The Grandmaster's Legacy (HOT Historical Suspense, Box Set)

by Taylor Lee

Wyatt lit his cigar and took several puffs on it, then picked up the stack of fliers. He looked at them, one by one. His face paled. His eyes widened with shock and then filled with tears. He sat for a long moment squeezing his eyes shut to stop the tears from falling. Then he picked up the stack and examined the fliers again, one after another. When he had looked at them all, he went back and found the most despicable ones. He looked up at Tom, his face hard, his eyes cold with rage. He said with a tight smile without a trace of mirth, “I’m going to kill that man.”

  Tom didn’t respond. He sat quietly, agonizing over Wyatt’s pain.

  Wyatt looked at him again and said, “Christ, Tom. Wait until Wan sees these.”

  “He already has. Chief told me that he had a message from him. Wanted to know where he could find you. He’s on his way here now.”

  Wyatt nodded. His expression was impassive, his eyes dark, unreadable.

  The door opened. Chief and Alono walked in. Chief closed the door behind him. His face was pale, tight with anger, his eyes flashing. Alono looked as though someone had died. Even more than anger, his face and eyes were ravaged with pain.

  Wyatt stood up and went to them both. Wordlessly, Chief put his arms around both men and pulled them tight to him. Wyatt put his arm around Alono and stroked his back the way you would a hurt child. Tom watched the three of them and fought back tears of his own.

  After several minutes, Wyatt loosened his grip on them both and walked back to the desk. He nodded to Chief, and pulled up a chair for him and one for Alono. He put his arm around Alono’s shoulders, leaned down and whispered to him, “It’s okay, Brother. It’s okay. We’re gonna get the son of a bitch. You and me, Brother. We’re gonna get him.”

  Alono nodded. He sunk into the chair, looking down to hide the tears on his face, but didn’t try to brush them away.

  Wyatt turned to Tom. “Where did they put them, Tom?”

  “Everywhere. Christ, it’s like rain. They are fucking everywhere, Wyatt.”

  Wyatt sat smoking his cigar, silent for several minutes.

  “It’s like rape. A vile public rape. It’s as though they sat around in a group and thought of every sick thing they wanted to do to her. Then captured each depraved act on these fliers.”

  At that moment, Sarah knocked on the door, opened it and started to say they had guests. Before she got the words out, a group of Chinese men pushed her aside, then parted as Wan Chang strode in. His face mirrored all of theirs. More intense, if possible. Like Alono, there was almost as much pain in his eyes as rage.

  He looked at each of them and then held Wyatt’s gaze. He said one word. “Alone.”

  Wyatt nodded. He gestured to the rest of them to leave the room. Chief frowned and shook his head no. But Wyatt went to the door and held it open for all of them and closed the door behind them.

  He walked back to his desk and waited until Wan sat down. He sunk down in his chair across from him.

  Wan picked up the stack of fliers. He methodically laid them out in a single layer. When the desk was covered with repulsive cartoon drawings of the woman they both loved more than anything in the world, he sat back.

  Wyatt saw Wan’s pain grip him and his eyes fill with tears. His own cold rage was pressing so hard against his chest that he had difficulty drawing a full breath. Their eyes met and their mutual grief flooded them both.

  The gruesome pictures portrayed Lei twisted and tied in every possible sexual position. Everything about her was exaggerated, magnified. Her breasts, her ass, her gaping cunt, her eyes. Every stereotypical Chinese feature had been grossly overdrawn, ugly. Many of the pictures included groups of men attacking her, fucking every hole at once. The more salacious ones portrayed a monstrous oversexed image of Wyatt. Again, amplifying every remotely Indian feature. Looking at the pictures again, Wyatt realized that he hadn’t understood the most shocking element until now. In every picture, the ‘cartoon Lei’ was enjoying everything that was being done to her. Her face was alight with grotesque passion. The hideous smile of an ugly whore who enjoyed being raped.

