“Sounds pretty tough,” Nikky said.
“We don’t have a choice. On a personal level, I need to get Ascia because he’s the top dog that ordered Michael and Gabe’s murders. But besides that, we have to remove him if we’re going to stay in business. Hell, we have to kill him if we want to stay alive.”
“Like the man said, ‘I say we go get the motherfucker.’” Deja squinted with one eye down the barrel of her pointed finger and shot one time.
“Also, we have to be visible here. We don’t know who else Ascia has for eyes here. He brought Jackson in through Baxter. In four years, they’re bound to know plenty of people looking for a little cash. We have to assume he can have information on our daily activity any time he wants it.”
“It has to look like we’re all here, right?” Deja asked.
“Yeah, and for the same reasons we talked about before, I think you’ll be better here. You’re naturally good at being noticed. Not only will the girls see you, any prying eyes will also see you. Stay active. Spend time out on the streets. Nikky, you come with me, then come back every few days to be seen. It’ll look like we’re all here. If they think we’re taking the fight to them, we’ll lose.”
“Well, we can’t have that. I like my life more every day. I’m determined to do anything and everything that needs to be done to win this fucker,” Nikky said.
“I second that shit, big time,” Deja said with a neck roll.
Nikky pointed to her closed blinds. “If we think someone might put a bullet through my window, how safe will it be on the streets?”
“Good point. A little paranoia is good. We all need to be careful on the streets. You guys are not Ascia’s primary target, I am, and I’ll be in Houston, out of sight. We can assume a lot of local people would snitch in a heartbeat if they knew the score, but they don’t. It’s a safe bet, no one local actually works for Ascia. Either us or Trevon would’ve seen or heard something already. Sending Jack-Move was Ascia’s try at putting his man here.”
“Last question. Do we have any backup other than the three of us?” Nikky asked.
“No. I decided not to tell Trevon. He may be the smoothest street thug in all of Los Angeles, but he is still street. That won’t do us any good in this situation.”
“What about here?” Deja asked.
“That’ll be up to you. If you think you need more help than T-Dog, you can call my uncle G-Baby. He knows all about what is going on.”
“Everything?” Nikky asked.
“Yeah, everything.”
“Of course, I sometimes forget he also lost his son,” Nikky said. “When I look at the pain this asshole has caused, it really is payback time for Ascia.”
“True that, his absence will make the world a better place,” Michelle said.
“Any ideas on how to make that happen?” Nikky asked.
“Unfortunately, most of my connections for the type of special equipment we’ll need are on the east coast, Atlanta or in Houston.” Michelle turned to Nikky. “We were lucky we didn’t have time to go shopping before Deja called. The moment we showed up to buy pretty much anything, Ascia would have known about it. The whole thing would have been over before it got started.”
“Now what? Where do we find what we need?” Nikky asked.
“There is a radical Vietnamese group running Little Saigon in Houston. They’re Ascia’s competition. I think I can arrange something with them.”
“That’s it then?” Deja asked.
“Basically, yeah. We all make it a point to be seen around town the rest of the day and this evening.” Michelle nodded toward Nikky. “We’ll catch a cab to the airport for the redeye to Texas later tonight.”
Nineteen: They Don’t Like You
“LEAVE IT TO YOU to bring a tough one. Yeah, it can be done. But you need to know, it’s gonna be some hairy shit,” Tuan said.
Tuan was a first generation Vietnamese living in Little Saigon in Orange County. His father and Michelle’s grandfather met in Vietnam during the war. Their shared horror and survival marked the men for life. With the help of ‘Grandpa Gabe,’ Tuan’s father made it out and settled in Southern California. Tuan and G-Baby grew up doing favors, legal and not-so legal, helping the families whenever help was needed.
“I can deal with hairy as long as it can be done. It can be done, right?” Michelle asked.
“Yes, but not by you. I’ll need to come and act in your place.” Tuan said.
“Why?”
“The group who can do what you ask are the skinheads of my people. They hate anyone who is not Vietnamese. On something like this, they will not talk with you if they don’t already know you and you are not Vietnamese. My life will be in danger just for bringing you to them.”
One segment of her three years of assassin training was spent in the jungles of central Vietnam. For seven months, enduring the hardest possible physical punishment, she learned the arts of survival and silent, hands-on killing. She also learned enough of the singsong Vietnamese language to survive where no English was spoken.
“Look Tuan, I didn’t back down from your people when I was in Vietnam. I’m not backing down from them here at home in my own country. Fuck that. I meet with them.”
“Honestly, if I take you to them, neither of us will leave alive. I know these people. My wife’s cousin is one of them. They’re relentless and vicious.”
“Then we don’t go to them. They come to us. We’ll meet on neutral ground. I’ll arrange the place. You arrange the meet.”
* * *
Michelle flew to Atlanta and, through a series of steps, made her way to Mr. Jones’s offices. That alone was impressive because she had always met him in a public place. Also, it had always been at his invitation. He was one of two employers who’d used her assassin services over the past couple years. They didn’t have a personal relationship, but there was a building respect between them.
“Hello, Miss Angelique. This is a surprise. How may I help you?”
