Thrilling Thirteen

by Ponzo, Gary

  “It should have been returned early this morning, but it wasn’t. I thought that was worth mentioning.”

  “Thanks. It is.” The wheels in her head began to spin while her stomach grew hollow. Something wasn’t right. House pulled out her phone and dialed Abby as she made her way over to Reilly. There wasn’t any answer.

  “Special Agent Reilly,” she called out, interrupting his spiel to the journalists, “you’re needed at the crime scene.”

  “That’s all for now. We’ll let you know when we have more information.”

  As soon as they were out of earshot from the reporters, Reilly whispered from the corner of his mouth, “Thanks for saving me there.”

  “Sir, I think we have a problem. An SFPD officer has just informed me that the van Detective Kang requisitioned to bring the bike here was never returned this morning.”

  “Shit!” Reilly grabbed another passing agent. “Agent Burns, you familiar with the effects guy we flew up here?”

  “Yeah, I helped coordinate his travel plans.”

  “Good. I want you to find out if he is in his hotel room, immediately.”

  “I don’t understand,” House said. “Why are you checking on the guy who made the head?”

  “Because he tagged along with them last night to finish prepping the head.”

  Reilly took a deep breath as he looked over the scene. Abby had asked if there should be backup, but they had both come to the conclusion that the operation was simple enough that they didn’t need any. I should have known better.

  “Were they supposed to check in after the drop?”

  “Only if for some reason they were unable to complete it,” Reilly answered. “I should have sent a team to watch them.”

  Agent Burns reappeared as he was getting off his mobile.

  “You have an answer for me?”

  “The room was empty, and the bed didn’t appear to have been slept in.”

  “Agent House, round up every available agent on site and meet me back here.”

  A few minutes later, House returned with six other agents. Of the bunch, she looked the most concerned and rightfully so. To her, Abby was more than just a coworker. Reilly reached over and gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze. “Hey, you didn’t put Abby on this case; I did. I don’t want you blaming yourself, okay?”

  House nodded as she worked to swallow the lump that had begun to lodge itself in the bottom of her throat.

  “Listen up. We have a situation where one of our own, a detective with the SFPD and a civilian have gone missing.” Reilly informed them of the details he had learned only minutes earlier. “I want a search perimeter established, starting right here in this square and branching out. Also, let’s get an APB on the van they used and have SFPD and the Highway Patrol monitor the roads and bridges out of the city. I want—”

  Reilly stopped and lifted his right foot. Beneath his shoe, he saw a thin, metal projectile about three inches long with red fletching at the end for stabilization.

  “What the hell…?”

  “If I’m not mistaken,” House said as she bent down and picked up the object, “that looks like a tranquilizer dart.”

  “Let’s get whatever is on the tip of it analyzed and hope we’re not too late.”

  Chapter 61

  Kang was staring ahead, contemplating their options, when a noise from Abby grabbed his attention. “Abby,” he called out. She opened her eyes for a brief second before closing them. He called out once more. This time, her eyes remained open, but her lids were heavy. “Over here. It’s me, Kyle.”

  Abby flopped her head toward him again. “Kyle… What’s going on?” she slurred.

  He noticed a thin trail of dried blood on her neck, partially covered by her hair. It only confirmed his earlier suspicions about them being drugged. A tranquilizer gun? It had to be. He didn’t recall hearing a noise or seeing anyone. One minute, he had focused on Abby as she tried to get Monte back into the van, and the next thing he knew, he had woken up tied to a chair.

  While Kang and Monte appeared to be recovering from the effects of the drug, Abby was having a much harder time. She appeared woozy and spoke sporadically without making much sense.

  Kang didn’t like their chances of survival and needed to quickly tilt the odds in their favor. He had been diligently working on loosening the knot that secured the rope around his wrists and had made significant progress. Just get one hand free. That’s it.

