Gina Takes Bangkok (The Femme Vendettas)

by S. M. Stelmack

“Kannon’s a friend of mine,” she asserted. “As are several of the most powerful gang leaders in Bangkok. And that makes me believe that we can both still get what we want. Let’s cut a deal, shall we?”

  He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. No sooner did he seem to have control than it was snatched away from him. Would Alak have truly been so ruthless? Could his daughter have meant so little to him? Perhaps in his desperation to protect Victoria, he’d projected too much of himself onto his old boss, expecting the same kind of familial devotion. He remembered what Montri had said while on his knees in Wakai’s apartment, remembered Montri’s ruthless observance of his principles. Wakai loved Victoria, and had mistakenly believed that his old boss was capable of the emotion, too. What would happen when Ek found out? He eyed the grisly displays, the sight depicting any number of unpleasant possibilities.

  “Who else knows about this?”

  “Aside from you and I, only Kannon and a couple of trusted others,” she replied. “I know that this must upset your plans, Mr. Wakai, but I believe that we can still work together.”

  There was something about Gina Zaffini that made him want to believe. “And what makes you think that?”

  “Because I’m guessing our motives are similar. I want to protect Tasanee. You want to protect your sister. We’ve both done what we’ve had to do to keep our families safe.”

  “Then we’ve both got a major problem,” he said. “I’ve promised control of the city to the Cambodians. That’s the only reason they haven’t laid a finger on Tasanee so far. Without Alak, I don’t see how I’m going to deliver on that, so things aren’t looking very good for either of us at the moment.”

  “They’d have been a lot worse if I hadn’t stopped Montri before he declared war on you,” she countered. “He was ready to do exactly that at my father’s memorial service.”

  She was implying she’d saved his life, that therefore he owed her. He wasn’t playing that game. He was sticking to chess. “All you did was buy a little time. I left Alak alone this past week so that he could heal from his injuries and bury his friend.” This was partly true. The other part was he didn’t want to make the first move, in case it was the wrong one. “The Cambodians are already impatient with the delay.”

  “Then we’d best come up with a plan PDQ,” she said. “Otherwise we’re both going to wind up as dead as the people in that museum you’re in.”

  Wakai almost dropped his phone in shock. “How did you—?” Again, he answered his question, with a variation. “Your lover.”

  Her quick inhalation confirmed it. So, Kannon had developed a weakness, one who thought she could blackmail him. He let her prattle on. “Like I said, Kannon’s a friend of mine. And so are a lot of other dangerous people. If I’d wanted to harm you I could have easily done so. The fact that you’re still breathing is a show of goodwill. You’re a very smart man, Mr. Wakai. But I’m pretty smart myself. If we work together, I think we can both benefit.”

  There had to be a catch. “What about your father? Don’t you want vengeance?”

  “I want Tasanee back more. Can we meet?”

  How gracious of her to pretend he had a choice. “Where? When?”

  “How about at the museum café?” she replied. “Right now.”

  “Watch him. He’s what you call a smooth talker,” Kannon warned Gina as Wakai glided his wheelchair toward them in the café.

  Kannon sat beside her, Ryota stood nearby. She could feel hostility rise off both men. She took a sip of tea, though at the moment, she’d have preferred something stronger. Forget about cutting the tension with a knife. She’d need a chainsaw.

  Once, she’d sympathized with Wakai. It must suck to have a psycho for a sister. It must doubly suck to be confined to a wheelchair as a result of taking a bullet for your boss. And then to have the boss hunt you because you were trying to protect your sister from him.

  But she had not appreciated his jibe. Your lover. As if Kannon was a despicable choice. As if he were beneath her. How dare he? Smooth talker. Yeah, right. More like hypocritical, snobbish, conniving…underling.

  Kannon was watching her. She could see the direction of his eyes behind his glasses. He was worried that she was worried. She gave him a big smile and saw his lips twitch in response.

  Wakai came up to the table, his eyes flickering back and forth between them. The corners of his mouth pulled down in disgust. Let him look, let him draw whatever conclusion he wanted. “You have some kind of plan you want to discuss.”

