Reign of Coins

by Aiden James

  I know Viktor Kaslow quite well. Based on his exceedingly cruel nature, and what I believe he already knows about me, the next best thing to torturing and killing me slowly is to leave evidence for when I return in the next lifetime…. Evidence of a tortured and murdered son, wife, and Chinese chick who got too close to the Barrow boys.

  I had to take my chances.

  Ready to be blasted to smithereens in the next few moments, I picked up Sulyn and Alistair and moved them to the office door. I tried to give an explanation in the ancient Cantonese I’m familiar with to the guards, believing they still intended to shoot me at any moment. I doubt seriously my words were helpful…maybe it was my wild gestures to get moving. Whatever it was, it proved effective.

  “Run! We may only have a minute to get to the bottom and out to the cars!”

  “What?! That’s insane, William—”

  “No it isn’t, Dad!” I told Alistair, grabbing both his and Sulyn’s arms as I took the lead. “Kaslow’s on his way…if he isn’t here already!”

  Maybe it was the creepiness of our dim surroundings as I practically dragged them both down to the main floor. Or, it could’ve been the building’s creaks from having occupants where normally there were none…at least among the living. Whatever the reason, Alistair kept his tongue in check until we were safely out of the building and inside the back of Sulyn’s limousine. I didn’t have to tell her to urge the driver to get us out of there immediately. She handled that part marvelously, and we were speeding down the street before the Lexus had begun to pull out from the parking area.

  “What in the hell was that all about?” my son demanded, once safely on our way back to the main drive where our hotel was located.

  “You need to trust me, Dad,” I said, turning my attention to Sulyn. I forced a smile to try and ease the worry and misgivings clearly written upon her face.

  “Find someplace tonight to secure the map. And, as for our planned meeting tomorrow? Don’t say a word of it now. Have a taxi with directions to our rendezvous point meet us outside the place we had lunch today, at the prescribed time we arranged for tomorrow—don’t define any of these things in our presence tonight. In fact, don’t say anything. Please, Sulyn…I’ll explain everything to you tomorrow. Simply nod if you understand me.”

  She cast a nervous glance toward Alistair before nodding. I probably had just destroyed the fragile beginnings of our friendship—and even the deeper one with my son. But screw it. This was life and death—regardless of whether anyone else could see it or not. People were about to die—innocent people. That’s an assured fact when Viktor Kaslow is involved, as I’ve stated before. Hopefully, Sulyn and her family’s employees wouldn’t soon be among those no longer living.

  Alistair tried to badger me with questions. But this time I was as silent as a catatonic mime, staring straight ahead until I saw the spot I wanted the driver to drop us off—four blocks from the hotel.

  “Now will you tell me what in the hell’s going on?” said Alistair, once we were standing on the sidewalk. “This is beyond frigging crazy, Pops!”

  “Do you want to see her among the living again or not?”

  “Well, yeah, of course I do—what kind of fucked-up question is that?”

  “One that requires you to shut your damned mouth and just trust me!”

  Alistair waved to Sulyn and then I grabbed him forcefully by the shoulder and pulled him into the shadows of a commercial bank.

  “Don’t say another word—just listen!” I said, hating myself for the stern tone I had to use to make my point. “Kaslow is watching you right now—he sees where we’re at through my eyes. I’m going to try and get us back inside where we’re staying without giving him any more information than he already has!”

  At any other time, Alistair’s current befuddled and exasperated facial expression would be worthy of YouTube video star status. Beyond priceless. Thankfully, he kept his lips zipped tight.

  None of what happened next was easy, and I had no idea if Kaslow had already figured out where we were by then. Hell, it wasn’t impossible the sick bastard was perched in a nearby upstairs parking garage holding a high-powered rifle pointed at either one of our heads.

  I zigzagged back and forth with my son at my side, and used an alley to reach our hotel. I closed my eyes when we approached the front and told Alistair to guide me inside the building and up to our room. Meanwhile, I filled my head with happy thoughts about birds, butterflies, and growing up in Judea—things that actually do make me less stressed, and even bring some joy into my mind.

