Gina Takes Bangkok (The Femme Vendettas)

by S. M. Stelmack

  “Here, it’s a job. And like every job, it’s got its good points and its bad points, and if the bad starts outweighing the good, you leave it.”

  Her phone sounded, and this one was repeated from before. Ryota. “He’s coming out.” No sooner did she say it then out he came and crossed the street.

  “Only two bouncers inside the door. No guards or cameras from what I can see.”

  “What about our man?” Kannon asked.

  “He’s there. And out in the open.” Ryota’s eyes widened. “He’s big. Very big.”

  Which meant it would be a bitch to get him. “Get Darae. Have her pull up front.”

  “Got it.” Gina was already tapping on her phone. From her unsmiling expression it was hard to believe that one minute ago she was flirting with him. Would she switch back to party mode once they were inside the club, get distracted and get hurt?

  “You need to know, Gina, that what we’re doing now is something I normally take weeks to plan. Ryota and I can do this because it’s what we’re trained for. You go in there, the plan doesn’t change. It’ll still be to get Ek. Me, Ryota, we can’t be saving you, too.”

  Gina lifted her bottle and drained it. “Lucky for you, then,” she said, cracking a huge grin, “that I don’t need saving.”

  Triple 9 was enough to make Gina seriously think that her days as a party girl were over. The club itself was accessed down metal spiraling stairs that opened out into a long concrete basement. She, along with Kannon and Ryota, were immediately drenched in scarlet light that transformed them into altered beings, an effect that she’d once thought cool but then again that was when she’d been the age of its present occupants. The place was packed wall-to-wall with half-naked new adults, bumping and grinding to the deafening beat of rap gone bad.

  She could’ve tolerated the bad music and the worse fashion, if the people were having fun. It was nothing but sneers and glares and droopy eyes. Whatever drugs they were on, it wasn’t happy pills.

  Kannon took her hand and jerked it, and she followed his gaze across the room. Lwin was right. There was no mistaking Ek Chouen.

  He towered over everyone else in the club, way bigger than Kannon, like a circus freak or something that ought to be in a cage. In the pulsating light, she could make out his long, caveman hair, the same cryptic symbols cut into his forehead as the berserker who’d attacked her on the yacht. How the hell they were ever going to take this monster was beyond her.

  But apparently Kannon had a plan. He signaled to them that he was going to get closer, and with a frown at her, that she and Ryota were to stay. Why he would go on alone was beyond her, though now was not the time to draw attention by kicking up a fuss, so she let Ryota guide her to a concrete pillar they slid behind as Kannon edged through the press of bodies toward Ek.

  He stood by the billiard tables at the back of the establishment, observing a skanky pool-shark ply her trade amidst the boozy male clientele. She seemed oblivious to Ek, focused on relieving her playmates of their money. Gina could see that was a mistake. From the look in the sorcerer’s cold, dead eyes, unless someone intervened, odds were good that the little shark would be belly up by dawn.

  Ek didn’t have any bodyguards. Perhaps given his size he figured he didn’t need them. But Kannon moved as quietly and carefully as a stalking tiger, staying out of Ek’s line of sight as he circled around behind him, till at last he was an arm’s length away.

  Gina bit her lip as Kannon slid a powerful taser from his jacket pocket, and with a sharp thrust he pressed the crackling tip straight into the base of the giant’s spine. Ek’s body spasmed. Instead of the giant’s legs going out from under him as Gina had expected, the huge man rounded on Kannon, shark-like gaze locking onto his attacker.

  “Oh fuck,” Gina gasped.

  Kannon tried jabbing the taser straight for Ek’s chest. His opponent caught the crackling weapon in mid-strike with one hand, the other reaching for Kannon’s neck. To her relief Kannon ducked, simultaneously trying to twist the taser free, but the device snapped with a flash of sparks, setting fire to Ek’s sleeve.

  Ek snarled, kicking out at Kannon as he tore off the burning shirt, revealing a heavily muscled torso crisscrossed with jagged scars, and seeing the opening, Kannon attacked.

