by David Archer
From there, they went on foot. The area was extremely crowded, and they saw a number of Western tourists. Jenny pointed out that all of the dozens of bars they saw had sexily dressed girls standing in front of them, flirting with every male that walked by. Neil actually blushed more than once, when girls would run up to him and try to press themselves against his long legs.
They reached the alley after only a few minutes, and had no trouble locating Champions’ Arena. The place was brightly lighted, with neon signs proclaimed it as the home gymnasium of several Muay Thai past champions. They stopped and looked it over for a moment before they entered, and then Jenny led the way once again.
“Mr. Pak?” Jenny said to the first man she saw. “I’m looking for Mr. Pak, is he around?”
That man called to another one, who hurried over and looked at Jenny. “I am so sorry,” he said, “but my friend, he does not speak English. What can I do to help you?”
“Oh, thank you,” Jenny said. “I’m looking for Mr. Pak, can you tell me where to find him?”
The man looked at her somewhat suspiciously. “Mr. Pak? May I ask why you wish to see him?”
Jenny smiled sweetly and pointed at Noah. “Because I think my fighter, here, can beat his fighters. I thought maybe we could set up a match, and both of us make some money.”
The man’s eyebrows rose as he looked at Noah over, but he nodded once and asked Jenny to wait. He turned and jogged across the room, and Jenny turned to look at Noah.
“Hey, I know a little bit about Muay Thai,” she said. “It’s called the art of eight limbs, because you use essentially every part of your body in fighting. Knees, elbows, they’re just as important as feet and fists, and if you don’t know what you’re doing, the other guy’s elbow can be downright deadly.”
Neil leaned around Noah and glared at her. “And you just challenged this guy to let Noah fight one of his people? Holy crap, you really are insane, aren’t you?”
“No, she’s not,” Noah said. He was closely watching two men in a boxing ring who were sparring, and his eyes were following every move they made. “I see what they’re doing, and it’s simply logical. In order to get the maximum effect from your limbs in a fight, you need to minimize the amount of motion necessary to deliver the force you want to apply. It isn’t necessary to swing your whole arm to punch with a fist if you can deliver the same amount of force with an elbow or knee.”
Neal looked at the boxing ring, then back to Noah. He started to speak, but Marco interrupted him.
“Boss, I got to agree with the kid. You get in a ring with one of those guys, we’ll be scraping you up with a spoon.”
“Well, don’t worry about it,” Jenny said. “I sincerely doubt our friend Pak is going to accept the challenge from some farang bitch who walks in off the street, no matter how big her fighter seems to be. All I’m really trying to do is get his attention, and if he’s like a lot of Thais I’ve known, failing to come out and speak with me would be similar to a Japanese losing face. Hush, here comes the messenger.”
The man they had spoken to ran back up to Jenny and bowed respectfully, then looked her in the eye. “Mr. Pak, he says please come to his office.” He turned and started walking away, expecting them to follow.
They did so, and a moment later they were ushered into a large and luxurious office room. Pak was sitting behind the desk, and the expression on his face indicated that he was not feeling amused.
“Which of these children is your fighter?” Pak asked.
Jenny pointed at Noah. “This is him,” she said. “I’m new in the area, but I know a champion when I see one, and this is the next one. Do you have anyone who can fight in his class? I’m curious to see how long one of yours can stay in the ring with mine.”
A smile began slowly to spread across Pak’s face, and then he began to laugh. “You are all Americans,” he said, “farangs. This is the first time any group of Americans has entered my arena, and the timing of your arrival leads me to think that scheduling a match is not what you genuinely have in mind.”
Jenny smiled and looked inquisitive. “Oh, really? And what do you think my real reason might be for coming to see you?”
“I believe it may have something to do with certain unfortunate events that took place late last night,” Pak replied, “on a certain island not far from here. Am I correct? Please respect me enough to be honest. And do not expect me to be frightened, even though I see that you and your men are armed. There are more than two-dozen of my trainees in the building, and I have already told my assistants to alert them. If you attempt to harm me in any way, none of you will make it out of this place alive.”