  Ten minutes had passed before he heard the scuffle of shoes outside the door and a key sliding into the lock. A beat later, the wooden door creaked open, and in walked three Chinese men. One was noticeably smaller than the others, but the intensity of his stare told Kang he was the leader. They were all dressed in black Kung Fu attire. The two tall men each had a sword strapped to their back, and one held a laptop under his arm.

  The small man stepped forward to within a few feet of Kang. He had a wry smile. “Detective, how are you feeling?”

  “Why are you holding us hostage?”

  The man spread his feet apart and cupped his hands in front of him. “Why do you ask a question you already know the answer to?”

  Kang’s brow narrowed. “Who are you?”

  The grin on the short man grew wider as he looked back briefly at his companions. “He wants to know who I am.” His followers chuckled. “I am the Black Mantis.”

  “So you are Quai Chan. I’ve been wanting to meet you for a very long time.”

  “Well, Detective Kang, your wish has been granted.” Quai began to pace the room slowly, methodically. “That show you put on in the square—very clever. What was its purpose?”

  Kang remained quiet. The more he allowed the man to talk, the more he would learn what they knew and what they wanted.

  “Your tongue is tied? I thought it was only your hands.” More laughter. He then snapped a finger, and the man holding the laptop moved forward. He flipped it open and tapped at the keyboard before turning it around.

  “I have live footage for you.” Quai pointed at the screen. The video showed a woman reporting on the very crime that he and Abby had staged earlier that morning. Kang took note of two things right away: the time stamp on the video—a little after eight in the morning—and the fact that the laptop had a Wi-Fi connection. The room they were in either wasn’t far from ground level or they were on ground level. Hundreds of tourists could be walking around just outside that door. That gave Kang hope.

  “They found a head,” Quai continued, “the head you left this morning. You remember doing that?”

  Kang looked at Monte. He had followed his orders and kept his mouth shut. He also did one better and avoided eye contact by keeping his head down.

  “What is it you want?” Kang asked.

  “Why did you put a head in a delivery container and leave it in our beautiful park—a park that men, women and children enjoy on a daily basis? Why would you do that? What prompted you? Did you want to scare people? I think you would have scared the children but not the men and women. That head wasn’t very good. Next time, find yourself a better looking head.”

  His laughing triggered more chuckles from the other two men. It also triggered a response from Monte.

  “What do you mean find a better looking head? That head is extremely lifelike.”

  “Monte!” Kang barked.

  Quai turned his attention to Monte. “I thought you were sleeping, but now, I realize you were too afraid to look at me.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I do know what I’m talking about. And that head is a piece of shit.”

  Monte shook his head and looked away but not before muttering an audible “Fuck you.”

  Kang couldn’t believe his ears.

  Quai’s eyebrows dipped before he reached behind his back and removed a pair of sais, spinning them around in each hand. The light from the bulb above flashed off the polished metal. Kang hadn’t noticed the weapon on Quai when he had f
irst entered the room, but he quickly saw that the tips were sharpened into deadly points. Before he could utter a word to calm Quai, he brought both arms down, driving the steel shafts into the back of Monte’s hands.

  No!

  Monte threw his head back and let go a long, screeching cry before peeking back at his now pinned hands. Blood seeped from his wounds and dripped from the arms of the chair. His eyes grew wide. His jaw fell open, allowing a strand of saliva to stretch from his mouth.

  He let out another cry. The brick wall multiplied its volume. Kang thought the worst had passed until Quai turned to one of his men, removed the larger sword from its sheath and spun around, all in one fell swoop.

  Suddenly, Monte went quiet. His legs shot straight out, remaining rigid. Everything moved so quickly; Kang felt one step behind the action. Quai raised the sword and placed it against the side of Monte’s head.

  Monte’s legs relaxed and dropped back to the ground. Kang suddenly knew why he was so calm. Tiny, red streams began to pour down the side of his neck. Quai then tapped Monte’s head with the blade, and Kang watched it fall from its perch and hit the floor with a thud—a clean cut.

