The Catalina Cabal

by Bill Thesken

  “We’ll call him Carl. After my Dad.”

  The husband was a big tough guy, but he looked utterly and completely terrified to be holding his son. He was afraid to so much as stand up in case he stumbled or passed out and dropped the child. Good thing he was still sitting right next to the bed.

  Then he passed the baby very carefully to the mother whose smile filled the room as she finally got a close look at her baby.

  “Thank you everyone,” she whispered and then turned all her attention to the little package at her breast.

  As they all filed out of the room, Amber noted the clock on the wall. One o’clock in the morning. Whew, what a shift. Wait till Badger hears about this one, she thought. He’ll get a kick of it, fifteen hours in labor. She smiled at the utter grit and determination of that Mrs. Bailey.

  One of the nurses at the main station was on the phone, with a concerned look on her face. When she noticed Amber coming out of Mrs. Baily’s room, she motioned her over and pointed to the phone.

  “Someone from the police department.”

  “Hello,” said Amber. “Yes, that’s me.” She listened for a moment to the voice on the other end, then the color left her face, she dropped the phone and fainted straight down into a heap on the floor.

  24.

  Chang sat quietly in his high backed chair in his unornate office thinking about the consequences of the missed hit in Avalon. It was, after all, only one small aspect of their business and they would survive without it. He tried his best to convince himself that they would carry on without it. He would work it out with the bosses above him and come up with a suitable alternative that would be acceptable to all.

  When the assassins did not report in as necessary they knew that something must have gone wrong. The hit was scheduled at midnight and when they did not receive a phone call by dawn of the next morning, it was obvious there would never be a phone call.

  And then the police reports filtered in about the shootings on the island. Three well known and local yachtsmen dead on their catamaran, the deputy police chief also shot dead in a private home. Two unidentified Asian men also dead, one shot and the other crushed by a truck that was driven over a cliff. One other man was badly hurt, but was expected to survive.

  The FBI was sending a team to the island to help with the investigation, and even Homeland Security was getting involved.

  The newspapers were picking up the story and soon the conspiracy theories would swirl for half a day, and then fade away just as quickly as some other tragedy around the world nudged this little story off the front page.

  The assassins had failed. Miserably. Still, there was no way they could be traced back to us, Chang thought. They were invisible to the worldwide apparatus that tracked men such as them, no sign of them would show up on any western radar. The FBI would trace their fingerprints and find nothing, for their prints had been altered for just such a scenario.

  They had entered the country without going through any official port and, in fact, had arrived on U.S. soil by going through Avalon, picked up by the Black Cat and the Cabal five years ago. It was a strange twist of fate. Five long years ago, and they’d served the Triad very well. Up until now.

  The only problem he could sense coming out of this whole mess was the loss of the two assassins. How could they be replaced?

  He was so enraptured with trying to decide how they would be able to bring in a new team from China to replace the ones that were lost, that he didn’t hear the footsteps behind him. He only turned away from looking out the window when he heard the tiniest of noises like the fluttering of a butterfly’s wings. He turned quickly in his chair to see two well-dressed and hardened men flanking the doorway.

  Their faces were chiseled from granite, eyes black marbles under brooding eyelids, a calm presence and demeanor that belied an inner volcanic rage that could be unleashed with a spoken word. He knew these men, he had seen them once before when he was summoned to the boss’s home long ago. Just prior to being assigned his current position and rank.

  Why hadn’t his security team alerted him that someone was in the building? That thought faded quickly as he saw the old man standing quietly in the doorframe.

  He was thin and ancient, wizened and grey, his long beard and straight hair flowing from his head and face and down to his shoulders like a single hood from a garment. His face, like the chiseled men, was also calm and yet there was not the slightest hint of volcanic rage within these eyes. There was compassion, and a hint of pity and remorse.

  He walked slowly into the room, favoring his right leg with a slight limp, and sat in the chair facing the desk.

  Chang nearly jumped to his feet when he saw the man and he bowed deeply for a full minute as the old man entered the room and settled into the seat in front of him. He kept standing, waiting for the gesture from the old man for him to also sit down, but that gesture never came, so he remained upright and waited, being studied by the wrinkled eyes.

  “We have a problem on Catalina,” said the old one.

  “Yes. And no. Our men on Catalina are untraceable.”

  “So you say. And yet the problem has morphed its way onto these very shores and is inching closer to our doorstep.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Of course you don’t.”

  “But, they are untraceable.”

  “Nothing and no-one is untraceable. Our sources within the CIA tell us that they have been positively identified as Red Army Chinese Nationals…”

  “Impossible!” Chang shouted before he could stop himself, and the two bodyguards moved further into the office. Interrupting the old man was a dangerous thing to do, but somehow the angry word just came out. Chang bowed deeply and apologized. The old man continued.

  “…they have been identified as Chinese Nationals with links to the Red Army through fingerprint analysis.”

  “But their prints have been altered…”

  “The amazing thing about technology is that it’s ever expanding. If there is a problem, someone will always find a way to solve it. The problem in this case is altered fingerprints, and security scientists have been working on a solution for quite some time now.”