  We stepped off the elevator and a wave of relief washed over me as Alistair announced we had reached our destination. But then he gasped, muttering ‘Oh my God!’ over and over.

  I opened my eyes, gasping as well.

  The rubber stamp from Cheung Yung-fa’s safe rested inside the gold handle to our door. How the damned thing got there would be anyone’s guess. Regardless, it meant two things at face value: someone outside of Sulyn’s people and us knew we had visited Cheung Yung-fa’s office and found the safe’s contents. They also knew exactly where Alistair and I resided.

  Our protected status had ended, leaving us fully exposed. No more places to hide.

  Chapter 16

  Talk about the ultimate quandary.

  Should we immediately leave and take our chances somewhere else? Or, would it be best to quietly enter our room—me only—and move through quickly in an attempt to disarm or destroy anyone lurking inside? In all likelihood, there wasn’t anybody here—that’s the way the old timers like myself would play this type of ‘present at the doorstep’.

  For a moment, I just stood there, while my son kept mouthing ‘What in the hell do we do now?’ Granted, there were panicked vocal inflections to go with this, but I scarcely noticed. I was too busy thinking about who was involved and what this could mean—in every scope of possibilities.

  “Shhhh!”

  “But, Pops—”

  “No!... I need to think for a moment.”

  Really, I didn’t need to think any longer about anything. I knew what had to be done. Leaving the floor could easily set us up for an ambush by whoever had left the surprise on our doorknob. The way the antique stamp was precariously balanced upon the handle told me it had been delicately and purposely placed. Logic said whoever did this wasn’t inside the room, and the likelihood of an explosive linked to the door was remote. No one I knew would leave a booby trap so blatantly obvious.

  “Wait here,” I mouthed silently, pressing my forefinger against my kid’s lips to keep him from saying anything else.

  I gently removed the stamp from its perch to keep from jiggling the door handle, and quickly swiped my access key. In the next instant, I threw open the door and moved into the darkened room, somersaulting across the floor when I didn’t immediately detect anyone. Noises will usually draw some type of movement—even slight—from an assassin. I came up quickly in a crouched position, ready to launch myself in any direction, whether to avoid gunfire or meet an attacker head on. Of course, if it was Viktor Kaslow, everything I just did would produce a good laugh from him and little else.

  “That has to be the sorriest defensive roll I’ve ever seen, William!” A gleeful voice announced from the bathroom. “Maybe you should stay retired!”

  Cedric Tomlinson, my former field boss. Normally, his jovial voice would lift my heart and disarm my natural wariness. But, after what Roderick revealed to me the other night, I felt apprehensive. Cedric could be here to eliminate me and/or my progeny.

  “Come on in here, Alistair,” he said, stepping into our room while turning the bathroom light on behind him. Despite nearing his fifty-sixth birthday, Cedric’s full hairline and flawless ebony skin made him look late-thirties at worst. And, that’s only because he carried a little gray in his closely trimmed beard and hair. He flashed the dimpled movie-star smile he’s known for and opened his palms as he raised his arms above his head. Not carrying a weapon in
either hand, he motioned more urgently for Alistair to come inside. “We’ve got some serious shit to discuss.”

  My son took a tentative step into our room and looked at me for further direction. I nodded for him to shut the door behind him and join me where I stood.

  “How did you find us?” I asked, while directing Alistair to stand behind me. If Cedric intended to kill us, he would have to take me out first. “Did you follow us tonight?”

  I casually tossed the rubber stamp to him.

  “Tonight? Where’d y’all go?”

  He looked perplexed as he caught the stamp. He twirled it in his hands for a moment to study it. When he looked back up at me again, his brow was furrowed.

  “Wherever you went, is it where you picked this up?”

  “We found it waiting for us just now when we returned to our room,” I said, feeling more vulnerable than I had when we first discovered our breached secrecy moments earlier. “It was resting on the door handle, when less than twenty minutes ago it was inside an abandoned office in the warehouse district.”

