“Cy!” Veronica jumped a little. That was somewhat satisfying. “What are you doing here?”
Dekker didn’t bother getting up. “Bombay,” he said gruffly.
“I was told to find you for our interview,” I said grimly.
“Oh.” Ronnie stared at me, her mind trying to work out when she had said this and to whom.
I sat down and joined them. “Sounds like you’ve started without me.”
“How did Zerleg and Zolban do?” Ronnie asked, her voice wavering a little. Did she feel guilty? I wondered how she was going to feel when she watched me rip Dekker’s throat out in front of her.
“They both lost.” I wasn’t interested in making her feel better about playing hooky.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” she said quietly, avoiding my eyes.
“I was just telling Ronnie about my work.” Dekker’s voice had a strange edge. He was challenging me. But for what? Ronnie? Or just that need men have to best an opponent who has taken them down?
I took a deep breath. If I was going to kill him, it had to look like it wasn’t premeditated. I replaced my naked fury with a relaxed smile.
“I bet you have some good stories,” I said.
Dekker did not relax. You couldn’t cut the tension with a Ginsu knife. Ronnie’s skin flushed red. It was clear she had never been in this situation before.
“Really, guys, this is no big deal. Maybe we can meet up for dinner or something?” She tried to smile but was too nervous. For a moment I allowed myself the luxury of wondering what she was thinking about.
“I don’t think Bombay is interested in talking.” Dekker’s voice was rough…ugly with intent. He rose to his feet, fists clenched.
I remained seated but slowly took off my deel. It was a gift, after all, and I didn’t want it ruined by what was about to happen. I’d been fighting men all of my life. I could spot a gauntlet being thrown down a mile off.
“And why is that?” I asked, feigning innocence.
“I think you know why.” He spat the words. There was no mistaking his intent. But where did this come from? Was he fighting because he wanted Ronnie? Or did he know why I was here?
Fighting men have a sixth sense. It is something that has kept them alive on many occasions. The failure to develop this ability means certain death. The seventh sense is one of self-preservation under dangerous circumstances you set in motion yourself. If I survived this, I made a mental note to tell Ronnie so she could use it in her thesis.
Unfortunately, I didn’t have much time to think about this because Dekker charged while I was still on the ground. I would’ve rolled neatly to the side, but Ronnie was behind me and would bear the brunt of his weight. I lay back and using my right arm to shove her away, I brought my feet up and lifted Dekker up and over to the ground behind me.
I was on my feet before he could recover. Ronnie wisely ran off to a safe distance.
“Go back!” I shouted before Dekker charged again. He came at me like a linebacker, his shoulder lowered. Apparently he was going for a “ground and pound” play. I stepped to the left, swiveled and kicked him in the ass.
“Go back!” I shouted at Ronnie again. She just stood there in shock, shaking her head. Great. Now I’d have a witness.
Dekker jumped up and delivered a roundhouse kick—to my good shoulder, thank god. He’d switched from tackling to kickboxing. I took the blow and landed a side-kick to his solar-plexus. He stepped backward, regained his balance, then tried a front kick to my right shin. I managed to dodge, hooking his extended leg with mine and twisting him off balance.
Even though I studied it, I’ve never really gotten into kickboxing. The idea of fighting on one leg seems too risky. Now boxing, there was a sport, I thought, as I landed two jabs with my left and an uppercut with my right to his jaw. Dad was a boxer. It’s all about the footwork.
Dekker punched at me, missing my nose but hitting my cheek below my left eye. That was going to look like hell later. I went for a counterblow, but he blocked it. I took advantage of his somewhat doubled-over stance by grabbing the back of his head and bringing my knee up hard into his abdomen. I followed this by bringing my elbow down on the back of his head. He toppled and fell.
“Stop it!” Veronica had found her voice and decided this was a good time to let us know.
It distracted me just enough for Dekker to pull me to the ground. He climbed on top of me and began swinging at my head. Bastard managed to land a few blows. That was what I got for being distracted by a woman.