  Chapter 62

  Back in the square, the command center for the fake crime scene had quickly been repurposed for a real crime. House and Reilly gathered around a small map of Chinatown.

  “What makes you so sure they’re still in Chinatown?” Reilly asked.

  “The game is played in the city, and a lot of it ties back to Chinatown. I can’t say for sure, but if we have to go on a hunch, that’s a pretty good one. Clearly, their cover was blown. How? When? Most likely back at Treasure Island. Plus, all the crimes took place in the city, with the exception of the Taylor girl found on Mount Tamalpais.”

  “Okay, I’m biting, but let me ask you one thing: why didn’t they make a move on our decoys at Treasure Island? Why wait?”

  “I think what happened speaks as your answer. Even we didn’t know they were missing since three thirty this morning. Whoever is behind this is smart and calculating. They bided their time, and it paid off.”

  “Still, it makes no sense to abduct an FBI agent, a detective with the SFPD, a civilian and hold them as potential hostages. What did they have to gain? They could have disabled the app, rendering it useless instead,” Reilly pointed out.

  “That’s what worries me,” House said. She rested her hands on her hips. “That seems like the best solution, but we’re not necessarily dealing with sound individuals here. The app was the only live connection we had to whomever was behind it. There’s more to it and we’re not seeing it.”

  “You think they’re…”

  “What, dead?” House shrugged and picked at her fingernails—a nervous habit. “Well, I can’t see them wanting any sort of exchange out of it. My best guess is that they wanted to find out what Abby and Kyle knew about the app.”

  House squinted in the sun that had started to poke through the clouds. She and Reilly both knew what that meant. Either they would be performing a rescue operation or a recovery. And they were running out of time for a rescue.

  House’s phone rang.

  “House here. I see… Yes... And the effects?... Was that all? ...Okay.”

  Reilly eyed House, looking for an answer.

  “That was the lab. They found traces of xylazine on the dart. It’s a horse tranquillizer, but drug addicts use it to get high. It turns people into walking zombies, barely mobile and semi-conscious. A large dose can kill a person.”

  “How long does it last?”

  “Two to three hours, maybe longer. Depends on the dosage.”

  “That bought us some time. They can’t question them in that state.”

  “Since they were able to stage the crime scene, they were probably apprehended shortly after. Maybe at four?”

  Reilly nodded. “Sounds about right. They could have been in a position to talk by seven this morning.” He looked down at this watch. “It’s eight thirty. They might still be alive.”

  “Sir, I think we’re better off concentrating all our efforts within the Chinatown area. It’s our best chance.”

  Reilly took a moment to think over House’s suggestion. “Okay. Redirect every man we have available and the SFPD to Chinatown, but leave Highway Patrol at the road blocks.”

  “Got it,” she said before taking off.

  Reilly let out a soft breath. Man, I hope you’re right.

  Chapter 63

  Quai and his men left shortly after decapitating Monte. The stale air in the room quickly acquired a metallic overture. A pool of blood surrounded his chair, some of it inching its way closer to Kang’s left foot.

  By then, Abby could talk, though sometimes incoherently. She didn’t look to have complete control of her body, and fell in and out of her catatonic state, but at least she was experiencing periods of normalcy. However, she did seem to be aware of their situation, as Kang had done his best to explain to her what had happened.

  With Quai gone, he made gains on loosening the knot, ignoring the burn from the rope that rubbed his wrists raw. He was close to freeing his hands.

  Once again, Kang heard shuffling outside the door and a key inside the lock. He knew who to expect. The door swung open, and Quai stood there, alone.

  Dumb move, asshole. Kang was a stone. His body language implied nothing and his facial expression remained flat.

  Quai shook his head as he slowly walked toward Kang. “Your friend here talked too much and met his fate. What do you think will happen to you for not answering me?”

  Kang couldn’t resist. “You and Chinatown are not above the law.”

  The man pointed at his chest in wonderment. “I see you many times in Chinatown. Why you don’t come for me if I am not above the law?”