  If Cedric hadn’t placed it there, since he was waiting for us inside our room, it had to be done by someone else. Logic pointed to Kaslow. No one, other than someone with unusual skills, could’ve picked the item up after we left Cheung Yung Fa’s office and beaten us back to our hotel room in time to get it perched just right on the door handle. Not to mention, I didn’t sense a normal human presence. Whoever had placed the stamp was long gone by the time we returned to our room. If it wasn’t Kaslow, then another immortal was involved.

  Let me add a caveat as to why I believe no normal human being could’ve accomplished this ‘prank’—not even with the fact we walked four blocks after the limousine dropped us off. If the perpetrator was human, and we hadn’t run into them in the lobby or elevator, I would’ve sensed their presence. Mortal human beings leave a distinct scent that hovers in the air for several minutes, and sometimes as long as fifteen to twenty minutes. However, people who have died to their original physical makeup and gained a new immortal one also carry an odor—one that’s completely different from our natural state.

  These supernatural essences fade in under a minute. That’s my basis for labeling this as an immortal’s doing. I did pick up Cedric’s human scent, although it was faint until I opened the door and entered our hotel room. It’s what alerted me to the possibility of an assassin lying in wait, and it was distinctly separate from what happened outside of our room. And, no, it’s not that unusual to be facing two entirely different enemies at once, as any seasoned agent will confirm. Still, I’ll admit that sometimes my scientific theories are as flawed as my attempts to roll for cover in a cramped hotel room.

  “Well, you should know I had nothing to do with this,” said Cedric.

  He tossed the stamp back to me after casting a worried glance at the door. Obviously, he shared my conclusion that the stamp had been placed on the door handle after he snuck into our room, roughly half an hour ago by my guess.

  “The only reason I flew out here is to try and talk some sense into you about helping us intercept Christian Morrow’s plans to purchase an unusual weapon that can discreetly kill thousands at a time,” he continued “We know you’ve been in contact with him, and we also know he has high regard for Alistair. But, time is of the essence here. He’ll be on his private jet headed for Singapore this Saturday afternoon, and will arrive in Syria by Sunday night. This can only mean Morrow is closing in on a deal for this weapon as we speak.”

  “What’s it going to take for you guys to take my retirement seriously?”

  “Does that mean you won’t help us?”

  God, how I wanted to say ‘That’s exactly what I mean!’ But I couldn’t do it. Granted, I don’t work for the CIA anymore. Period. If not for the fact I genuinely disliked this Morrow cat almost as much as I loathed Kaslow, I would’ve said ‘no thanks’ and immediately ushered Cedric out of our room.

  My gut told me this situation wasn’t as clear-cut as I wanted it to be. I knew with certainty Cedric was talking about the Mantle of Genghis Khan. I came to Hong Kong for my elusive coin and end my eight hundred year wait to retrieve it. However, more and more, I felt an additional burden upon my soul, as if keeping the armored vest out of Morrow’s hands was as critical to my salvation as collecting the full thirty coins I took as payment to betray Jesus Christ. It was as if I’d be betraying him all over again if I allowed a weapon of mass destruction—even an ancient one—to find its way into the hands of someone desperately crazy enough to use it. A multitude of innocent souls could perish, and the blame could at least partially be laid at my feet.

  I wanted no part of that reality any more than I wanted to share commerce with the crooked American businessman and his immortal Russian cohort.

  “I don’t know what I’ll do,” I said. “I have some questions. Answer them, and we’ll see.”

  “Okay…I’m game,” said Cedric, wearing a smug grin.

  He looked over at Alistair, who merely shrugged. Neither one knew where I was going with this, although my boy would surely catch on in a moment.

  “How did you find us? Was it through Roderick?”

  “Roderick? Hmmmm…. How interesting you’d start with him,” he said. The mere fact he acknowledged Roderick’s existence told me more than perhaps he realized.

  “So, you know him?”

