“Anything, Snowden?” Charles asked as he took his seat next to his chief operative.
“My people are out there. Nothing happened during the night. I just this minute got a text saying our departure was noted, but nothing was done. So that tells me they did not make out Dishbang Deshi, and so far as they are concerned, we’re just a tourist group. At least for now. None of them followed us. I can’t say with any assurance that things won’t change in ten minutes or an hour from now.”
The ride to Nathan Road passed quickly. When the vans stopped to park, Maggie and Ted were the first ones out and waiting, clipboards in hand, the feathers in their hats moving briskly in the foggy breeze.
Even at this early hour, the street was teeming with human flesh. The garish banners in red, gold, and sky blue; the yellow neon signs; the babble of humanity was unlike anything the group had ever seen. It was wall-to-wall people, going wherever they were going. “Keep your eyes on the feathers,” Maggie screamed, to be heard above the prattle.
“This is unbelievable,” Myra said as she was jostled to and fro, her hand tightly grasped in Annie’s.
“I could never live in Hong Kong, much less anywhere else in China,” Annie muttered. “I bet they don’t even know what a hot dog with the works is over here.” Hot dogs were Annie’s favorite food. “I don’t much like rice unless it’s covered in some kind of sauce, and I can take noodles or leave them alone. Fish heads are out, absolutely out, and I could never eat soup with one of them staring up at me.”
“I think I’m getting the picture, Annie. Maybe you should think about opening a restaurant over here.”
Annie, her eyes on the two feathers ahead, gave Myra a poke in the arm. “You don’t like it any more than I do. I’m not seeing anything that looks suspicious, are you?”
“No. Mr. Snowden is bringing up the rear. As they say in all those spy movies you watch, he has our six.”
“Our first stop, people!” Maggie bellowed as she stood on her tiptoes so everyone could see the dancing feather better. “Follow me!” And they did.
Upon entering the rickety-looking workroom that was lined with bolts of cloth stacked to the ceiling, the members of the “tour” group fanned out immediately. There was a single narrow path that led to a measuring room where, by quick count, thirty or so people were working sewing machines while others measured customers. Within seconds, they were surrounded by little men with tape measures hanging from their necks.
There was much bowing and many smiles as Harry rattled off their needs in rapid-fire Chinese. One by one, each of them was paired off with two assistants, who would measure each of them from top to bottom. One man who appeared to be in charge held out his hand. After all, money was the name of the game. Maggie opened her Crescent China Tours bag and withdrew a wad of American money. She looked to Harry to tell her how much she needed to count out.
“It’s just a deposit. One thousand for starters. He’s seeing this group as buying BIG. Just so you know, this guy says he creates, that’s the word he is using, for Armani. Spread the word down the line. He said he can even sew a label in whatever he makes that says the designer’s name.”
“Isn’t that illegal?” Maggie asked suspiciously.
“Well, yeah, but this is China. Who are you going to report him to? The police chief is probably his brother or a dear, dear cousin. Take the damn label and be happy about it,” Harry snapped.
From that moment on, it was Christmas morning, the Easter Parade, and the Academy Awards gala until Charles called a halt at the noon hour. “We’re done here, people. Mr. Hua Bo has assured me that all garments will be labeled and sent to the Peninsula no later than ten o’clock tomorrow morning.” He looked over at Maggie and instructed her to pay another three thousand dollars to the man with the glassy eyes. Glassy because he had never had such a successful business day.
Cooper, who had been sitting by the door, reared up and ran to Harry. Time to go.
More bows, more smiles, and the group was once again outside on the main thoroughfare. The air quality, according to Nikki, was even worse than it had been at eight in the morning. They donned their paper face masks and followed Maggie and Ted to a sidewalk restaurant, where they asked for tables inside. A quick lunch of shrimp and dumplings, along with spring rolls and tea, was set before them within minutes.
“Next stop the shoe palace. We get measured, pick out the leather, then we can head back to the hotel.”
