Acid pondered her words. It was heartening to hear a mother stand by her child so vehemently. Would her own mother have done the same if she knew the full story?
“Do you think I’m crazy?” Tam asked. “Or as bad as him?”
Acid paused. Truth was, she couldn’t decide whether what she was hearing was the most ridiculous thing she’d ever heard, or the most beautiful.
“Listen, Tam, I am in no position to give anyone advice or offer moral judgement, believe me. If it works for you, go for it.” She crossed her arms on the table in front of her. “One thing I can’t understand, however. Why let Vinh run around on a wild goose chase, putting himself in danger, if you knew Huy was alive?”
Tam turned away. “I didn’t know for certain. And I was scared. I didn’t think Vinh would go to the authorities but I couldn’t be certain. He blamed himself for Huy’s disappearance. He wanted to do this. Vinh has had a lot of tragedy in his life.”
Acid sat back in her seat. “His son?”
“He told you?”
“Yes. I know everything.” Tam stared. Getting a read on her. Acid nodded her head. “Yes. Everything.”
“I see,” she said softly. She gazed into her tea. Didn’t look up when she spoke. “It was only one time. We were never together. I was mourning my husband’s death and Vinh was a good friend to me. One night our friendship went too far. I was sorry for what it led to – the repercussions. But without that night I wouldn’t have my son.”
“Repercussions?”
“Vinh’s young son. His marriage. We were friends, his wife and I. I told him not to tell her, but the guilt ate at him. For some reason he chose to tell her while they were on holiday. They fought in the street. No one was watching Danh. He ran out in front of a car.” She stopped, her voice breaking. “Vinh blamed himself. Still does.”
Acid forced down a mouthful of tea. “How come you never told Huy that Vinh was his father?”
A sadness fell over Tam’s face. “I should have. But Vinh was married, and then later heartbroken. It never seemed the right time. As far as everyone knew I was carrying my dead husband’s child. That’s what Huy was told as well. Until he discovered the truth.”
“I take it he didn’t relish the discovery?”
Tam finished her tea and held the empty cup in the palm of her hand. “He was angry. More than angry. We fought. That was the last time I saw him. But he has a good heart. He will see me when he is ready.”
Acid cricked her neck. “Wow,” she said. “I think that’s incredible.”
“What do you mean?”
“That you still give him the benefit of the doubt – still love him – despite everything I’ve told you.” She held her hand up. “Don’t get me wrong, I think it shows real strength.”
“You do not have this?” Tam asked. “Where is your mother?”
Acid snorted loudly but didn’t look up. She ran her fingers around the rim of her cup. “My mother’s dead. Same reason Vinh is in hospital. Because of me.”
“Oh? What did you do?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“Try me,” Tam told her. “We are awake now, yes? It will be morning in a few hours. Then I shall call the hospital. Find out about Vinh.”
Through her hair, Acid saw Tam's slim hand reach out to touch her on the wrist and give it a squeeze. “It might help,” she told her. “Something tells me you have a lot of stories weighing you down, Acid Vanilla.”
“Oh Tam,” she sneered. “You really have no idea.”
Forty
It may have been because her mind was still racing, taking longer than normal to come down from its manic high - or there may even have been something in the green tea that she didn't know about - but over the next hour, Acid told Tam everything. Or at least, told her as much as she could without compromising herself or totally freaking the old woman out. She stuck to the story of young Alice Vandella, explaining how she’d killed her mother’s abusive lover before being sent to a home for dangerous girls. Despite the anger and confusion knotting her stomach, despite the bats screaming at her to shut up, Acid spoke candidly and with vigour. She did, however, brush over any mention of her previous career less she get carried away with the oversharing. That she’d fallen in with some bad sorts (the man who shot Vinh being one of them) and regretted many of her life choices was as far as she went - adding that she was here in Hanoi looking for justice and closure. As she got to the part about her mother’s illness her voice began to waver and she paused for a sip of tea.
“You poor thing,” Tam said, patting her hand. “This is a great burden for you, I can tell.”
“They killed her because of me, because of my mistakes. How can do I even deal with that?”
Tam left her hand on hers. “You do it one day at a time. She would not want you to suffer.”
Acid shook her head as a bitter laugh crept out of her throat. “You really don’t know the half of it. Even trying to put it right I’m still messing everything up, putting myself and others in danger.” She sighed. “Vinh got it right. I do have a death wish.”
She glanced at Tam, the gentle woman with the kind smile and sad eyes. She didn’t look shocked, or afraid, or anything at all but composed.
“Do you want to know the worst thing?” Acid asked, finding her rhythm. “A part of me is glad she’s dead. I’m angry as hell, sure, but I’m also relieved. How can I think that when it’s my fault?”
“You did not kill her.”
“They killed her to get at me.” She gripped her knee, digging her fingernails into the flesh. “I’m bad news. Vinh’s lying in hospital because of me.”
“Don’t be too hard on yourself.” Tam replied. “These people you speak of sound like a lot of people I have known - nasty, evil, bullies. Weak too, but not like Vinh. He is a survivor. Like me. Like you. Like your mother too, from what you tell me.”