I punched him in the throat and knocked him off me. I was just about to get to my feet when he kicked me in the side of the knee, bringing me back down. Great. This was going to take all day.
Why wasn’t Veronica running? Didn’t it occur to the woman she could get help? She sure as hell wasn’t trying to help me, not that I could blame her with fists and feet flying all over. Still, she needed to go. At the very least, so I could kill this bastard once and for all!
I hit the ground hard on my bad shoulder and in spite of myself, couldn’t stop from wincing. Dekker saw that and began a rapid burst of punches to that very same shoulder. How sporting of him.
“Stop hitting him! He’s injured!” Ronnie screamed.
Dekker paused long enough for me to see a look of comprehension come over his face. He grinned and drove his elbow into head. As the stars faded to an inky smear I thought, At least that solves that mystery.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
"A desperate disease requires a dangerous remedy."
- Guy Fawkes
“Where’s Ronnie!” were the first words out of my mouth as I came to. I wasn’t even sure whether I was still in the grasses or in a ger. Opening my eyes was an exercise in practical pain.
“Quiet, Cy,” Odgerel soothed. Other faces swam into view, including my newest BFF, Dr. Baatar.
“Where is she?” I pressed weakly. This time I knew better than to try to get up.
I could see Sansar-Huu look at Chudruk, who looked back at him. That didn’t seem good.
“Just be still,” Dr. Baatar said quietly.
In spite of the pain, I struggled to move. Why wasn’t anyone answering me?
“You have had a second impact to your concussion. You could have brain damage.” That caught me up short. I lay back down.
The doctor handed me some pills, which I took without question. He spoke in Mongolian to my friends and I gave up even trying to understand them. Instead, I looked around the room. Everyone was there. Well, almost everyone.
“You have to rest. The doctor did not see any signs of damage, but you can’t leave here tonight,” Sansar-Huu said once Dr. Baatar had gone. “He will be back in the morning. You may need to go to the hospital for a CT scan.”
“Alright. Fine. Just tell me where Ronnie is and I promise I will rest.”
“She came and told us where you were, then she left,” Zerleg said.
“We haven’t seen her since,” Zolban added.
I struggled to get up. “I have to find her…”
“Cy!” Odgerel shouted. “You cannot go anywhere. Ronnie will be fine. Just tell us what happened.”
I hated to admit it, but I wouldn’t be of help to anyone in this condition. I slowly lowered myself back down and filled everyone in on the fight.
“I’m afraid Ronnie’s gone after Dekker,” I finished.
“Why?” Chudruk asked.
“I don’t know. To chew him out. To ask him why.” My words were starting to spin around in my mouth and they sour.
Sansar-Huu, Chudruk, Zerleg and Zolban took off immediately to search the campground. Odgerel and Yalta insisted on staying with me. I watched as my zazul took a chair outside to sit in and keep watch. I felt sorry for Dekker if he came back to finish me off.
“She has feelings for you, you know,” Odgerel said as she put a cold cloth on my head.
“Does she?” Deep down I knew she was right. I just had a hard time believing it.
&nbs
p; “Yes. And you have feelings for her.”
I didn’t say anything. I was too worried about Ronnie. Why did she run off like that? What could she have been thinking?
“Veronica was very upset when she came here to tell us you were hurt,” Odgerel continued.
“It wasn’t her fault,” I said.
She looked at me, puzzled. “What do you mean?”
So I explained my jealousy over Dekker was flirting with her and how Ronnie knew all about it.
“I was an ass,” I concluded.
My friend laughed. “Yes! You were!” She went off to admonish the kids who were laughing at something. A second later she placed Sartre on my chest. As I started to stroke her fur, she purred. And it seemed I was back to where I’d started.
It was kind of soothing, lying on the cot, petting my pig while the kids played on the floor. Odgerel sang songs that made the children giggle as she went about the preparations for dinner. I tried to think about what I needed to do to kill Dekker, but my head hurt too much. The pills the doctor gave me helped a little, but did nothing for the fear I had for Ronnie.