  Blocking Ek’s kick, Kannon got in close and personal, throwing everything he had into a blinding volley of punches almost too fast for Gina to follow. Gut, solar plexus, throat, jaw, face—five perfectly aimed punches in less than two seconds. She smiled at the onslaught Kannon was delivering, but it vanished.

  Roaring with fury, the bloodied giant backhanded Kannon like a child, sending him reeling into the crowd, eliciting panicked cries and curses. At least the party-goers had a reason to be unhappy now. Ek lumbered forward with the power of an angry bear, slapping aside people like they were made of paper, then grabbed Kannon by the front of his suit.

  Gina cried out as Kannon was hoisted into the air, his head connecting with the concrete ceiling, then thrown into a new tangle of bodies, all struggling and squirming to avoid the fight.

  Ek raised a massive foot above Kannon, and Gina’s heart stopped. Kannon might be numb to pain, but she felt it for him, a sick sensation of panic roiling through her core. Move!

  At the last second, Kannon rolled aside. The party-goer pinned beneath him wasn’t so lucky, his ribs snapping like matchsticks as Ek’s foot connected like a sledge-hammer. Kannon retaliated with a punch at the one place guaranteed to hurt any male.

  Ek stumbled back, as Kannon staggered to his feet, blood trickling down his face. How he was still alive, let alone conscious, was beyond Gina. One thing was clear—there was no way Kannon could take the monster on his own.

  “Ryota! Help him!” she ordered, and Kannon’s apprentice obeyed.

  Ek snarled, thick muscles flexing like coiled pythons, and again he came at Kannon, massive hands curled into claws. Ryota burst from the crowd, throwing a series of long, sweeping kicks to Ek’s legs, trying to disable the juggernaut while keeping his distance. The beast reached for Ryota, who gracefully slid away, making use of his lanky frame to stay quick and mobile even as he continued harrying the monster.

  It was obvious to Gina that Ryota wasn’t doing much damage, but now it was two on one, and Kannon joined in with his own powerful strikes, dodging and weaving to avoid the counterattacks.

  Between the two of them, it should have been easy defeating one opponent, except the rakshasa was exactly as Lwin had warned. Ek turned his back on Ryota, ignoring the weaker enemy to press the attack on Kannon. Absorbing a crushing blow to the face, Ek gripped Kannon by the arm, yanking him forward and bringing up his knee.

  Kannon was slammed in the gut with enough force to snap the spine of a lesser man, and Gina’s own stomach clenched in sympathy. Now Ek’s massive hands were on his throat, crushing the life out of him, even though Ryota had leapt on the giant’s back and locked his arm around Ek’s thick neck in a chokehold.

  Gina was casting about for some way to help when a rear door crashed open, and a group of Ek’s clan mates started shoving their way through the crowd. Kannon and Ryota were already fighting for their lives—how could they hope to survive now?

  She squeezed through the crowd, desperate to do something—anything—to help. Kannon began punching at Ek’s elbows to break the death-grip even as Ryota struggled to cut off their enemy’s breath.

  Dark blood seeped from Ek’s broken nose and split lips, his huge body trembling with effort to finish Kannon off, but with one final punch Gina heard a wet snap, so loud it pierced even the blast of the music and cries of the crowd. For a terrifying second, she thought it was Kannon’s neck, then Ek’s left elbow bent at an unnatural angle and the brute released him with a howl of agony.

  With a spin, Ek threw Ryota from him, puffing and snarling, cradling his dislocated elbow.

  Spitting blood, Kannon had readied himself for another round when Gina reached his side. “We have to get out of here! T
here are more of them on the way!”

  Kannon glanced over his shoulder and saw what she’d seen. From the back of the club a trio of Ek’s clan members were almost through the crowd, machetes in hand, eyes blazing. Kannon flashed a grim look at Ek, and Gina was scared he’d go another round. She seized his hand at the same time he took hold of hers.

  “Run!”

  She didn’t need to be told twice.

  The three of them rammed their way through the club, and tore up the stairwell seconds ahead of their pursuers. They burst out the door, and straight into the open back of Darae’s van.

  As they pulled out into traffic, Ryota fell back against the side panel. “That guy...he was pretty tough.”

  Kannon wiped blood from his face. “Next time we’ll take him.”

  Gina rolled her eyes.