  He made it sound as if he was doing her a favor. She knew it was all talk. Still…she reached over with her cup of tea and sloshed it over his crotch. Kannon sat up straighter. Wakai gripped the arms of his chair and glared at both of them. She waved a finger. “Attitude.”

  Wakai’s face went tight and he stayed quiet.

  “Now. I like to know a little bit about the people I do business with. Especially with one who double-crossed his boss.”

  “I didn’t want that,” Wakai burst out. He snapped his mouth shut but Gina rolled her hand for him to continue. “Alak found out about my sister. He did what he always did when he discovered one of his people had family who was his enemy. He offered me the chance to kill her myself. Given my service to him.” He gestured at his legs. “Cleanly. Humanely. If I didn’t, then he’d get him”—Wakai jerked his head at Kannon—“to kill us both. Simple as that. We both know how—inflexible he is.”

  Yes, didn’t she? “Why didn’t you just run? Why drag the whole city into this?”

  Head jerk to Kannon. “Again, because of him. There wasn’t anywhere I could have taken her that he wouldn’t have followed. And after Alak found out about my sister’s website—after he saw what she’d done to all those children—I knew he’d hunt the world for her.”

  “And how did Alak find out about it?” asked Gina.

  Wakai squirmed in his seat, whether from her question or his wet crotch, it was hard to tell. “Don’t know. Once he did, I didn’t have long to act. I did the only thing I could do and cut a deal with the Cambodians. They were the only ones with the muscle to protect Victoria and me, except they wanted a lot in return.”

  “They are allies of yours?”

  “Hardly. They were my sister’s friends, not mine. They kept such a low profile in Bangkok I didn’t even realize their numbers until Victoria told me.”

  Gina leaned forward. “So it was she that suggested you go to them for help?”

  Wakai snatched up napkins and patted himself, sopping up the tea puddled between his legs. Gina let him, though she could tell by the faint narrowing of Kannon’s right eye that he would’ve hurried things up. Wakai tossed the sodden napkins back on the table. “I know what you’re thinking. That she’s the one that leaked the website to Alak. That she orchestrated the whole thing to get me to help them.”

  “Sounds like what you were thinking, too,” Gina lobbed back.

  “I know Victoria. She’d never do that to me.”

  Was he really that naïve? “You’re saying the pedophile serial killer wouldn’t betray your trust?”

  “You don’t understand our relationship,” Wakai replied.

  Naïve or loyal to the point of stupidity. “I sure as hell don’t.”

  “Perhaps you should consider how many people your ‘friend’ here has killed over the years.” He cocked his head at Kannon. “I’m willing to wager Victoria’s tally is smaller. The only difference is that your hit-man only knocks people off after they’ve turned eighteen, so don’t preach morality to me. We’re all killers at this table.”

  Ah, there it was. There was the danger of Wakai’s words. He didn’t unbalance others with lies but with the truth. Yes, they were all killers, despite whatever distinctions she had hoped to make between them. Between people like her who were given no choice or Kannon who chose his victims or Victoria who enjoyed the killing, in the end the result was the same. People died. She felt Kannon slant a look at her. Like the time with Lw
in, he was carefully tracking their Thai conversation, monitoring her responses, all her nonverbal signals. She should hate herself for not being any better than Victoria. Then again, it also meant she was as good as Kannon. “I suppose we’ll have to agree to disagree on that point. Time’s short. Let’s get back to business.”

  Wakai gave a little smile. He thought he’d scored a point. “Let’s. I’m dying to hear what you’ve come up with.”

  Gina laced her fingers together on the table. “You and I both know that there was only two ways the gangs of this city could have been bullied into falling in line with the Cambodians. One would be if Montri seized control again and you used him as a puppet. The other is if your sister’s friends had the muscle to enforce their will.”

  Wakai nodded. “Correct. My plan with Alak apparently backfired, and the Cambodians don’t have enough resources to take the city.”

