “Thanks so much. You were great,” is a constantly repeated refrain to the smiling faces.

  Tim gives Queenie a hug. “You do it, sister.” And then he whispers in her ear, “I’ll hang in the restroom in case you need me.”

  “You’re the greatest, Tim. We’ll make some great music,” Queenie says with a smile. She nods at Tim, acknowledging his comment.

  Noah steps up to Olivia and Abby and says quietly, “You and Abby should go too.”

  “Are you kidding?” asks Olivia. “This is a big moment for us too. We are not going.”

  “Please, Olivia. Go.”

  “I am staying.”

  Queenie sees the frown on Olivia’s face and steps away from the door and walks to Noah and Olivia.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “Noah doesn’t want me in the meeting.”

  “It’s not that I don’t want her in the meeting. I just don’t... well frankly, I don’t like mixing personal matters with professional.” Noah knows that this might kill any chance of him getting back together with Olivia but he doesn’t have any other bright ideas.

  “Noah, are you insinuating that the reason that you’re contributing to the New Amsterdam is because you’re trying to get back with me?”

  Damn. Damn. This is so not good. “Not at all ... well maybe ... no.”

  Olivia glares. “Good. Because as President of the New Amsterdam, I insist that I be at any major financial discussions. And just to make sure that things are entirely above board, Abby will be right beside me.”

&nbs
p; “Right.”

  ***

  Jonny, Queenie, Byron, Olivia and Abby hide their anxiety and awkwardness behind a mask of camaraderie as they sit around the Skyscape boardroom table.

  All wait for Noah to speak as he finishes clearing his throat. “So I guess the next item on the agenda is the timing of the donation. Olivia was mistaken earlier today when she said that funds could be available in three business days. According to the Foundation’s constitution, any amounts over $500,000 require a special board meeting.

  “That wasn’t in the constitution when we were on the board,” says Olivia as she glances at the nodding Abby.

  “We were purposely trying to make sure that red tape was not going to be an issue,” says Abby. “We agreed that we wanted to make it as easy as possible for new groups to apply for funding, without killing them with paperwork.”

  “That’s for someone asking for few thousand bucks. For $25,000,000, we need things to be more formal.”

  “That’s bull, Noah.”

  “Abby, you and Olivia didn’t leave me a lot of choice.” He glares at Olivia. “Not to mention you didn’t even give me one day’s notice before you left.”

  “I had completed everything I needed to do.” What Olivia refers to is that all of the illegal cash funds from Chin had been safely legitimized.

  “We can argue about that later. It doesn’t change what I needed to do. Once the two of you left, I realized I had to do a better job managing and protecting the foundation’s assets. There needs to be a more formal process. Not to worry though. I contacted the other executives and I’ll catch a plane back to Hong Kong right after this meeting. Once we dot all the i’s and cross all the t’s, I will personally fly back to New York and we can celebrate all over again.”