The next two hours passed quickly. Money changed hands, and a promise was given to have all the shoes, boots, and slippers delivered to the hotel by ten o’clock the following morning. Another eighteen hundred dollars changed hands.
“The good thing is, the hotel will package everything up and send it out to the farm for us. We won’t have to carry it with us to Macau and on to . . . to our final destination. Abner can sign for it since it will probably get there before we make it home,” Jack said.
When the three vans stopped at the hotel, Avery gave the sign to Charles that nothing had changed. His operatives were still in place. The bad guys or the first string hadn’t moved.
The moment the group assembled in Myra and Annie’s suite, she called room service and ordered coffee, tea, Kentucky bourbon, Chinese beer, and soda pop.
Dennis worked his way over to where Jack and Harry were standing. “I thought the girls would be talking nonstop about all the shopping they did. Instead they’re . . . they’re working on a plan to take out those guys out there, the ones Mr. Snowden’s people are watching. What’s up with that? What if they get caught?”
“That’s a negative, Dennis,” Harry said quietly. “The women don’t know the meaning of that particular word. We need to leave here tomorrow morning, free and clear. That means no one can be tailing us. We want to hit Macau clean and move on from there. Are you having a problem with any of this, Dennis? By the way, what did you order back on Nathan Road?”
“No, I am not having a problem. I ordered two suits with the Armani label. Two sport jackets, two pairs of boots, and one pair of dress shoes. Why?”
“I was just making conversation, kid. You need to relax, have a beer or something. We’re all good here. Just look at Cooper. If things weren’t right, he’d let us know.”
“Yeah, yeah, you’re right, Harry. I guess I feel like this because I don’t like China. I don’t care how cheap it is to get custom-made attire, and I don’t care about how ritzy this hotel is or how many royals have stayed here; give me a Holiday Inn or Best Western, and I’m a happy camper. I guess that I’m a poor excuse for a one-percenter, aren’t I? And the air here is so foul, we’ll probably all have emphysema by the time we get home to the good old USA.”
“Take a nap for God’s sakes, Dennis!” Espinosa snarled. Dennis blinked. Then he shrugged. Everyone was on edge. He could understand that easily enough.
Drinks in hand, Annie stood front and center. “I vote we pass on the high tea and avail ourselves of these wondrous drinks I just ordered from room service. Midnight works for me, people. Our trackers will be feeling the lack of activity. Twenty-four hours is a long time to spend in one spot with no action. The witching hour has always worked for us. I seriously doubt that that bunch of hoodlums, first-stringers or not, will think twice about a group of American women going for a stroll at midnight. We move in, take them out, Avery cleans up after us. Simple. Everyone on board?”
Every hand in the room shot upward, even Dennis’s, which he waved to make sure it was noticed. Cooper let loose with a happy bark.
Harry looked over at Yoko. “One more day closer to finding our daughter. One day closer. I’m going to kill someone, Yoko. I don’t want you to stop me either.”
Yoko smiled up at her husband. “I would never stop you. I will help you. No rules this time, my husband.” She shook her head. “No rules.”
Chapter 13
The group managed to while away the hours till midnight by talking about their shopping expedition, having a room servic
e buffet dinner, watching some local television that made no sense to any of them, then strategizing.
Kathryn held up her hand, and said, “I have an idea. I know it’s dark outside right now since it’s after ten o’clock, but this place is lit up like Yankee Stadium. I think Espinosa and Dennis should take a little night stroll and take some pictures. We know approximately where our stalkers are, from what Snowden told us, but that isn’t going to be good enough. We need to know precisely where each stalker is. This takedown has to be quick and dirty. Espinosa can take the pictures, upload them to us here in the room, and we make out where each of the little men are, hand out assignments, and we’re good to go. Unless any of you have a better idea?”
Espinosa was already sliding his arms into his Windbreaker. Dennis followed suit.
He felt brave enough to ask, “Who takes pictures at night? Won’t we stand out like sore thumbs? I mean, hey, I’m okay with it. I just don’t want to arouse suspicion.”