  He leaned closer to the desk

  “It was obvious from their initial scan that your assassins’ prints had been altered, so they employed their new technology, their next generation identifier. They linked the broken lines of the prints with computer software and found the army records. From there, the tiny thread has led to our west coast operations, which are too important to jeopardize. It’s an ancient Chinese prophesy come to life: ‘The thinnest of threads can be fashioned into the most ornate cloak for an emperor, or a death shroud for the same’.”

  Chang was visibly shaken and tried to maintain his composure while the old man continued.

  “I’m only telling you this as a courtesy to your long and faithful service to us.”

  This was a farewell speech and Chang knew that he would not be asked to sit down again in this lifetime.

  “We have a tenuous relationship with the United States government, as you well know. We are always on their radar and are constantly trying to avoid detection. We are tracked and monitored like the Italian mob and yet there is little they can do to thwart our activities as long as we keep them secret. We chip away at the bottom line and stay safe. We trim the tree of financial reward a little bit at a time and stay safe and secure. It is only when we use too big of an axe, try to take too big of a bite, that we get in trouble and the tree falls directly on top of us. That is what has happened on Catalina.”

  Chang heard a movement and looked at the doorway. He saw his young handsome assistant standing there in his immaculate pressed powder blue suit. Maybe he is here to save me, thought Chang for a moment and then the moment faded as he saw the look on his face. There was no pity as on the old man’s face. There was triumph.

  “Four men gunned down on their yacht in the middle of the night in the safest po
rt in the country. The pinnacle of success on the west coast of America is to be anchored in Avalon, not to be murdered in cold blood. Four well-connected and respected men gunned down by your inept assassins. And then they were laid out cold by someone more cunning and able. Their identities and purpose unveiled with the click of a button. And now the eye of the beast has turned towards us in a most intrusive and invasive way. My office this morning was raided by the FBI, my home in the calm and placid heights above Beverly Hills was turned upside down by agents going through my trash cans, my computers confiscated, my wife and visiting grandchildren turned out while they searched every nook and cranny. My castle has been invaded.”

  Chang’s eyes lowered to the desk and filled with tears.

  “I hid in the trunk of a car to travel here. You will now ride out in one.”

  Chang finished the sentence for him in his own mind, “and never to return”.

  The old man motioned to one of the guards who stepped around the desk and motioned for Chang to raise his hands. He frisked him for weapons, pulled out a small handgun from his waistband, and laid it on the desk. He nudged Chang in the back with his extended fingers, herding him like cattle out the door.

  The young man unbuttoned his coat and sat in the chair behind the desk.

  The old man was brief. “The first order of business is the man they call the Badger.

  “That’s what I was thinking also,” said the young man, and he picked up the pistol on the desk and put it carefully in a drawer on the side. “He killed two of our best assassins.”

  “Yes,” said the old man. “Two of our best, who at the same time were trying to kill him. In fact the loss of one of those of assassins will cost us dearly. He was not supposed to be used for something so frivolous. We had other plans for him. Much bigger plans that now need to be put on hold.”

  He studied the younger man for a reaction, but the young man waited patiently for Kyong to continue. The old man got slowly up from the chair and walked over to look out of the window. He rested a hand on the window sill looking down at the street far below. He could see Chang being ushered into the back seat of the black sedan. “There’s an old Chinese saying. If something is not bothering you. Leave it alone.”

  “Confucius?”

  “Me. It’s my old saying. And it’s enabled me to gain prosperity throughout my life, and I want to use it as a guiding principal in your new capacity as head of this branch of our organization. Badger is not going to cause any more trouble for us. He’s a lone wolf, I know his type. They want to be left alone. Why would you want to pull the tail of a lone wolf unless to test its bite. His action against our men was a reaction to a negative force that was brought against him. Why waste additional assets on something that will bring no money to our table? Pride? Revenge? Those reasons are for fools. Plus, and most importantly, he has proven to be a formidable opponent in war, and is best to be avoided. We have nothing to gain from engaging in another battle with him. There’s another old saying from a wise Chinese farmer, ‘sometimes life is easier if you plow around the stump’.”

  He turned away from the window and looked directly at the young man.

  “We will continue to trim the tree of prosperity a little at a time, and not get so greedy with the ax that the tree falls on us.”

  The young man nodded. “Yes Uncle.”

  “There’s another matter.”

  The old man motioned with his hand and another man came through the door and stood in front of the desk. He moved like a cat, eyes steady and unblinking, the tendons in his neck like cords of rope holding the rest of his body in readiness. He was wearing a black suit with a white shirt, loose enough to move quickly, the cuffs just short enough to reveal the edge of Chinese lettering tattooed on the inside of his wrists.

  The young man seated at the desk noticed this, and stood, and bowed, while keeping his eyes on the newcomer.

  “This is Wang lei. He is your second in command. We are promoting him this very day. You will work closely with him, he will listen to your instructions, and you will take his advice. He is calm and very capable. He runs a very successful restaurant, has shown tenacity in keeping the peace in his neighborhood, and will a great asset to you.”