Jenny laughed delightedly, and leaned forward to put her hands on the edge of Pak’s desk. “You are indeed correct,” she said. “I’m afraid we paid a visit to your friends on that island last night in search of a friend of our own. Unfortunately, we did not find her, but one of your men was extremely happy to tell us that you should be able to provide us with information about where she’s gone.”
Pak leaned back and folded his hands over his stomach. “Why would you believe that I would know anything about your friend?”
“Oh, did I leave that part out? You see, your man was good enough to tell me that he saw you sell our friend to someone else. Now, where we come from, people don’t get bought and sold, so that kind of bothers us. We can settle this whole thing in a hurry though, if you’ll just tell us who bought her, and where she was taken.”
Pak cocked his head to one side and looked at her, then looked at the men with her. “Ah,” he said, “you must refer to the little blonde flower. I am so sorry, but it is with great regret that I must tell you that your friend is no longer among the living.”
Neil surged forward suddenly, and the little Uzi appeared in his hand as if by magic. “You’re a liar,” he screamed. “Now tell us where she is, or I’ll blow your ass away!”
Pak grinned at him. “You may kill me if you wish,” he said, “but it will not change the fact that the little flower has indeed withered. It will also only bring on your own death, for my men are standing outside this room, prepared to kill each and every one of you unless I call them off.” He continued to stare into Neil’s eyes, and the young man’s resolve began to waver. After a moment, he lowered the gun and stepped back behind Noah once again.
Noah’s expression had not changed, and no one standing nearby would have thought Pak’s words had any effect on him, but something inside Noah snapped with a crack as loud as thunder. For a split second, he wondered where he had heard—felt—that sound before, and then he realized that it was on the day, when he was only a child, that his father had killed his mother and then himself. Whatever emotion had been trying to come back to life in Noah Wolf was suddenly dragged to a precipice, and was teetering on the edge.
Jenny looked at Neil and smiled, then turned back to Pak. “Let’s just say I find it hard to believe you,” she said. “If you say she’s dead, tell me how she died.”
“She tried to attack one of my men, and he took exception to it. Unfortunately, he does not know his own strength. The kick he gave to her head, I am afraid, proved to be fatal.”
Neil suddenly began to cry, tears streaming down his face. Noah glanced at him, but then turned back to face Pak. “Where’s her body?” he asked.
Pak spread his hands. “When one of these girls dies, she is cremated. Her ashes are then placed in a beautiful garden, so that her spirit may enjoy beauty until it is time for her to be reborn.”
Noah stood there for a moment, then cocked his head slightly to one side. “If she died yesterday, would she be cremated already?”
“But of course she would,” Pak said. “She would have no family to mourn her, no friends to attend a funeral; there is no point in delay. She was taken to the monks for cremation early this morning, and they were grateful for the gifts we gave them in return for the service.”
Jenny looked at Noah and raised an eyebrow, but h
e didn’t give her any response. She turned back to Pak. “We are prepared to kill you, and then try to fight our way out of here,” she said, “but personally, I prefer to do things the easy way. If you would take us to her ashes, we could be on our way, and you would not need to see us again.”
Pak looked her in the eye. “Is this a genuine offer?” he asked. “I would be willing to avoid the bloodshed, if it is.”
Jenny nodded. “It’s genuine,” she said. “Take us to proof that she is dead, and we will be on our way.”
Pak slowly rose from his chair, and nodded his head. “Follow me,” he said, and walked out the door into the gym. A dozen of his trainees stepped back, each of them obviously prepared to fight, but Pak waved a hand and they all walked away.
They followed him out a back door of the building, and several of the trainees followed them as they walked down the long alley to a small temple surrounded by trees and bushes. A monk was sitting outside the temple, and looked up at Pak with a smile.
