Fury

by Fisher Amelie

  I made a move to grab her, but she let her arms fall before I could do so.

  Her eyes narrowed. “When you say it was never your intention. What do you mean?”

  “Nothing,” I said, remembering myself.

  “Why so many secrets, Ethan?”

  “Listen, these-these troubles I’m in, these issues I’m dealing with. They’re my own to handle. I need to handle them on my own.”

  “If you remember, I’ve said those very words,” she said. “I thought the same thing, the very same thing.”

  “It’s different.”

  “Not possible.”

  “Yes, it’s different.”

  “I assure you, there is nothing, no grievance, no sin, no offense in this entire world that can be solved better alone than not.”

  Do not tell her!

  “I can’t.”

  “You can. When I said no, when I pushed you away trying to shoulder the weight of my difficulties on my own, when I thought I was strong enough, you came in and saved me, Ethan, when I hadn’t even known I was falling. Sometimes you can carry something so heavy you aren’t even aware of the millstone. It crushes you, leaving you unaware of it until it’s almost too late. Open your eyes, Ethan.”

  My chest panted. “Even if I wanted to tell you, even if I wanted to share this with you, with Father, with Sister, with-with God,” I swallowed, “I could never be forgiven. Not by you, not by anyone else, and certainly not by God. I’m the ruined one, Fin. I ruined myself. And there is no going back,” I told her. “I am going to finish what I started because I have created a monster that needs to be destroyed. My carelessness has created that monster, and I am the only one who can defeat it!”

  “Ethan,” she began, her voice trembling, “when you say monster—” Her face went blank. “Ethan, Tran was at Slánaigh earlier today. He was looking for you. Said he wanted to speak with you. Does-does this have something to do with-with that?” she asked with slight hesitation.

  I walked around her, left her standing there. I had work to do and it would no longer keep. I felt for my knives fitted in the back of my jeans and felt a sense of relief.

  “What monster?” she screamed, desperate. “What are you talking about, Ethan?!” She grasped at my clothing in an attempt to get me to stop, but I trudged on back toward the bike. “Ethan!” she cried, her voice rising an extraordinary octave. “Ethan! Stop!” she said, yanking my arm. “Ethan, stop!”

  When we reached the bike, I threw my hand in my pocket and pulled out the key. “Here,” I said, handing it to her.

  “No—” she began, but I wouldn’t let her continue.

  “Go back to Slánaigh, Finley. I won’t be back for several days.”

  I stuck the key in her hand without asking.

  “Ethan,” she said, her voice frantic. “Where are you going?”

  “I promised myself I’d protect you, and this is me protecting you.”

  “Jesus! Ethan! What are you talking about?! Fill me in! Is this about Tran? Did-did you do something. Does this have something to do with the girls after all? Did you take those girls, Ethan?” I sighed but refused to answer. “Oh my God, you did. You did take them. Oh my God. Okay. Okay. This is okay. See, we can just escape back to Montana. Father will fix everything here,” she rambled hysterically, her eyes shifting side to side as she wrung her hands.

  “No, my love,” I told her. “He cannot fix this.”

  “He can fix anything,” she said, her eyes wide with fear.

  “Not this, Fin. Trust me.”

  “What do you mean? What do you mean?”

  I ran both my hands down the sides of her hair, my thumbs across her cheekbones. “My God, do I love you, Fin.” I let go of her, so she grabbed my forearms, her nails biting into my skin.

  “Wait,” she cried. “Wait! Jesus, please, just wait!”

  “Get on the bike, Fin,” I ordered.

  “No. You owe me an explanation, Ethan. I deserve more than orders.”

  “If I told you, I could endanger you. Just please get on the bike and head back to Slánaigh.”

  “Endanger me? I understand you taking the girls has created an issue, but Khanh has dealt with much worse than just a few girls being taken, Ethan. You’re blowing this out of proportion!”

  “Get on the damn bike, Fin!” I shouted, shocking her silent.

  Her face settled into something that resembled calculation, her body relaxed. She climbed onto the bike and started it up, kicking the kickstand up. “You’re a fool,” she said, staring at me as the bike idled. “I’m here, giving myself to you, making myself vulnerable to you in order to help you, to love you, and you keep pushing me away. You’re such a bloody fool,” she finished. She backed up and sped away, her last sentence lingering in the air around me before settling on my clothes, staining them red.

  I was a bloody fool.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  Ethan

  I took the bus to Hanoi with no intention of returning to Hạ Long Bay any time soon. I had a few hundred American dollars in my pocket and retribution on my mind. I was going to finish what I’d started because I’d considered my soul, my mind damned and knew I had nothing to lose.

  I was going to decimate Khanh, his cells, every single person who bought from him or even thought about buying from him. When I was done with them, those hands, all those dirty, filthy hands that left the beautiful spoiled and extinguished their lovely would be in a fitful sleep. Not even the crawling, slithering creatures within the dirt they lived beneath would eat their flesh when I was done with them.