“Stupid Americans, that’s who. It’s brighter than daylight out there, in case you haven’t noticed,” Kathryn shot back.
And, as usual with one of Dennis’s questions, that was the end of that discussion.
Avery Snowden started pacing the elegant suite of rooms, muttering to himself until he finally exploded. “I can’t believe you people sent those two”—he was going to say “idiots” but changed his mind—“puppies out there to take pictures at midnight. What are you people thinking?” He zeroed in on Charles before he threw his hands high in the air, then started his frantic pacing again.
“I think, Avery, the ladies know what they’re doing. Young Dennis may still be wet behind the ears, but the boy has heart, and according to Harry and Jack, he can definitely hold his own. He’ll protect Espinosa if it comes to that. Let’s not worry about something that might never come to pass. Besides, Avery, your people are out there, so if things get out of hand, they can jump in. Ah, the first pictures are coming in.”
Fergus and Charles both raced to the desk, where, courtesy of the hotel, their laptops were set up. The others crowded around to view the pictures appearing at the speed of light.
“Lightweights,” Jack said. He hoped he was right even though he knew that he wasn’t.
“Deadly,” Harry said. He looked over at Jack, disgust written all over his features. He knew for certain that he was right.
The women cackled with glee.
Fergus looked at Charles, his eyes full of panic as Harry’s assessment of the men outside the hotel ricocheted inside his brain.
“Easy, Ferg, look at who we have. They were born to this. Isn’t it obvious?” Charles hissed. “There are eight of them if you count Maggie. There are only five men. And Snowden’s people can step in should it be necessary. Stop worrying.”
“Maybe you should take a look at Harry, Charles. Tell me that isn’t worry and possibly fear you see on his face.”
“Maybe you should look at Yoko and the rest of the ladies, then make up your mind, Ferg. Start with Annie. She’s so hyped up, nothing could stop her now. The same goes for my beloved.”
More pictures appeared. Comments flowed, feet shuffled. Everything came to a halt when Cooper stirred and made a production of untangling himself. Before he headed toward Harry, he tucked his one-eared half-tailed rabbit into the blanket he’d been sleeping on. Harry simply waited. They all watched, fascinated, as Cooper did his stretches, yawned, and stopped for a drink from a bowl of water near his gear before letting loose with three sharp yips and heading for the door.
Leash in hand, Jack waited. Cooper reached up, snatched the leash, walked it over to Myra, and held it out for her to take.
Jack let loose with a nasty sound deep in his throat. “That damn dog is reminding us that we are sitting this one out. You need to do something about him, Harry.”
“Me! You want me to do something! Like what? Like what, Jack?” Harry screeched, stopping everyone in their tracks.
“Well, for one thing, isn’t he being disloyal right now?”
“Shut up, Jack. I can’t deal with stupid right now,” Harry responded, his voice now sounding normal.
Because he didn’t know what else to do, Jack clamped his lips shut, his gaze never leaving Cooper, who glared right back at him.
“That’s the last picture,” Charles said, pointing to the final picture on the screen. “Young Dennis just sent a text saying they are on the way back in.” The printer, again, compliments of the hotel, whirred to life as picture after picture shot out. Fergus passed them around for everyone to see. Ted was already working on a handmade map of the driveway, the shrubbery, and the road that led to the hotel. The hidey-holes where the stalkers and Snowden’s men were located were secure with luscious, pruned shrubbery. Perfect for hiding even in the bright light.
Dishbang Deshi watched the proceedings with a jaundiced eye. Like this gaggle of women could really take out the group of thugs bent on killing him. It was obvious to him that Harry was living in a dream world these days. And his people, too, were living in that same dream world. He amplified his thinking to include the strange dog at their side. All these people had traveled halfway around the globe to rescue one little girl. And he knew in his heart, in his gut, in his mind, that if it were he in trouble, there would be no one to come to his aid. Never mind traveling halfway around the world. If nothing else, he had to respect the women’s dedication. The thought was so bitter, so repugnant, Dishbang Deshi gagged.