  “Yes, I do. I’ve known him for years, though he’s a creepy fucker worse than you.”

  Well, that set up another question I had on my mind…but I decided to wait and stick with my first agenda.

  “Did he tell you that we were staying here?”

  “No. I haven’t talked to Roderick since the day you stormed out of Michael’s office.”

  “Then, how did you find us?”

  “Peter Snelling?” He laughed. “For Christ’s sake, couldn’t you pick the other alias you have of Saul Baronas?”

  Well, that sucks. They weren’t secret aliases anymore.

  “It was the bank cards, huh?”

  “It was the fact that once ‘Peter Snelling’ ended up in the hotel’s database, and it was in close proximity from where you were last seen—as William Barrow at the Royal Garden—we knew it was you.”

  He chuckled…either at how simply effective the agency’s common sense procedures still were, or how frigging foolhardy I am. I wanted to slap the damned smugness clean off his face. But, since he hadn’t mentioned Alistair’s alias, maybe I could still use that one again later, to protect him.

  “Next question…who do you think I really am?”

  I’d be lying if I said my pulse didn’t quicken while I watched him study me curiously for a moment.

  “Why, you’re William Barrow, of course!” Here came that Hollywood smile again. “That’s all I’ve ever known you as, right? In fact, that’s all anyone working in D.C. has referred to you by, from what I gather, Willie Boy! They tell me that you’ve had the name for damned near one hundred years—which opens a whole new can of worms, if we want to go there. Or, we can just skip ahead to the naked truth and call a spade for what it is….”

  I hated him right then. Not completely, since he and I have shared some enjoyable experiences—great ones, actually—over the years. The way he looked at me as he watched me squirm was truly excruciating.

  “Ah, calm down, Willie,” he teased, shaking his head in amusement. “There isn’t anyone at the agency gonna walk up to you and say, ‘Hey, Judas, how’s that coin collectin’ biz working out for you?’”

  So, it really was true. Roderick hadn’t been bullshitting me after all…as I sadly had hoped.

  “Seriously, man, we don’t give a rat’s ass about what you do on your own time or who you really are.” He glanced at Alistair, whose mortified expression on my behalf had yet to lessen. “And get this…you ain’t the only guy working for us who’s as old as you. In fact, several of your other buddies have been turning tricks for us for years.”

  Perfect an
alogy. I felt almost as dirty and unloved as a junkie whore working for an ungrateful pimp.

  “Well, that’s disappointing,” I said, which was true. And, the morose look I gave to Cedric should’ve told him I didn’t completely despise him. “So, you guys are obviously looking at this Morrow problem as me versus Viktor Kaslow, right? Contrary to our less than pleasant discussion about him in Michael’s presence, I’m sure you now see the monster he has become.”

  “Yes, we do,” he agreed, and his smile disappeared. Sam Daniels was a close friend, and I’m sure it took every ounce of restraint to not foolishly pursue Kaslow on his own. “But the greater good always outweighs any personal vendettas I might have, or even you might have, against someone like Viktor Kaslow.”

  “Well, okay…so here’s my third question. What exactly do you guys expect us to do, now that Kaslow knows where we are and Mr. Morrow likely is aware by now that we’re connected with you? Do you expect him to let us chum up again—especially after the tense exchange we had this afternoon?”

  Cedric didn’t answer right away, looking away as if gathering his thoughts.

  “The mikes we set up the other day were still in operation this afternoon, inside the boardroom,” he said, his tone hushed and thoughtful. “I agree it’ll be tough to try and work our ‘Plan A’ of getting Morrow’s trust through his previous connection with you, Alistair. But…there might be another way you two can get us close enough to intercept him before he makes the purchase of the Mantle of Genghis Kahn.”

  “So, it’s the famed armor vest you seek? Sounds like a dangerous operation you guys are best suited for,” I said, “I won’t endanger Alistair’s life any longer, not to mention other innocent people because Kaslow is around. It’s in our best interest not to get any more involved with this situation than we already have.”