Pak spoke in Thai, and the monk instantly rose and went inside. A moment later, he returned with another monk who looked at Pak and said, “Yes, old friend?”
“These people were friends of the little flower who passed from the earth,” Pak said. “Can you show them to her ashes?”
“Indeed,” the monk said, bowing to him. He looked at the Americans and smiled. “If you would come this way, please.”
They followed him around the temple to a small garden, where a number of monks were sitting in poses of meditation and prayer. They were led past them all, to a small flower garden, and the monk turned to them. “We spread her ashes here,” he said softly, “and to commemorate her life, we have taken some of her hair and strewn it among the petals.”
He pointed down, and Noah saw a lock of blonde hair lying among the flowers. It appeared to be fresh and new, and he saw that it was exactly the color of Sarah’s hair.
He stared at it for a moment, and then turned and started walking back the way they had come. Jenny and the others watched him for a moment, and then hurried to catch up to him.
They returned to the hotel without any of them speaking, and Noah began packing. He called Darryl Knapp and told him to come and pick up the equipment, then told Neil and Marco to get ready to return home.
Neil grabbed his arm. “Noah, we can’t…”
“The hair I saw was Sarah’s,” Noah said. “The way it was curled is from her twirling it whenever she gets frustrated with me.”
“But, but maybe they only clipped it off her and planted it there,” Neil sputtered, but Noah put a hand on his shoulder and stopped him.
“Neil, I can’t imagine they’d go to such an elaborate length as that. How would they know we’d come asking about her? Why would they bother setting this up at all?”
“But…”
“Let’s go home, Neil,” Noah said. “We won’t forget her, but there’s nothing more we can do here.”
Neil walked away, and Jenny came to Noah. “I don’t get it,” she said. “You walked away and left Pak alive. If you honestly believe that Sarah is dead, why would you do that?”
Noah looked at her for a long moment, then shrugged his shoulders. “More violence isn’t going to bring her back,” he said. “I’ll just save it for the next mission.”
She leaned her head to the left and stared at him for a few more seconds, then shook her head and walked away. Noah watched her go, before looking around at all the members of the two teams that were gathered in the room.
Which one of you is the traitor? Noah asked himself silently.
BOOK 6
BLACK SHEEP
“I am a Wolf: It is in my nature to be kind, gentle and loving. But know this: When it comes to matters of protecting my friends, my family, and my heart. Do not trifle with me. For I'm also the most powerful and relentless creature you will ever know.”
PROLOGUE
Noah Wolf packed his things while Neil and Marco prepared their own. The three of them spoke only when it was absolutely necessary, and usually in sentences of fewer than five words. Sarah’s loss was weighing heavily on them all, and none of them, not even Marco, wanted to make it seem more real by talking about it.
There was a knock on the door and Neil turned to open it. Jenny was standing there, her own team behind her with their luggage.
“You guys about ready?” she asked. “I don’t think I can stand this place much longer.”
“Another minute,” Noah said. “Our flight doesn’t leave for a few hours, there’s not exactly a rush to get to the airport. I was thinking about grabbing some lunch on the way.”
Neil scoffed. “Geez,” he said, “are you serious? Damn, Noah, even I can’t think about food right now. Sarah’s gone,” he choked out, “doesn’t that affect you at all?”
Noah looked at him, but his expression remained stoic. “There’s a hole in my world,” he said. He turned back to Jenny. “We’ll be ready in five minutes. You guys can go on with the rental car, we’ll meet you at the airport and get some lunch at one of the restaurants there.”
Jenny nodded and turned away without a word. The other three men followed her as Neil closed the door again. He stood there with his back to Noah for a moment, then released the doorknob and turned around.
“Look, Noah,” he said haltingly, “I’m sorry about that. Maybe you don’t feel things the way we do, but I know how important Sarah was to you. I shouldn’t have said that, and I really do apologize.”