  Wyatt began to pick up the pictures, but Wan reached over to stop him. Wyatt took Wan’s hands in his and held them tightly. He waited until Wan stopped resisting and an impassive mask settled on the older man’s face. At that point, Wyatt released his hands, picked up the pictures, turned them over, and put them in his desk drawer.

  He reached in his humidor, took out a cigar for each of them and handed one to Wan. He went over to his cabinet and poured them each a tall glass of bourbon. Sitting back in his chair, he waited for the attack that was sure to come. To his surprise it did not.

  Wan sat smoking his cigar and sipping on the bourbon. After he drained the glass – something Wyatt had never seen him do, he glared at Wyatt with hard cold eyes. Wyatt was startled. Wan had made a transformation, the likes of which Wyatt hadn’t seen before, except in himself. It was as though Wan had taken his anguish, his pain, and locked it in a solid block of cold fury. Wyatt now understood why Wan wanted to be alone with him. He needed to reach this place of concentrated rage.

  Wan’s voice was low, cold fired with wrath. “This man must be stopped.”

  Wyatt nodded, assuming that Wan meant physically, killed.

  Wan continued, “I have tried to imagine the depths of depravity that would allow a man to create these pictures and then to distribute them. I know violent, vicious men. I am one. You are as well, Wyatt. We kill without compunction, as violently and viciously as the circumstances dictate. But to do this to an innocent young woman, a woman who has never done anything to you except be born Chinese and love an Indian who is about to defeat you? It requires a level of evil beyond mine.

  “This man is too bad for us simply to kill him. If we mutilated him, viciously, piece by piece, then killed him, he would only be dead. It is not enough. No matter how much physical pain we inflicted, he wouldn’t remember it, wouldn’t live with it. Death would be a blessing.”

  Wan’s face was a rigid stone mask, his words so quiet, Wyatt had to strain to hear them.

  “We need to do more, Wyatt. We need to bring him down in a way that will cripple him, shame him, devastate him for the rest of his life. He is a public man. He despises you. The worst thing you can do is to destroy him in his chosen arena. You must become the first Indian governor of Wyoming married to a Chinese woman.”

  Wyatt at first rejected Wan’s demand. “It’s not enough, Wan. I’m sorry. I disagree. I need…I have to … I must have his blood…see his agony…”

  Wan shook his head, “No, Wyatt. The only way to hurt him as no other man can is for you to win this election.”

  Wyatt struggled with his fury, then, closing his eyes for a moment, he began to see the wisdom in Wan’s words. He met Wan’s eyes and saw his anger reflected in the black depths. Wyatt took a deep breath, pressed his lips in a thin line, and reluctantly nodded his assent.

  Wan spoke. “Given that, I will give you the best weapon you will have to destroy him. In addition to the rape of my daughter, it is the single best reason for you to win this election, and for me to support you.”

  Wyatt stared at him in surprise.

  “Bai gave me important information yesterday. I am in the process of confirming his story. If it is true, Grant Forrester is not only a corrupt, evil man, but he is doing in real life what he is doing to Lei in those cartoons. If Bai is correct, Grant is involved in a prostitution ring that is buying and selling young Chinese girls. They are bringing them to this country against their will, hidden in the holds of cargo ships. Many are as young as ten, none are older than fourteen. Again, if our information is correct, he is working directly with one of the most powerful branches of the Triads based in China. This fact alone, Wyatt, is worth your undivided attention. It is one thing to have disgruntled investors wanting to bring you down. It is quite another to be on the wrong side of the Triads.”

  Wyatt was stunned. “Jesus Christ, Wan, this trumps everything. Any concerns I have had ab
out running – and you can be goddamn sure I have as many as you have—this outranks them all. When will you know if it is true?”

  “We know now. But I want personal confirmation from my source in the Triad. He is one of the three highest ranking leaders. I expect word from him today.”

  “Do you object to my telling my team?”

  “You know who can be trusted. Bai, Nianzu, and I are the only ones in the Sing Leon who have this information.”