Dishbang Deshi continued to watch as the women stared at the rough map the pretend tour guide was showing them. He could hear soft murmurs but couldn’t make out what they were saying. What he did understand was how the room he was sitting in had suddenly become electrified. Any moment, he expected to see bolts of lightning ricochet across the room. When nothing like that happened, he realized he was actually disappointed.
Then they were at the door, Myra in the lead with the strange dog. This wasn’t right. It should be the men going through the door, the women staying behind because that was their place instead of the way it was. He risked a glance around the room. None of the men seemed to be having a problem with the women’s going out to slay the dragons who awaited. Obviously, this was the way they did things in America. The women were the dominant force. How in the world had it ever come to this? He shuddered when he thought of what he might find when he made it to Mud Flats, Mississippi, to see his wife and daughters. He wanted to say something, to make his feelings known that this wasn’t right, but he wisely held his tongue. He needed these people, especially Harry, to get him away safely to his family.
Dishbang Deshi leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes as the minutes ticked by. He’d give the women thirty minutes before they called on their male counterparts for help. Maybe sooner. He opened his eyes and looked around. The others were talking, their voices so low he couldn’t make out the words. The two older men seemed to be the only ones concerned with what was going on. How could that be, he wondered. He thought about his wife then, in Mud Flats. She would never, as in never, do what these women were planning on doing outside the hotel. She’d run the other way so fast, she’d leave burn marks on the road. Somewhere deep inside his body he rather thought that was not a good thing. What were those women doing right now? Were they being hurled to the ground and stomped on? Were their necks being snapped like twigs? Were they being bound and gagged and transported to some junk, where they would be sold off to some white slave ring? Was the dog still alive? What would the occupants of this room, especially Harry, do when the hotel staff came knocking on the door with the bad news, followed by the police? More to the point, what would he himself do?
As Dishbang Deshi was thinking of all the disasters taking place outside the hotel, down below, the women strolled along the driveway, chattering like magpies about their shopping experience. They laughed, joked, poked at each other, and stopped to light cigarettes they didn’t want because none of them had the filthy habit. It had been Ted’s idea to
bring the cigarettes to create a diversion so as to get a read on the shrubbery and their surroundings. As he said, almost all Chinese appeared to be smokers, so they would blend right in.
“I’m thinking this is pretty close to a warm-cookie moment,” Isabelle said.
“How about a Jimmy Choo half-price sale on the shoes you’ve lusted after for months?” Nikki giggled.
“Oh no! This is like holding a new, sweet-smelling puppy that will love you forever for taking care of him,” Kathryn said.
The others agreed with the three moments of bliss. Cooper let out a series of sharp yips at the mention of the newborn-puppy moment.
The women continued their leisurely stroll, chatting about everything and nothing, their eyes alert, their senses tuned to even the minuscule rustling of the leaves.
It was a cool evening, with a bit of a gentle breeze that was not strong enough to ruffle the plants or the branches on the trees. The evil-smelling smog was almost gone, the air a bit more clear, especially under the bright lights that seemed to be everywhere.
Kathryn giggled. “My four o’clock is good for you, Izzy. Nikki, I’ll take your seven o’clock. Alexis, update please.”
“I’m coming up to my two o’clock and can simply step to the side and take him down.”
“Annie? Myra?”
“I can see the whites of our guy’s eyes from where I am at the moment. I’m going to bend down to check Cooper’s leash, and Myra will strike the first blow. On the count of three we move, not one second before. Maggie, keep your eyes peeled for trouble.”
“One!”
“Two!”
“Three!”
The air moved as the women went into action.
Barely breaking a sweat, Myra had her quarry’s head between her two hands. She gave it one good bounce to the ground before Annie’s foot clamped down on the man’s throat. “Sneak attack! I like that! What do you think, Myra, should I crush his Adam’s apple or stomp on his privates?”
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