Sartre slid down into my armpit, snuggled up and went to sleep. That was soothing. A couple of times the kids tried to snatch her up, but their mother was always there to step in. I tried not to think of what Dekker might do to Veronica. So I tried to imagine that I was in my own ger with Veronica. What would our children be like?
This may have been the first time I ever thought about having kids with anyone. Oh, I loved kids. My cousins have some really funny children. I just never wanted any of my own. Most of the women I messed around with had families of their own. It just never came up. Part of the reason was that once they turned five, they had to start school. My life wasn’t meant for settling down and joining the PTA. And at five, Bombay kids had to start their training.
I suppose with our combined educations Veronica and I could home-school as we traveled. Although I didn’t think my wife would like me training our children to become hired killers. What strange thoughts go through your head when you’ve been clubbed by a Dutch mercenary at a Mongolian wrestling festival.
Zerleg and Zolban burst through the door, rudely awakening Sartre. She let them know her displeasure with a loud wheek then set about chewing on my T-shirt.
“We can’t find her!” Zerleg said, out of breath.
“We looked everywhere!” Zolban panted.
Within the hour, Sansar-Huu and Chudruk returned with similar information.
“Two men I know saw her leave the grounds with Dekker,” Chudruk added.
It was silent in the ger for a few moments. I handed the guinea pig off to the children and they immediately fattened her up with grass.
“Why would she go with him?” Zolban asked. His uncle shot him a look. It occurred to me that everyone here thought Veronica had chosen Dekker over me. They didn’t know what kind of man he was, what kind of danger Ronnie was in.
“I think I need to tell you a little something about Arje Dekker. Odgerel, could you send the kids outside for a few moments?”
Yalta came in when the kids went out. Chudruk translated. I told them I’d met Dekker on the circuit and read about him in the news. This seemed to mollify my friends. When I told them about the atrocities he’d committed, they were horrified. These were the descendants of the great Genghis Khan. They knew about the horrors of war. But the brutality of what Dekker had done shocked them.
“I don’t know why he has targeted me, and I don’t care. What I do care about is making sure he doesn’t hurt Veronica to get my attention.”
I had just finished when there was a knock at the door. Sansar-Huu’s oldest poked her head in and handed Zolban a note.
“She says a boy dropped this off.” He handed the note to me.
My name was on the outside. The eyes of everyone in the tent were on me as I opened it.
Meet me at the abandoned block of flats outside of the city. He included directions. How thoughtful. But what time? And would he have Veronica with him? He didn’t mention to come alone.
I looked around the room. There was no way I could involve my friends in this. But I would need a ride.
Sansar-Huu turned off the headlights and coasted into a crumbling parking lot. It was almost midnight. And very dark. I felt for the flashlight in my pocket.
“We will look around for Veronica,” he whispered, pointing at Chudruk.
“Just stay out of sight. I’ll yell when it’s over,” I replied. This time I was taking no chances. Chudruk had given me his set of throwing knives…a sport I’d taught him when we worked together in the States. My goal was to find Dekker so my friends could find Veronica. We were a block from the meeting site.
Dekker had chosen a pile of rubble that used to be a Soviet-designed apartment building. There were many places he could hide. This was the perfect location for an ambush. Whatever happened, it had to be quick and quiet. I wanted this man dead once and for all.
My friends would go on foot around the perimeter, carefully searching for Ronnie. Both men were armed with old semiautomatics. We only had two guns, and I thought it would be better if they carried them. I could work quickly with knives.
My plan was to walk into the middle of the complex. Dekker wanted to see me. Well, that’s what he was going to get. I waited until my eyes adjusted to the darkness. Then I headed in.
The air was sharp, in spite of it being July. The clinking of broken cement clanged on twisted, exposed rebar as rats slithered in the darkness. I wanted to find him right away. I was going to kill Arje Dekker if I had to do it with my bare hands. Fortunately, I can do that. It’s simple leverage, really.