“Let it go,” Noah said. “We each have to deal with the reality in front of us. That’s how life works, remember?”
They finished packing and went down to check out of the hotel, then Marco chose a taxi at random. The car was small, and the driver used a bungee cord to hold the trunk closed over their luggage as they got into it. A moment later, they were on the way to the airport.
Noah was in the front seat with Marco behind him, and Neil was behind the driver. He watched Noah as the car rolled along, noticing how the big man watched the city passing by. There was something in Noah’s demeanor that Neil felt was different, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.
* * * * *
Mr. Pak watched the Americans walk away, then turned to the monk.
“Did they believe you?” he asked.
The monk met his gaze. “The cold one recognized the locks of hair. Strewn among the ashes, they imply that we honored her according to our customs.”
Pak nodded solemnly. “Agreed. I suspect that if you were doubted, both of us would soon be prepared for our own burials. The cold one, as you called him, is an American assassin, as is the woman. The lives of monks and businessmen would mean little to them.”
He turned and left the temple, returning to the gym. There was no sign that the Americans had stopped there, so he went back into his office and relaxed. Lom, his most trusted man, stepped inside and bowed respectfully to him.
“They are gone,” Pak said. “Prepare the girl for her journey. I want her out of the country before midnight.”
Lom bowed once again and walked out of the room. Now in his fifties and showing the thinning that comes to an aging athlete, he had once been among the most respected of Muay Thai trainers. He passed through the parting sea of fighters and students that crowded the gym as he made his way to a door at the rear, then opened it and stepped through, descending the stairs into the basement. One of the many students who revered him, one of the many who hoped to earn a place in Nay Thas by his side, sat on a chair beside yet another door and rose as Lom approached. Without a word, he opened the door and let his Master step through it.
The girl lay on the mat that had been placed on the floor, curled up on her side. Her head turned as Lom entered the room, but she only groaned when she saw that it was him again. He had been the one who had seemed to buy her on the island, and it had been he who had taken charge of her on the boat, lifted her from it and carried her like a lifeless doll to whatever excuse for a doctor they used. The wiz
ened physician had pronounced her alive, if somewhat bruised and with a mild concussion. She would live and could travel, and that was all that seemed to matter to these people.
“Can you stand?” Lom asked in perfect English.
“Screw you,” the girl said. A hand went to her head and stroked what remained of her hair. It was less than an inch long, and the filth of the mat had turned it from blonde to a dirty gray.
“I do not wish to hurt you,” Lom said. “If you will get up, I can see that you are fed and able to wash. You will be taking a journey this evening, and it is up to me to see that you are as comfortable as possible. I even have clean clothing for you.”
She rolled onto her back and simply looked up at him for several seconds, then extended a hand. Lom stared warily into her eyes for a moment, then carefully reached out and took it in his own to help her to her feet.
She was not quite standing when she suddenly yanked him forward and threw a kick at his head, but he blocked it easily with an elbow, then caught her ankle in his hand. He had expected it, of course; she was a captured American agent and would be seeking any opportunity to gain the upper hand, even for a moment. Thrown off balance, she fell back onto the mat on her backside and his foot stopped barely short of crushing her throat.
“Men and women who have trained for years in Muay Thai are unable to successfully attack me,” he said calmly. “Whatever training you have received, it will not be sufficient to allow you to overcome me. Please do not attempt it again, for I was speaking truth when I said I do not wish to hurt you.”
She glared up at him, but when he pulled on her hand again she got to her feet. When he stepped aside and pointed toward the door, she shuffled slowly through it, favoring her right hip. The rip in the pants she was wearing allowed Lom to see the bruise that had spread on it, and he resolved to punish the fool who had damaged the girl. The entire party had been warned that she was of great value; there was no excuse for the condition she had been in when they had brought her to him. The old physician had said she suffered no permanent or serious injury, but valuable property must be handled with care. That fool would be an example to the rest, so that such problems could be avoided in the future.