  Wyatt nodded. He rose to his feet and walked to the door, his body and face tight with tension.

  ~~~

  Tom, Chief, Alono, Bai, and Nianzu were standing solemnly together outside Wyatt’s office. They all moved forward when he opened the door and motioned them to enter the room. When they were all seated, Wyatt held each of them in his gaze. He didn’t hide the molten anger in his eyes. Knowing they expected the conversation to be about Lei, instead, Wyatt turned to Bai.

  “In a minute, I am going to ask Bai to relay information Wan has given me. First, understand this information is not to leave this room. I personally will tell Lei and Joey when I see them next. Wan will hold his men to secrecy. Chief and Alono would go to their grave before betraying a confidence from me. I am specifically saying this to you, Tom. I am not implying that you would be indiscreet, but I do not want anyone on your team or the broader campaign team to have this information. That includes the Caballeros. There will come a time when all of them will know and be working on this issue. For now, we must maintain strict secrecy. Bai, please tell Tom, Chief, and Alono what you have learned.”

  Bai looked at Wan and asked in rapid Chinese whether he could reveal their sources and the name of the top person in the Triad.

  Wyatt smiled and responded in Chinese, “If Wan asks you not to, I will not reveal the sources you just named.”

  Wan said in Chinese, “Apparently you don’t know that Wyatt speaks fluent Chinese, Bai. Regardless, he can be trusted with any and all information. Please do not reveal it to the others.”

  Bai flushed with embarrassment. In perfect clipped English, tinged with his unusual French accent, Bai described in detail the astonishing news Wan had told Wyatt. Tom, Chief, and Alono were shocked.

  Tom spoke first.

  “Holy Christ. How real is this? How good are your sources? Please understand why I need to know. If this is true, and, depending on where Grant is in the crime – how much responsibility he has—this is the issue that we have been looking for. It is how we will defeat him. Not to say anything about the hideousness of the crime.”

  Bai replied, “It is our understanding that Grant Forrester is one of four people who head up the American side of the prostitution ring. We are determining precisely who is working for the Triads in China – and where they stand in the hierarchy.”

  Wyatt spoke up. “Chinese prostitution is big business here and in China. What makes this unusual is the involvement of white men, American politicians. In terms of Grant Forrester, the critical questions we need to answer are these: Is he actively involved in a criminal activity? And, can we prove that? Finally, is he using profits from this illegal enterprise to fund his campaign? If the answers to those questions are yes, his campaign is dead. But, only if we have irrefutable proof. We need confirmation from your Triad principal, Wan. Then we need as much information about the prostitution ring as possible. It is essential we have proof of Grant’s involvement.”

  Bai looked to Wan, seeking confirmation. Wan nodded his approval to the young man. Bai continued, his presence much stronger than his age would dictate. “We can find that information better than you can, Wyatt. For obvious reasons. Please allow us to manage this discovery. We will have convincing answers to all of your questions within two weeks.”

  Wyatt’s eyes narrowed, then he nodded his consent. “Fine. Once we have irrefutable evidence, then those of us who are responsible for the campaign strategy - primarily Tom and me -will decide how and when we will make the information public.

  “Wan, Bai, Nianzu, you likely have saved this campaign for us. Thank you. In the process, we may be able to save the lives of innocent children and bring down evil men in the process.” Wyatt stood and bowed respectfully. Tom, the Chief, and Alono followed suit.

  Wyatt resumed his seat, then glanced from one to another with a hard glare. “As much as this pains me, we need to turn to the question of these fliers of Lei. Wan, I presume you want to stay for this discussion? Bai and Nianzu, you are welcome to stay. That’s Wan’s decision.”

  Wan nodded to his men. They all stayed seated.