  To save girls. To save Slánaigh. To save Finley Dyer. If I had to die trying, I was going to protect her from the damage I’d done. Even if it meant I would lose her forever.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  Ethan

  I arrived in Hanoi around seven in the evening, spotted a shop that sold men’s clothing for tourists, and found a black hoodie that fit me. I paid for my purchase and found a taxi almost immediately.

  “Nineteen Kim Mã,” I told the driver, and he took off.

  I was looking for Dai.

  When he pulled up to the building, I entered without a single thought to the danger I could be in. The first floor was empty and short with a narrow staircase taking up almost the entire length to the second floor. I yanked my folded leather holster out of the side of my boot and put it on over my T-shirt. I removed my knives, sheathed them, then zipped my new hoodie.

  “There, that’s better,” I told no one. “Dai!” I screamed out.

  Two doors shot open and five men spilled out of them, flanking one very small man.

  I smiled at him. “You Dai?”

  He smiled back. “Who are you?” he asked.

  “I was sent here,” I told him, recognizing the stabbing victim I left alive. I looked him dead in the eye. I tsked three times. “I warned you, did I not?”

  His eyes blew wide and his body began to tremble. Before long, a wet spot started at his crotch before a puddle surrounded his feet. The men beside him shuffled away from him, eyeing him, then eyeing me. Realization dawned on them.

  They all threw their automatics up, pointing them directly at me.

  Breathe.

  Dai turned to the man who’d given him up. He screamed something in Vietnamese.

  “Let me guess,” I told Dai, “he didn’t tell you I was coming?” I leaned my shoulder against the wall, wrapped my arms across my chest for better access to my knives. I did this as casually as possible. “How embarrassing. Excuse me just dropping by unannounced then. I apologize.”

  Dai laughed then tilted his head, examining me. “You’re the killer.”

  I lifted my right hand and saluted him. “At your service.”

  Dai laughed again. “I’m going to kill you, you know.”

  “You are?” I asked jovially.

  “Yes, I’m going to cut your head from your body, feed that body to my pigs, and parade your head around on a pole for all to
see, to warn anyone who ever tries to oppose us again.”

  His men started laughing at his gruesome depiction of my death. I was done playing.

  Breathe.

  “I’m so sorry, Dai, but I’m afraid I have my own plans.”

  Breathe.

  “You do, do you? I can’t wait to hear these plans.”

  Breathe.

  “Here, let me show them to you,” I said, and without a second thought I bounded up the stairs, yanking off a spindle I’d noted was loose when I’d entered the hall.

  Breathe.

  They weren’t expecting me to jump up the stairs and although their bullets were quick, their movements were not. The spray was too slow. I swung myself over the railing, kicking the two men in the back in their heads, stunning them.

  Breathe.

  I whirled the spindle around, hitting the man to Dai’s right, knocking him down to his knees.

  Breathe.

  I continued with the rotation and caught the other two men in front, stunning them as well.

  Breathe.

  Dai’s eyes and mouth widened in disbelief. He reached, probably for a handgun tucked into the back of his pants, but I beat him there, smiling when he realized his hand reached too late.

  Breathe.

  I swung just as the two men in the back stood, pointing their weapons my direction. First shot. Second shot. They were down.

  Breathe.

  As the three men in front of Dai started to stand, I shot the first two as they too reached for their weapons, ready to turn them on me. They fell in a heap on the floor.

  Breathe.

  Dai’s hands flew up in surrender.

  Breathe.

  I left my stabbing victim for last.

  “What did I tell you?” I asked him.

  Breathe.

  He fell to his knees, his hands clasped together. “Please!” he begged, “I just sell the girls! I don’t do anything to them!”

  Breathe.

  “Convincing,” I told him, raising my gun to his forehead. “The last face you’ll ever see,” I reminded him. His expression turned panicked. I pulled the trigger, his face stuck in fear.

  Breathe.

  I turned the gun toward Dai.

  Breathe.

  “I’ll give you whatever you want.”

  Breathe.

  “Now you play the good host!” I shook my head sarcastically. I smiled at him. “I’m afraid it’s too late, though.”

  Breathe.

  “I’ll give you anything. Anything.”

  Breathe.

  “Bargaining. Very manly. Okay, let’s do this,” I said, my feet spread apart. I settled the gun against my forearm as I crossed my arms. “How about you give all the little girls you’ve stolen from back their innocence? How does that sound?”

  He began to pant like a coward.

  “You want money?” he countered. “I have lots of money. I’ll give it all to you.”

  Breathe.

  “Nope. No money. Give them back their innocence and we have a deal.”

  Breathe.

  “I-I can’t,” he whimpered.

  Breathe.

  “Why not?” I asked.

  Breathe.

  “You are strange. I don’t understand why you are asking me this.”

  Breathe.

  “I’m asking because I want to hear your answer out loud, Dai.”

  Breathe.

  “I can’t give you that deal.”

  Breathe.

  “And why not?”

  Breathe.

  “Because it is irreversible.”

  Breathe.

  “Bingo! You know what else is irreversible?”

  Breathe.

  He started crying. “What?” he asked, blubbering.

  Breathe.

  “Death, Dai. Death is irreversible.”

  Breathe.

  He began to sob uncontrollably.

  Breathe.