  “And since you can’t deliver on your promise it seems likely Ek’s going to kill you as well Tasanee,” Gina continued. “So you’re back to square one—make a preemptive strike and decapitate your enemy before he realizes his position.”

  Wakai gave her a wary look. “Only where would that leave Victoria and me? Defenseless.”

  “Not if you had an ally that could protect you,” Gina countered.

  “And why would you do that after I helped kill your father?”

  “Because you still have Tasanee to bargain with. She’s my sister, like Victoria is yours.”

  Wakai waved a dismissive hand. “Only she’s being held by Ek, not me. Besides, Victoria wouldn’t go along with it.”

  “Not even if she knew it was the only way to save your life?”

  Wakai hesitated, and Gina pressed the point. “Seems to me that if you’re as close as you say you are, she would. And if Ek and she are such good friends I bet she could easily rescue Tasanee, too. At this point, it’s the only viable option.” She paused and then conceded, “For all of us killers.”

  Wakai rubbed his chin. No doubt it was meant to convey thoughtfulness, but Gina was sure she could see something else in his eyes.

  Fear.

  She leaned back, crossed her arms, and waited.

  COMFORTABLE IN HER lounge chair, Victoria wormed out the last flecks of dried blood from under her fingernails with a cuticle trimmer. The boy from the fishing boat hadn’t disappointed her, but he’d had his vengeance—her fingertips were aching almost as much as the stump of her missing toe.

  A shadow fell across her, and looking up she saw that Wakai had wheeled out onto the penthouse’s balcony. “Try hydrogen peroxide,” he suggested.

  “Oh, you’re back,” she replied, setting down the trimmer. “Ek’s been trying to get hold of you.”

  “I blocked his calls while I was out.”

  Victoria sighed. “Why are you two always tormenting each other? He just wants to know when you’re going to get started with Montri.”

  “I told him I’ll handle it and I will.”

  Her brother’s voice was final, and she knew better than to argue the point. She pulled up her leg to pluck at the dressing over her mutilated toe. She couldn’t wait to change it so could check on the rate of healing. At least her accident had given her useful knowledge. “Fine. I’ll leave you to sort it out. Where did you go? I didn’t even hear you leave.”

  “The museum.”

  Ah. She had fond memories of that place. She and John alone together, while their pinch-faced bitch of a mother had dug dirt. “Haven’t been there in years.”

  “It’s still the same. Good place to go and think.”

  “Think about what?”

  “About you and me. About maybe taking this chance to get out of Bangkok. Maybe settle down somewhere else.”

  His face was set in a way that worried her. “Get out of...John, what are you talking about? Why would we leave now?”

  “I promised Ek the city. Now that he’s got it, why does he need me anymore? Why does he need you?”

  “He needs you for exactly the same reason Montri did. To keep things running.”

  “And what if I’m not interested in doing that?”

  No. He always turned the situation into one that he could control. She’d always let him think that because it suited them both. “John, this isn’t just a deal. I keep telling you, we’re family. And family hunts together. Mates together.”

  John’s body went solid, his face inscrutable. “So you love him?”

  Love was alien to the rakshasi, an abstract she no longer had to pretend at feeling. “I share blood with him. That’s why it’s so important that we all get along. Why we can’t up and leave.”

  Her brother sat there, holding her hand, his expression one of troubled contemplation. The silence was becoming uncomfortable when at last he spoke. “So be it. If we’re going to carry on with this operation, then I’d best get started. First, I want to see Tasanee. Make sure she’s being properly cared for. I wouldn’t trust Ek to water a houseplant.”

  Victoria shook her head. “Ek doesn’t want you knowing where she’s being kept. He’s afraid you’ll steal her like you did with Montri.”

  “So you’re keeping secrets from me?”

  Really, when would he understand that he wasn’t the alpha male? “If I tell you, Ek’s going to be upset with both of us and, besides, I promised him I wouldn’t. I know where she is, and I know she’s safe. Can’t you trust me on that?”

  “I suppose I’ll have to. If I’m going to be kept in the dark then I need you to do something for me right away.”