I heard footsteps off to my left. They were moving quickly in my direction, so I ducked into a broken entryway. The darkness smothered all light. The steps grew louder and I tightened my grip on one of the knives. Suddenly, the footsteps stopped, then started running the opposite direction.
Lunging from my doorway, I flipped on my flashlight only to see a shadow ahead round the corner. I was so busy concentrating on what was in front of me, I failed to look down. Something large tripped me. I fell, immediately twisting to my right. Pulling out the knife, I hurled myself at the body. It didn’t move.
I shined the flashlight and found the unconscious form of Veronica Gale on the ground in front of me. This left me with a dilemma: I could run after Dekker, or get this woman to safety. This wasn’t her fight. She wasn’t supposed to be here. The choice was clear.
I carried her back to the truck over my good shoulder and placed her gently in the passenger seat. I started the car and drove to the ruins, honking the horn again and again. Chudruk and Sansar-Huu emerged from the darkness and climbed in.
“He drove off.” Chudruk pointed toward the airport.
“She’s bleeding,” Sansar-Huu said. “She’s been hit in the head. Her breathing is shallow.”
I wasn’t even surprised to see Dr. Baatar at the hospital. He admitted Veronica and me, giving us both CT scans and thoroughly checking us out. He assigned us to a room for the night and Chudruk stayed to stand guard while Sansar-Huu went back to the ger. I passed out once the doctor convinced me Ronnie was all right. I slept like a stone.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Evey Hammond: [reads] Vi Veri Veniversum Vivus Vici.
V: [translates] By the power of truth, I, while living, have conquered the universe.
Evey Hammond: Personal motto?
V: From "Faust."
Evey Hammond: That's about trying to cheat the devil, isn't it?
V: It is.
-V for Vendetta
I’d been around a lot of dirtbags in my life. And I’d gotten to kill most of them. But none of them had ever been a real threat to me before. Maybe partly because I was younger but mostly because I was unattached. Bad guys had no leverage, nothing to threaten me with that would actually scare me in any way. Some of my cousins had been through rough times with either their kids being kidnapped
or the people they loved threatened in some way. But not me.
This was new. Veronica was in danger. Because of me. And my Vic had escaped his sentence because of my mistakes. This was unheard of. I don’t think anyone in the Bombay tribe had to chase a Vic. We always took them out where they stood.
My confidence, for the first time in my life, was shaken. I couldn’t just walk away from this one. And I didn’t know what to do. My number one task was to hunt down Arje Dekker and kill him so that Veronica was safe.
“Uh…” Veronica shifted on the hospital bed.
“Veronica?” I asked gently, closing the gap between our beds.
“Cy?” She looked up at me and frowned, then closed her eyes.
“You’re all right. The doctor says you are fine. We’re booked on the next flight home.” There was no reaction. But even if she was unconscious, it made me feel good to tell her that she was safe. Of course, I left out that the next flight home was on the Bombay Family’s private plane, but I figured she didn’t need to hear that.
My biggest concern was Dekker. He was gone, and I was convinced that he knew that I was going to kill him. And I would kill him. There was no doubt about that.
Chudruk and Sansar-Huu went back to get Veronica’s and my things. I stepped out of the room to make a phone call.
“Missi?” I said quietly as my cousin answered. “I’m going to need the family jet and some information on Dekker’s whereabouts.”
“Hey, Coney!” came a voice that was not Missi’s. “It’s Monty. Mom’s on assignment.”
Damn. I really needed her. She was the one person who could get me what I needed. Leave it to the Bombay Council to send her out when she was our best techie.
“The jet will be there tomorrow morning.” Monty’s voice interrupted. “Who’s Dekker?”
Montgomery Bombay was one of Missi’s twin teenage sons. “Look, Monty, I appreciate the help. But you don’t have the chops yet to…”
“Okay, got it. Arje Dekker, on a flight to Berlin then on to London. I can have you two land at Heathrow at the same time.”
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