  I furrowed my brows. “Please, Dai, you can send innocent little girls into the dens of devils but you can’t face a little thing like death?”

  Breathe.

  He fell to his knees and buried his head in his hands. “I don’t want to die!”

  Breathe.

  “You want to know something, Dai?” I asked. “Only people like you fear death with the despair that you fear it now.”

  Breathe.

  “Please,” he begged. “Anything you want!”

  “Tell you what,” I said, “you tell me where Khanh is and I’ll make your death quick.”

  He clawed at my feet, begging me to spare him.

  “Did you hear me, Dai? Tell me where I can find Khanh.”

  Breathe.

  “I will tell you if you spare me,” he tried to arrange.

  Breathe.

  “How about this, you tell me where I can find Khanh and maybe I’ll think about sparing you. Best offer.”

  Breathe.

  “He’s here in the Ba Dinh District.”

  Breathe.

  He’s close. My heart leapt into my throat. “Where?”

  Breathe.

  “Are you going to kill me?”

  Breathe

  “Take me to him,” I told him. “How far is he?”

  Breathe.

  “Not far. Not far,” he explained, seemingly relieved.

  He thinks he’s going to get away.

  Breathe.

  “Get up. Lead the way.” When he stood, I placed the gun at his lower back and stood closely. “Run and I’ll kill you on the spot. Do you understand?”

  Breathe.

  “Yes,” he said, his body shaking.

  Breathe.

  Dai walked slowly out of the building toward the West Lake area. We walked for thirty minutes in silence. In that time, his breathing slowed, steadied.

  “You think you’re going to get away,” I told him. His body went stiff. “I can tell in your body language. No one escapes me unless I want them to.”

  He gulped.

  “Give me a time estimate.”

  “Another ten minutes.”

  “Where is it?”

  Feeling comfortable, I assumed, because we were in public, he answered, “It’s a nightclub on the water.”

  “Khanh owns a nightclub?”

  Dai laughed. “He owns many. Lots of foreigners come in and partake of his offered services.”

  Breathe.

  “He sells little girls there?”

  Dai laughed again. “He sells everything there. The girls aren’t on the floor, of course, like the older prostitutes, but he has them there.”

  “Prostitutes?”

  “When the girls grow old, he sticks them in the clubs to service patrons with an older taste.”

  “I see,” I said, pissed beyond belief. My blood curdled in my veins. “The girls in the clubs,” I observed, “they are girls he’s used since they were small?”

  “Yes,” he answered.

  “Why don’t they just run away?” I asked, feeling chatty.

  “They grow—how do I say this—accustomed to their lifestyles. He pays them a percentage of their earnings. It becomes their job.”

  I shook my head at this. “They willingly do this?”

  Dai turned his head toward me. “Many of them don’t know any other kind of life.”

  That’s tragic, I thought.

  Dai took a left on Yên Phụ and I followed suit, pressing the gun into his back to let him know it was still there.

  Within five minutes, he pointed at a building several stories high with a club on the bottom floor in the middle of the busy, foliage-covered street. Tall palm trees lined the street near the club’s sidewalk. It was a newer building, designed to look old with architectural details reminiscent of ancient Vietnam. It appeared to own two large two-story wood arching doors with alternative entrances within each. The building was a yellow plaster and was flanked on either side with two deep red pagodas that reached up into the sky, taller
than the building itself.

  It’d grown exceptionally dark by the time we’d arrived and the club was thriving. Expensive-looking motorcycles lined the street outside the club’s doors and seemingly stretched for miles.

  Having become familiar with Vietnam’s government, I knew regular citizens weren’t its patrons. A regular Vietnamese couldn’t have afforded them. Those motorcycles belonged to high government officials, their children, expats, and tourists.

  “Ah, I see,” I told no one, but Dai answered anyway.

  “Yes.”

  I thought of something when he spoke. “Do you have children, Dai?”

  “Yes, I do,” he said.

  “How old are they?”

  “They are adults now with children of their own.”

  “Do you love your children? Your grandchildren?”

  “Yes,” he answered.

  “Then how could you do this line of work?”

  “I was very poor. I could not afford to eat, to feed my family. One day, one of Khanh’s men approached me, told me he could help me. I knew what he did, so I refused him. The next day he came. Again, I told him no. I told him no for three weeks straight until one day my wife needed medicine so I gave in. I agreed to run errands for Khanh himself.

  “It was easy at first. I never saw any of the girls he sold. I never saw anything but the pretty clubs. Gradually, I was introduced to other jobs, darker jobs. I became used to the sights, the sounds. Soon I did not notice any injustice. I was given a house, a car, a chance to make more money, so I took it.”

  “You have regrets?” I asked.

  “Many.”

  “Do you regret this life? What you’ve done?”

  “Yes.”

  “How do I know if you’re lying?”

  “I cannot prove it to you, but if helps you understand, I will tell you a story. My wife died last year. My children loved her very much. I would see them so often because of her. I only knew them because she alone brought them to our house. I did not know this until she had died. When she died, my children stopped showing up, they stopped knowing me. I would call them repeatedly, try to gift them money, but they refused me.”

  “Why?”