  Kannon laid paralyzed on the table at The Golden Geisha, a massage parlor owned by Vincenzo Zaffini. His wounds didn’t account for his immobility as much as having Gina’s mouth nearly pressed to his. As she dabbed and stitched a gash on his head, he watched from the corner of his eye while she licked, bit, nibbled, pouted, twitched, did everything to her lips except apply them to his.

  His self-control was about to snap when she pulled herself out of kissing range and inspected her handiwork, her fingers skimming cool and quick along the cut. “Lucky your skull’s so thick. Anybody else’s brains would be stuck to the ceiling at Triple 9 right now. How’s the rest of you feeling?”

  “Fine.”

  “Are you sure? You’ve got these dark red bruises all along here”—her fingers stroked his neck—“and here”—her fingers played over his stomach—“not to mention the ones I know are on your legs but you’re too ornery to drop your pants for me to check.” She cupped her hand over his right thigh. “We should get a proper doctor. We’ve got one on retainer, 24/7. You could have a concussion or internal bleeding. You should be at a hospital not a safe house.”

  And you should be at home in my bed. The words nearly flew from his mouth. Kannon rubbed the back of his neck. “My head and guts got knocked around. That’s all. I’m fine.”

  “And how would you know?”

  He forced himself to sit up, swinging his legs off the table. “I’ve had concussions and internal bleeding before.” He eased himself to the floor, the cool tile a balm on his bare feet. “This is nothing a little time won’t heal.”

  She chewed on her lip, her arms crossed, her hair twisted every which way. A real picture of worry. He stood there with no idea what to do. The only other person who cared about his safety was Zoe, and she had only a faint notion of what he did. His wife had been even more clueless. On the rare occasions he got injured, he’d simply not come home until the bruises faded. She’d once asked him if he was having an affair, which he vehemently and truthfully denied. She accepted the answer, as she did with everything he told her.

  There was no dodging the bullet with Gina. He wanted to date her because she knew the truth about him but that came with a price: her fear. Her bravery was what set her apart, and his reckless need to end the business tonight had endangered her and the chance to rescue Alak Montri.

  He looked into her soft brown eyes. “I’m sorry, Gina. I played it wrong tonight. I got overconfident, impatient. Now the rakshasa will be on high alert. And without a hostage, we’ll have to come up with a new angle to find Wakai. I messed up.”

  Gina stared as if he’d announced his candidacy for US president. “Did you just apologize?”

  The monkey was mocking him. At least, it meant she wasn’t worrying. “I do from time to time, you know.”

  “When? When was the last time you apologized?”

  Up to now, there only ever was one other person. “To my daughter. Last month. Bawled her out for not calling me but the phone had gone dead because I forgot to charge it like she asked me to.”

  The mockery turned to genuine indignation. “Crap, Kannon. That’s serious. No one should be without a functional phone. I would’ve made you do push-ups, too.”

  “I did.”

  “Of course, you would’ve.” Gina gusted out her breath in a half-laugh. “Listen, don’t beat yourself up about it.” She made a face at her choice of words. “I’m just glad you guys didn’t get yourselves killed.”

  “Or you.”

  She quirked a smile. “Yeah, imagine if the great Kannon Takahama lost one boss and got the other one wasted.”

  There was a smear of blood on her glittery dress. His blood, probably from when she was stitching him up. If Ek could do this to him—. “Both times because they wouldn’t take my advice.”

  She looked ready to shoot off a retort, then slowed down. “Wait. You knew Montri was in trouble?”

  “I knew John Wakai was up to something. His patterns were off. Suddenly leaving his place, not showing up at his office. I advised Alak Montri to take along extra security if I couldn’t be with him. He asked why, but I wasn’t prepared to tell him.”

  Gina nodded. “No one likes a whistleblower, especially one with no proof.”

  “Yes.”

  “Only he didn’t listen,” she concluded.

  “I expected no less.” He couldn’t keep the frustration out of his voice. Worse, the edge of disrespect. And, of course, Gina heard it.

  She sidled closer, scented with perfume and his blood. He held up his hand. “Don’t. All I will say is that Dr. Chai’s opinion of my boss is not unique among the gangs. I warn you, don’t go making trouble. Nobody wants it.”