  The young man bowed again. “Yes Uncle.” Wang lei means rock pile in Chinese and by the look of his new assistant he could pound a solid granite boulder into that pile.

  25.

  The Spice rocked as gently as a baby’s crib at her berth in the harbor, which was a good thing since I was a bruised purple and scraped red throbbing sore from head to toe. The only place on my body that wasn’t bruised or scraped was a little spot above my left eye, Amber reached over and lightly kissed the spot and smiled, trying to cheer me up.

  Her action brought back in a flash my dream of her as an angel whispering in my ear, and I managed a slight smile through cracked lips. Maybe she really was an angel. I wanted to hug her but I could barely lift my arms.

  The doctors were amazed that I had no broken bones, just five broken ribs, but they were mostly cartilage and didn’t count, they told me. Sure they didn’t, as long as you didn’t try to breathe, cough, or laugh, which wasn’t going to happen too soon anyways, laughing that was.

  They kept me in the hospital for rest of the night after finding me, and all through the morning, until they ran enough tests to determine that there was no internal bleeding. They let me go after lunch the next day.

  I had to fight them to get out of there. The doctors were determined that I needed to stay put and not move an inch from the hospital bed.

  “We don’t know what complications might show in the next few hours. You have a lot of blood vessels all throughout your body and internal organs that have been bruised and are brittle from rolling on rocks at thirty miles an hour. Something could burst or start seeping and you could be in big trouble very quickly.”

  I wasn’t buying it. I needed fresh air more than a safety net. “You can’t keep me here against my will,” was my reply.

  The lead doctor was forthright. “We can if it’s in your best interest. If we think by leaving you’re in imminent danger, we’ll keep you here. Maybe you’re just not thinking clearly.”

  “Try to keep me here and I’ll sue you for malpractice.”

  He frowned and shook his head.

  “Cut him loose,” he said to the nurse standing nearby, and then to me. “But don’t say we didn’t warn you.”

  I hated hospitals and was glad to get the hell out of there. Amber flew over on a chartered helicopter after finding out what happened and helped me get out to the Spice. My beautiful Amber. Funny how I hated hospitals but I sure as heck loved a nurse.

  I was stretched out on the lounge chair on deck in the shade of the awning. I was trying to find a comfortable position a quarter inch at a time. It was impossible so I gave up trying and just took it. My whole body felt like a big sore stubbed toe.

  She reached out her hand and tried to find another place that wasn’t either bruised or scraped and finally settled on lightly patting me on the top of my head.

  “Can I get you anything?” She asked hopefully. “Club soda with lime on ice?” My favorite drink.

  I shook my head miserably. “Not today I’m afraid.” My go-to beverage of plain soda water and lime over ice wasn’t going to cut it for a while, I was afraid. I threw myself out of a truck going about thirty miles an hour on Chimes Tower Road and took a tumble down a rocky hill, and now I was going to have to fall off the wagon for a little while. I hadn’t taken a drink of alcohol in over a year, but that was about to change. Lucky thing Gale and her entourage had left behind some of their high class beverages.

  “Go downstairs into the galley. There’s a bottle of ice-cold champagne in the top of the fridge, and a bottle of brandy in the cabinet. Get the biggest glass you can find, fill a third with the brandy and top it off with the bubbly.” I smiled through broken lips at her. “Please.”

  The view was fine, we were a
nchored on calm water which was bluer than the sky. The winds were from the east and the bows of all the boats were pointed into it. All the sterns facing west towards the island. The dry desert island. Catalina.

  I’d gotten attached to the place, in more ways than one. I grimaced and adjusted my backside, which was attached to a large island side rock just a few hours ago. The lucky rock that stopped my rolling and prevented me from going all the way over the precipice.

  The paramedics found me halfway down the cliff still in one piece, while the Chinese assassin was scattered in pieces along with the broken truck all the way to the bottom, part of an arm still wedged in the surfboard racks.

  Amber came back up the stairs with a quarter gallon goblet the size of a flower vase that she’d found in one of the cabinets, and dutifully filled as I requested. She added a straw on the side for comfort.

  “It looks like you poured the entire bottle,” I said.

  “You don’t have to drink the whole thing.”

  “What about you?”

  “Someone has to be the designated driver.”

  I smiled. We weren’t going anywhere for quite some time. The first sip, ice cold bubbles bit my lips and then went down smooth and soon another and another until the warm glow of the mixture seeped into my inner pores, blotting out the edges of pain and brought a sigh to my lips.

  “Wouldn’t you be more comfortable in a real bed, like in a hotel room or a hospital?”

  “Are you kidding me? This is like a floating palace. I’ve got everything I need. A comfy chair, a nice view, my best girl.”

  Her left eyebrow raised a notch. “Best girl?”

  “Only girl.” My tongue was getting heavy and thick from the beverage. This was a perfect time to get a hug from a beauty, and I reached out circling my hand around her perfect waist and pulled her closer. Then we heard the deep rumbling of a pair of big engines on a powerful boat idling slowly towards us from the open ocean into the harbor.