  He knows me from before? How?

  “You’re wondering how I know you? I know everything that happens here.”

  Keep deflecting the conversation. Buy yourself time, Kang told himself. “I didn’t know you were such a big fan.” Kang flashed a smile, his words pleasant. “When this is all done, I’ll send you an autographed photo.”

  Quai threw his head back and let out a bellowing laugh. When he regained his composure, he pointed at Kang. “You a very funny man. It’s good to have a sense of humor, even in a situation like this.”

  Right then, the door opened, and another man entered, pushing a metal cart that had a number of surgical and carpentry tools on it.

  “I wondered when you would resort to the old cliché of using torture,” Kang mocked. “I mean, don’t all evil men do this, failing to get what they want from their captors through thoughtful discussion? It’s like a bad action movie taking place right before my eyes.”

  Again, the small man allowed himself to succumb to laughter—a staccato shrill this time that started on a high note and ended with a few coughs. The man with the cart joined in, nervous at first, wanting to be sure his boss found the joke funny. He then positioned the cart between Kang and Abby.

  “Ah, your agent friend is coherent.”

  Kang looked to his left and saw Abby staring at the man. She blinked a lot but she looked to have her senses back. Maybe she had shaken off the remaining effects of the drug.

  “We almost killed her up at the park. She’s much smaller than I had anticipated,” he said, shaking his head. He walked over to Abby. “I thought she was the leader, but it turns out you are the one who does the talking.”

  Kang smiled. You don’t know Abby.

  Quai stared into Abby’s eyes. “Anybody home? Hello?” He turned back to Kang. “I think we lost her again.”

  Abby’s eyes were half closed, and Kang’s hopes faded a bit. He feared she might never recover. “Leave her alone.”

  The man smiled at Kang before turning back to Abby. He reached for the top button on her blouse and unbuttoned it. He continued with the second, and then the third. The smile on his face grew as he pushed the material back, revealing a lacy, black bra. He s
lipped the strap off her shoulder and pushed her bra down, exposing her left breast. He groped it with his hand, pulling and pinching her nipple. “Now why would I want to leave her alone when I am free to play with her?”

  “You bastard!” Kang spat.

  “What? What are you going to do? Nothing. I can fuck her, and all you will do is call me names.” He then yanked the other side of her bra down and fondled both breasts. Her head swayed slightly from side to side. Her eyes were barely open. Moans slipped out from between her lips. He looked back at Kang. “I think she likes it.” Abby let out a louder moan, gaining Quai’s attention once more. He leaned in close, inches from Abby’s face.

  Big mistake.

  Chapter 64

  Quick and unexpected always favors the instigator.

  When Quai turned back to face Abby, the Black Mantis got more than a cheap thrill. Abby’s forehead slammed into the bridge of his nose, pulverizing the fragile bone. It was the thump that could be heard clear across the room. Quai pulled his head back and wailed in agony. Kang saw a glimpse of what was left of his nose after Abby’s forehead had destroyed it. Quai grasped at his face. Blood poured from between his fingers. He stumbled backward until his back hit the wall.

  Kang seized the opportunity and yanked his right hand free from the rope. Still in a seated position, he grabbed an ice pick from the metal cart and drove it into the chest of the guard caught looking at Quai—a man without orders. Kang didn’t wait for a reaction and moved to free himself. He planted both feet on the ground and pushed back, straightening his body. The loud crack of wood splintering pierced the quiet room as the chair collapsed below his weight. Kang grabbed the rope, which was still tied around his waist and part of the chair, and shimmied the debris down his legs as he worked to get it to his feet.

  With his man down, Quai shook off the effects of Abby’s head-butt and moved toward Kang. Quai struck with multiple blows aimed at the tall man’s chest. The first fist hit its mark, but Kang was able to deflect the other blows. Still, Quai continued his flurry of strikes to various parts of Kang’s upper torso and head. Free of the rope, Kang looked for an opportunity to retaliate.