Acid sneered away a shudder of emotion. “You think?”
“Don’t underestimate the love a mother has for her child,” Tam said. “Despite who he is, what he has done, I will always love Huy. I’m sure your own mother was the same. It doesn’t matter who you were or who you are now. She will always love you.” Acid opened her mouth to speak but Tam raised her hand and fixed her dead in the eyes. Her voice dropped an octave. “But this is not over for you. You have to pull yourself up and do what you need to do?”
“And what do I need to do?”
“Find this man from your past, who has this hold over you.” Acid opened her mouth to speak but Tam held up her hand. “You don’t have to explain. I see it in your face. In your body. He brings you great pain. So find him and face him. Kill him, if that’s your destiny. This is how you find peace.”
“Woah, there, Tam. You’re a dark horse.”
“I am a fighter!” she snapped. “Also like you. We kill the demons inside of us by facing them head on. It sounds like you are on a mission to rid the world of bad people. Like my son, in his own way. Keep sight of that. But also, beware of allowing hate to guide you. This is a destructive energy. One that clouds our judgement.”
“You’re a wise woman Tam,” Acid told her. “And a better one than me.”
“I’m not so sure about that. And you are not a bad person. Just troubled. You love your mother and want justice for her. She would have been proud of you, I think.”
Acid rubbed the back of her hand over her eyes. “She was proud of me. I know she was. When I was in Crest Hill she was there every visiting day. A four-hour round trip.”
Tam let out a long sigh. Nothing else to be said.
Acid sat back in her seat, glad her instincts had brought her here. Tam was right. She had to finish this. To get justice for her mother, and Vinh, and herself too. It was the only way she was going to move forward. The only way she could live a life approaching normality. She stretched her arms wide, feeling the muscles in her neck pop.
The clock on the wall read 4 a.m. It was clear Spitfire’s time in
Hanoi was done. He’d be on the next plane out of here. Which meant she didn’t have long. Hours, if she was lucky. But she was ready. She knew where she had to go next. She knew what she had to do.
Forty-One
Spitfire Creosote was seething with a rage that was uncomfortable. After giving Acid Vanilla’s little boyfriend a new blow-hole, the thought had crossed his mind to trek back to the Cai Moi warehouse to retrieve his car. But he’d decided against it. He’d set up the hire using a cloned card, so it was no bother to him and, besides, the walk back to the hotel would do him good. Clear his head. The plan now was to get his things and get a flight back to Blighty.
As he got to the edge of the French District, and the Hoan Kiem Lake, he slowed his pace. Gave himself time to reflect on the last few hours. To better focus on the bile twisting up his guts.
The fact Acid was here in Hanoi trying to kill him wasn’t giving much cause for consternation. Yes, she was angry. Out for blood. And yes, she might have killed Davros Ratpack, but Davros had been getting slow these last few years. Spitfire would have never said it to anyone, but he suspected the man’s heart wasn’t in the game the way it once had been. But no one could say the same for him. Spitfire Creosote was still a force to be reckoned with. A deadly killer. The same Mr Sensational he’d always been. Acid Vanilla was no threat to him. But that didn’t mean she hadn’t pissed him off royally.
As if to make matters worse his phone was now vibrating against his chest. He took it out and stared at the caller ID as he steadied himself internally. Caesar calling. He waited another few seconds, then, when he was suitably grounded, he answered.
“Good evening, boss.”
“Don’t you good-evening-boss me. I’ve just pissing well heard. Where are you?”
“News travels fast.”
“That it does, Spitfire. Raaz found a backdoor into their comms channel. We’ve been monitoring them for the last twenty-four hours.”
Spitfire was impressed. Over twenty years with Annihilation and they were becoming the multi-media network Caesar had always promised.
“So you heard the meeting?”
“I heard they’re not taking us on long term. I heard they took the bastard data files and told us to piss off!”
Spitfire clenched his fist, a white-knuckled ball of hate, but his voice remained calm. “I tried my best, C. You know me, I can sell ice to Innuits. But they weren’t interested. Bunch of freaks. Didn’t help matters when Acid turned up, of course.”
Caesar grumbled over the line. The words were indecipherable as the line crackled. Then his voice came back, serious-tone to the max. “Listen to me. Acid Vanilla is always going to be a pain in the arse, until she’s put in the ground. But right now, we’ve got a bigger problem. Those Vietnamese shits have fucked us. If the data we’ve sold them – at a bloody reasonable price, I might add – is used the way they say, they could well become an exceedingly powerful force in the Far East in the next year or two. We needed that contract, Spitfire. Not so much the money, but the foothold it would give us in the region. Them backing out makes us seem weak. Makes us seem like amateurs. I will not have that, you hear me?”
Spitfire was a block away from his hotel. Best to finish this conversation in the open air. He chose a bench opposite the Ly Thai To Garden and sat.
“I totally agree,” he told Caesar. “So what do you want me to do?”
“Where are you now?”
Spitfire glanced down the street. Over a small copse of trees, he could see the large bronze head of the Ly Thai To statue. Beyond that, the Tonkin Palace and the impressive white facade of his hotel. The Sofitel Legend Metropole Hanoi. One of the most expensive hotels in the city, but still a steal at five and a half million dong per night.