“Hello, Mr. Jones. Thank you for seeing me in your office.” She acknowledged the special trust he gave her by allowing her to see the inside of his headquarters. It was a trust only a select few had ever been given. “I need some help on a rather unique situation.”
“I’d assumed as much, given your presence.”
“I need a neutral place to meet with the Vietnamese in Houston.”
“I see.” He leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers. “Who knows of this?”
“You and a Vietnamese friend who will arrange the other side. That’s it.”
“The Vietnamese friend?”
“A citizen with connections who knows the risks.”
“Can your friend be trusted?”
“He knew me when I was a baby. Probably had to change my diapers a few times. He’s as solid as they come. Yeah, I trust him with my life.”
“This is outside of my geography,” he said.
“Yes.”
“Still you come to me for this?”
“I’m here.” She paused, then added, “Asking for your assistance.”
Without a shadow of a doubt, she knew it was bad to be in debt to a man like Mr. Jones. But she didn’t have many options.
Again he leaned back in his chair. After a long moment he said, “I’ll make the call. When do you want it?”
“Tonight gives me time to go back to Houston. Tomorrow morning is fine.”
“I’ll call both sides twice,” Jones said. “The first call will take you to a starting place. You’ll go there and wait for my second call. The second call will be with the location for the meeting. It will be somewhere in an industrial area of Houston. You’ll have to move quickly to make it there in the time I give you.”
“Thank you, Mr. Jones. I’m in your debt.” Michelle stood to leave.
“It’s an exceptionally dangerous thing you’re undertaking here.”
“Yes, it is. It’s also necessary.” She walked out of his office.
&n
bsp; * * *
Le Ahn Tu walked through the small foyer and entered the empty room. He stopped and scanned the area. The top floor of the two story industrial building had once been an open office bay with four offices at one end. The four doors were all open wide. The building was obviously between tenants, but not abandoned. One man was stationed at the bottom of the stairs behind him assuring no one followed him up. Three of his men had entered shortly before. He was confident they had cleared the four small offices. Two more of his men walked in behind him. “I see you, but I don’t see the woman,” he said to Tuan, who stood in the center of the room.
“That’s because she is standing behind you,” Michelle said. She had twin Glock 19s, one in each hand, pointed at the feet of the men at his sides. She had hid in the heating vent in the foyer listening to their footsteps as they passed into the room.
Tu looked up at the three men who entered the room first. It was their job to secure the room and watch the front as he entered. They failed. That failure would be a loss of face. Speaking in Vietnamese, he told the two men at his sides, “Don’t turn, watch the windows.” He turned around to look at Michelle. Still speaking in Vietnamese he said, “I meet the legend who lived with the Ghost.”
Michelle replied in English, “There is no Ghost.”
“Yes that is right. It is the Dragon who lives in the mountains,” he said in Vietnamese.
“There is no Dragon who lives in the mountains.” Again, her reply was in English.
The man on his left spoke in Vietnamese. “Ahn Tu, she is full of shit and a liar. Everyone knows it is the Dragon that lives in the mountains at the school for ghosts.”
Tu said nothing when Michelle’s right hand moved in slow motion. She kept her eyes locked on Ahn Tu’s eyes while she raised her hand. The Glock 19 pointed at his man’s head.
Still speaking Vietnamese, Tu said, “Mr. Bau, I believe she does not agree with you. I believe you have insulted her. Your comment has made you her second target. First after me.”
Michelle recognized the use of Bau’s name, and the English word mister instead of the Vietnamese word Ahn, was Tu’s way of telling her he understood his man’s mistake. It also said he understood her intent.
“Please lower your gun. Mr. Bau apologizes for his misunderstanding.”
Michelle partially lowered her gun. It did not go down as far as it had been earlier.
Switching to English Tu asked, “Can you tell me who lives in the mountains?”
Speaking perfect tonal Vietnamese Michelle repeated the phrase she had memorized, “Only the Goat runs the mountain-side like flat land, eats what it wants, can take more punishment than it gives and still kill its opponent.” Switching to English she said, “Ahn Tuan is my lifelong friend. He is uncle “cậu” to me. None in this room will live if he is harmed. He has my list of needs.” At that she stepped backward one step then sidestepped out of sight.
Tu heard a thud and spun to see one of his men had hit Tuan on the head. Knocked to his knees, Tuan crouched on the floor. “STOP!” Tu yelled. Everyone in the room froze. He pulled a Glock 19, almost identical to the two carried by Michelle. He pointed it at Tuan. Then, looked up and spoke to the man who had hit Tuan. “Why?”
“He is a traitor. He brought a woman who is not one of us into our midst. It is his fault we have lost face to an outside woman.”
“Vu, you are my wife’s cousin. You are a good man and I have enjoyed your company many times. I am sorry.” Fast as a Cobra strike, Tu’s hand jerked up and he shot the man in the forehead.
“DON’T MOVE,” he shouted. Again, the room froze. Then, in a normal voice he said. “We are all alive because she wants us to be alive. Our honor was broken when Vu knocked Ahn Tuan to the floor. It is hopefully restored by Vu’s death. It should be enough. If it is not, she will kill every one of us. We deal with the woman only a select few know to whisper about.”