  “And what’s that?” she asked.

  “I want you to pick up a copy of today’s paper and go take a video of her holding it. I’m going to a meeting with Montri tonight, and I’ll need it.”

  Montri? That was progress. “I can do that. Will you tell Ek you’re seeing Montri? He wants to see action, and this’ll cheer him up.”

  Wakai smiled. “Deal.”

  She kissed him, a long, lingering goodbye. She’d been away from Ek’s people for a week now, and she was getting revved. She ended the kiss—it was always her who did—and reached for her crutch. “I’m going to change the dressing, and then I’ll go. Be back soon. “

  As soon as the elevator closed behind his sister, Wakai tapped on his phone.

  Jarun answered on the first ring.

  “She’s on her way,” he said. “Make sure you take it easy. If she finds out she’s being followed, then they’ll move the girl. There won’t be any second chances.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.”

  Though Wakai had trained himself to repress his emotions, even he couldn’t ignore the lump he felt in his throat. “Thank you so much for helping Victoria and me. I swear I’ll make it up to you.”

  “We’re brothers,” Jarun said. “I’m sorry I didn’t help you sooner. Now get yourself out of there. I’ll be in touch once I have her in a safe place.”

  “Just be careful.”

  “You know me,” Jarun replied, and disconnected.

  Wakai set aside his phone and wheeled to the elevator, relief rolling through him. If there was one person in the world he could still trust, it was Jarun.

  Tasanee pressed her feet to the rough brick wall of her cell as she gripped the chain, her slender legs quivering with effort, her body dripping with sweat, as she tried to pull it free from its anchor. Yet, she barely managed to loosen it. With a choked sob of frustration, she fell to the floor and kicked over the electric lantern that was her only source of light. She lay there, panting on the bare stone as bloated flies buzzed around her attracted to the scent of fear and pain and death.

  Swatting them away, her gaze drifted to the bloodied hook that hung from the ceiling on the other side of the chamber. Victoria hadn’t hurt her. Hadn’t so much as laid a finger on her. Instead she’d spent the previous night watching the horrors inflicted on the Burmese boy, felt the warm flecks of his blood splatter on her. She’d begged Victoria to stop, pleaded with her f
irst to let him go, and then to just let him die. The torture had gone on for hours—until finally, finally, the boy had expired and he was spared what Wakai’s sister had done to him, then.

  She’d wanted Ryota. His quiet voice and gentle touch. But it became too much to think of him and listen to the sounds from across the room, and she’d curled into a ball, clapped her hands over her ears and tried to block it all out.

  Beyond her cell, she heard a rusted metal door squeal open, and she dragged herself into a squat. She heard the click of Victoria’s crutch as the woman made her way down the stairs, then a voice spoke, deep and gravelly, infused with a rural Cambodian accent. “What are you doing here?”

  Then that low drippy sweet voice from last night’s nightmare. “Not happy to see me?”

  “Surprised to see you back so soon.”

  “John didn’t call you?”

  Tasanee heard the man spit. “No. He finally getting off his ass”—there was a mean chortle at the cruel joke—“and doing something?”

  “That’s why I’m here. Got to take a video of the brat. Proof to Montri she’s still in one piece. What are you doing here?”

  “What the fuck does it look like? Guarding. You sure you weren’t followed?”

  “I kept one eye on the rearview mirror the whole way here. Besides, the last couple of miles it’s open road. Nobody could have followed unless they were invisible.”

  The man grunted, apparently satisfied.

  “So you fed and watered her yet?”

  “She’s got a bottle in there. She didn’t want to eat anything.”

  After what she’d witnessed, Tasanee doubted she’d ever be hungry again.

  “Well, might as well get to work then. Don’t want her looking too skinny in the video.”

  Tasanee retreated to the corner of her large, airless cell, huddling there as she heard a heavy bolt pulled back. It opened to Victoria, her body scrubbed clean of blood, wrapped in an attractive amber sundress, perfume covering the stench of another’s agony which otherwise would have clung to her.