  She opened her mouth and again he cut her off. “How about we get you back to the boat?”

  She crossed her arms, this time in annoyance. “If you’ll let me get a word in edgewise, it’s too late. Darae’s gone with Ryota, and I don’t particularly want anybody moving around the city at this time of night. We’re safe here. Daddy’s got bolt holes like these all over the place, stocked up for exactly these kinds of emergencies. How about we go to bed and get an early start?”

  It was a good idea. Except with Gina, there’d be a catch. Sure enough, she led him upstairs to a bedroom straight from a porn set. Lit in bright neon blue, the place featured a mirrored ceiling, vivid psychedelically painted walls, pink leopard-patterned carpeting and a huge, intense green and anatomically correct teddy bear. At the center of it all was a round king-sized bed, piled high with plush violet and yellow pillows.

  “I think I’m going to need my sunglasses,” said Kannon.

  Gina giggled. “This place specializes in ménages and group sex. Check the cupboards for more bedding. I’m going to clean up a bit.”

  She disappeared into the bathroom, leaving him to turn down a sex bed. He wondered what she was going to wear since her dress was ruined. She’d better have something on because he was already frustrated enough. Lying beside her, too hurt to do what should be done to a beautiful woman naked in a bed built for orgies, would kill him.

  When he heard her come out of the bathroom, he was in bed covered to his neck in a pink sheet, his back to her, with lights out except for one so she’d not stumble. Another sheet and pillow was over—way over—on the other side of the bed. He’d wedged the teddy bear between them.

  Teddy was swept away and hit the floor with a thud. Then, the whisper of sheets as she slipped in beside him. Go to sleep, Gina. Turn off the light and go to sleep.

  There was the airy lift of his sheet and a single cool finger pressed to his back. “Who’s this you carry around?”

  She never did what he told her to do. Did he really think she’d follow an unspoken command? “A baku.”

  “A baku?”

  “It’s from Japanese mythology. Kind of a creature that protects people against evil. Especially children. They call it a nightmare eater.”

  Her finger glided over his upper back where the head was. “I see. And how did he come to ride around on your back?”

  In an effort to block out his circumstances, he talked. “All Yakuza get tattoos. Used to be we weren’t accepte
d in Japan, so we’d get them as a sign that we wouldn’t bend to society’s rules and norms. But they’re more than just that. They hold a meaning or tell a story.”

  “And what does this baku say about you?”

  Even in the near dark, even with his back to her, he had to push hard to get out the next words. “That I was young and stupid when I got them. My father used to tell me that we Yakuza were once lordless samurai back in medieval times. That it was we who defended the cities and towns against marauders that terrorized the countryside. All lies. The truth is, we were the bandits. We’ve always been thugs and criminals. Nothing more.”

  Her one finger became her hand flat and solid between his shoulder blades. “What difference does it make what people did or didn’t do centuries ago? What matters is what we do now.”

  “You telling me the past doesn’t define us?”

  “It doesn’t need to.”

  “I think we also define one another,” he replied. “To Vincenzo, I’m a weapon. To Ryota, a teacher. To Zoe, a father. Without them I’m none of those things. In their own ways they define me, and I define them.”

  With one last long glide along the center of his back, her hand withdrew and he detected the faint brush of its retreat along the sheets. The loss of her touch wasn’t the relief he thought it would be.

  “Wow. I didn’t know I was dating a philosopher.”

  “We haven’t gone on a date yet.”

  “And yet, here we are on a bed where hundreds have had wild sex.”

  “Gina, I can’t—”

  The sheets rustled and sighed as she adjusted her position. “Neither can I. You’re safe from any more mauling tonight. Sleep, baku.”

  He couldn’t. He listened as her breathing eased into the light and even pattern of restful sleep. First, there’d been his wife. Then, his daughter. And now, Gina Zaffini. The third person in his life he’d die for. He’d failed with his wife. So far, so good with his daughter, if only because he’d removed her from the situation. And with this one lying next to him, trusting that there’d be a morning, trusting that he’d keep her safe—he fitted his hand around the gun under the pillow beside him.