“We will treat Ahn Tuan with the respect of an honored guest from the homeland. A guest with shared ancestors. We do this out of respect, not of fear. I do not fear to die. I do fear to lose my honor. Do you understand what I have said here?”
Each man in turn answered they understood.
Ahn Tu reached down to help Tuan up. “You were wise to find a neutral ground. How can we help you?”
Wordlessly, Tuan handed him the list of supplies Michelle had prepared.
After a moment to look it over, Tu nodded. “Three days for most. Four days for the rest. I’ll call you.” He looked at his wife’s dead cousin. “Bring him.”
The four guards picked up the dead man and carried him out.
Tuan stood alone in the center of the room, much where he started. Slowly his knees buckled. He wound up sitting on the floor. Some time later, he found his way to his car and started toward his hotel. Two blocks away, Michelle stood beside a bus stop. She waved and he picked her up.
He looked over at her in the passenger seat. “I had no idea.”
“I’m sorry to put you through that. Given the time constraints, it was a necessary process in order to keep from having to kill them and more importantly, accomplish all that needed to be, well, accomplished. They’re a particularly prideful bunch. I had to earn their respect and create a little fear. How is your head?” She asked.
“You saw that?”
“Yes.”
“Would you have killed all of them?”
“If they killed you, every one of them would also die.”
“Did they know that?”
“Their leader did. It was enough.”
Twenty: Ho House
DEJA PULLED INTO the drive of the large two story house. It was in an older middle class neighborhood with mature trees. All the yards and houses were well taken care of. With her key, she let herself in the front door. She noticed the Russian women were somewhat settled in. Little things like pillows on the couch and the smell of cooking made the house feel lived in. Walking on through to the kitchen in back, she found five women. One stirred something in a pot on the stove, two women stood at the center island where they chopped vegetables. Two sat at the table, hair up in rollers, and an array of files, buffers, cotton balls and polishes laid out in front of them. A chorus of “Hello, Deja” came from five smiling faces.
A woman standing at the center island chopping celery put her knife down and said, “I get Jelena.” She stepped out the back door. A moment later, both women came in.
“Hi, Deja, I was in the back yard. Some of us want to make garden to grow food. It is wonderful place. We all love it here so much. We never leave. We wish to buy digging tools and seeds. It is exciting to have our own yard for garden. It is okay we make garden, right?”
“Sure. Make all the garden you want. You do know they sell fresh vegetables in the store, right? You pick out what you want and put them in a bag, no dirt or broken fingernails.”
“Yes, we know. We want to make our own foods like tomatoes. These things we cannot do at home. It is wonderful for us.”
“Yeah, whatever, it’s up to you. I came to look at the expenses and see how it went with your girl,” Deja said.
“She said she give you the envelope already. Was it enough?” Frown lines appeared between Jelena’s eyebrows.
“It was fine, she did a good night. I want to talk to her about how it went on the street. What happened. What she saw.”
“I get her now. Is there problem?”
“No, no problem. I’m here to check on how things went is all,” Deja replied.
“I go get book and receipts and I get Candy. We can sit in front room where it is no people and quiet,” Jelena said.
A few minutes later Jelena returned with two women. Deja recognized Candy from the street. She didn’t know the other woman.
“This is Susan, she is who keeps the journal of expenses and receipts. She is the best one of us with numbers.” Jelena introduced the pretty woman with pale skin set off by dark hair and dark eyes.
“Hi, Susan, do
you speak English?”
“A little. Not enough. Is okay if Jelena can help?”
Deja spent a few minutes going over the ledger. It all looked okay, no big crazy items. She was most familiar with the beauty supplies and looked them over carefully. “No this won’t work. You can’t use this cheap shit here. This crap’ll ruin your hair. You need better shampoo. Something without sulfides. That’s what strips the oil out and makes your hair dry like straw. The men will love your silky hair. We have to take good care of it.”
“I’m sorry Deja,” Jelena said. “We don’t know about shampoos or that other thing you said. Before we only use what the pimp gave us and makeup we buy at drug store.”
Deja sat back thinking. “There’s a lot to know. I’m pretty good with Black hair and skin but not so much with yours. We’ll start with hair, wigs and skin care. Then we can move into makeup for the different complexions.”
The doorbell rang. Jelena, looked up, eyebrows furrowed. “Who knows to come here?”
Deja grabbed her purse, pulled out her Sig 9mm and checked the front yard through the window. Smiling, she put her gun back in her purse and answered the door. “Thanks PJ.” She took the car keys to Nikky’s old Honda.
From the door, PJ eyed the house. “Nice crib.”
“You’ll have better than this, you keep doing like you’ve been doing,” Deja said. “I’ll see you tonight.”
PJ waved as she headed to her car waiting on the street.
The Honda was parked behind Deja’s Crossfire in the drive.
“Who is that?” Jelena asked.
“A delivery. We can deal with that later, but first I want to talk to Candy,” Deja said.
Hard Win: Action Adventure Pulp Thriller Book #3 (Michelle Angelique Avenging Angel Series) Page 12