“To be honest, I was going to pack my case, get a drink and then get the hell out of here,” he told him. “But I’m thinking now you might have another job for me.”
“You thought correctly, my friend.”
“I see,” said Spitfire. “So what’s the call?”
“You know what,” Caesar told him. “Go to Plan B.”
Spitfire got up from the bench and smiled. Good. Spitfire liked Plan B.
“No problem, boss,” he said. “Consider it done.”
Forty-Two
The fluttering pressure of a million bat wings filled Acid’s soul as she approached the Cai Moi warehouse. She was alert, focused. Every muscle hard. Twitching with readiness. As she neared the main entrance, she crossed her arms over her chest and grabbed a Beretta in each hand. Each pistol held a new magazine. Seventeen rounds per gun, plus one in each chamber. She stroked her index finger along the smooth metal triggers and pressed on.
There had been a passing thought, as she had travelled here from Tam’s place, that she might enter via the roof, as before. But she’d quickly dismissed the idea. The time for stealth and strategic movement was over. Somewhere between Vinh getting his sternum blasted open and the walk over here, she’d shifted from reasoned tactician to manic killer. Her body and mind ached for vengeance. Desperate to squeeze hot lead into any bastard who deserved it.
As she entered the yard an image flashed across her mind’s eye. A time many years ago, when she first met Spitfire Creosote. They were standing in the main room at Honeysuckle House, Caesar’s covert assassin training academy in the country. They were both sweating and breathless, after a particularly gruelling sparring session.
“You know, darling, you’re becoming a real good fighter,” Spitfire had purred in that deep voice of his. “But technique alone won’t make you a world-class killer.”
Acid had been in awe of him back then. She’d asked him to explain, and hung on his every word.
“Mindset is as important as action,” he’d continued. “It’s imperative you cultivate a killer’s mentality – a way of channelling your awareness. That way you free yourself of fear, and anger, and apprehension.”
Over those first few months Spitfire had been so helpful. Caring too, as he’d explained eloquently about the ‘Characteristics of The Killer’, as he called them. Fifteen mindsets Acid would have to hone and harmoniously integrate into her persona. Only then, Spitfire told her, would she have a true killer instinct.
He was bang on the money too. Honing those killer characteristics had made Acid Vanilla into who she was. The world’s deadliest female assassin. And now, despite her doubts over the last few years, she had to step back into that persona again. She had to utilise every one of those characteristics. Tunnel vision was an important one. Heightened situational awareness as well. But Acid knew the major player in this situation was the one she’d always found trickiest to control. Lack of emotion.
She reached the building and pressed her back against the cold brick, edging her way towards the door. Tam had made Acid promise she wouldn’t kill Huy. But as far as she was concerned she had leeway if she needed to apply pressure. She was here for answers and she was running out of time.
Acid got up to the door and stopped. Over in the distance the faint yelp of the dogs mixed in with the hum of the city traffic drifting up from the south. But coming from inside, nothing. No sound at all. She nudged against the door, opening it an inch and peering inside. A pink neon glow bathed the walls of the long corridor but there was no one in sight. She slipped inside, letting the door suck shut behind her, and crept down the long corridor as it zig-zagged around to reveal a doorway at the far end. Despite the gloom and minimal lighting, she could see the door hanging open. Beyond that she couldn’t see much further, but no guards were present.
She reached the end of the corridor and squinted into the next room. It was a small holding pen leading into the main space of the warehouse, but the way the room was set out, in an L-shape, she could only see the wall in front of her. A large splatter of bright red blood ran from one corner. It was still wet. With every muscle tense, and unsure what she was going to find, Acid stepped further into the room.
“Ah, shit.”
A noise came from the next room and Acid sprang to her feet. Gripping the guns tight, she moved over to the door. Listening. It was a dull wailing sound, like some sort of animal. She kicked the door open and strode into the space with guns at arm’s length. She didn’t blink. The room was dark, but she caught sight of something moving over by the wall. Before she could get a proper look, a hooded guard appeared from behind a pile of crates. Acid saw the muzzle flash of the UZI before she heard it and leapt backwards through the door as a hail of bullets chiselled at the stone surround.
She gave it a beat, waiting until the initial flurry of shots subsided. Then before she had a chance to consider the danger she moved back into the room. The guard was standing in the same spot, waiting for her. His eyes were wide and crazed. He gnashed his teeth and yelled something in Vietnamese as he aimed the UZI her way. But Acid was too quick for him. She aimed at his waist and opened fire, zippering a burst of shots in a rising string directly up the centreline of his body. She didn’t wait around to watch the man fall. Aiming the guns in a wide arc to cover the entire space, she moved along the side of the room with her back against the wall. As she reached the nearside corner of the room, she noticed four bodies lying on the raised platform area. More of the Cai Moi guards. All dead. Along with the two in the corridor, and the man she’d killed a few moments ago, that made seven. She’d counted eight guards the last time she was here.
The Acid Vanilla Series Page 45