  Wyatt’s expression was sober, stern. “I have a recommendation for you to consider. Tom and I haven’t had a chance to hash this out so understand it is a preliminary idea. This is my thinking. Just as we responded to the ridiculous fliers of me, by underscoring who I really am, I propose we do the same for Lei. I need your help on this, Tom. I can picture a flier with a photograph of our family. We know Lei is extraordinarily beautiful. Likewise, Elena, Alex, and Nicolas Deshi are beautiful children. I think we need to blanket the state with a picture of the five of us. We can label it “The Wyatt McManus Family” with each of our names and our campaign line “Wyoming’s Governor.”

  He paused. Seeing that the others were nodding positively, he continued.

  “There is another element in the portrayal of Lei that can help us. There is something unseemly, unfair, and ungentlemanly to attack a defenseless woman, even if she is Chinese. If we play this right, we can make it clear that Grant is a disgusting bigoted misogynist. For those of you who don’t know the word, a misogynist is someone who hates or disrespects women.

  Tom was smiling broadly.

  “You are right, Wyatt. We need a flier or newspaper article or ad or all three that asks the question, ‘What kind of a man portrays a defenseless woman in this way?’”

  “Exactly, Tom. We can ask, ‘What kind of a man thinks about women in this way?’”

  Tom said in explanation to Wan and his men, “Lei and we agreed that one of our constituencies is women. We believe that women are more likely to vote for Wyatt than for Grant. We need to go to the women of Wyoming and ask, ‘Do you want Wyoming to have a governor that thinks about women this way?’”

  Wyatt continued, demonstrating why he and Tom worked together the way that they did.

  “We need to change the conversation from one about Lei being Chinese to one about how disrespectful Grant is of women. That will be a tough one for him to answer, given that he has blanketed the state with these hideous fliers.”

  Tom rubbed his chin thoughtfully and asserted, “We also should think about doing campaign meetings with Lei and the children.”

  Wan and Wyatt responded in unison with a resounding “No!”

  As Wan shook his head, Wyatt explained for both of them.

  “We need to see the reaction to the family photograph and our flier questioning Grant’s treatment of women. We need to see if people respond the way we hope they will. At that point, we can then decide if we will do rallies with the family or keep them in the background.”

  Tom nodded, “I agree at this point. But just as we are getting you out there Wyatt, to dispel the savage Indian portrayal, we need to think about putting beautiful Lei out there to dispel the ugliness of those horrible pictures.”

  Wan said, “Absolutely not.”

  “Let’s leave it there for now, Tom,” Wyatt said firmly.

  Tom said, “I agree for now, Wyatt. On another level, I am going to arrange meetings with you and newspaper people to discuss the fliers. Grant and his asshole buddies are going to be surprised when we take them on directly. They expect us to try to shove these under the rug, hope people will forget that you are a half breed and Lei is Chinese. And they are right. We don’t want to focus on that. Instead we want to focus on a candidate for governor who would print and say such vile despicable things.”

  “Set them up, Tom. I also think we should be talking with the national newspaper people. Thi
s is the kind of garbage that they crave. Like you, I think we can use it to our advantage. If people in Washington and New York and San Francisco are talking about the ugliness of the race, the people of Wyoming are not going to like it. They won’t want to be portrayed as backward racist people who hate women. Remember, we were the first territory to give women the vote. Those fliers of Lei should and I think will make every woman angry. Or at least uncomfortable.”

  As everyone was leaving, Wyatt said, “Wan, unless you disagree, I do not want Lei to see the fliers.”

  Wan gazed at the desk, his eyes steely, his jaw firm. He nodded.

  “Got that everyone? Tom, I hope to have Lei occasionally come to Cheyenne when I am unable to get home. Please make sure that everyone on your team understands I don’t want her to see the fliers. She can’t do anything about them now; they will only be painful.”

  That news was quickly transmitted to everyone in the campaign. Just as quickly it was relayed to Grant and his team by the people Charlie Morales had placed inside the campaign. Knowing Wyatt’s reputation with women, Charlie had made sure that his “eyes and ears” were good looking, unsophisticated young girls. They were hired to cook and clean and run errands. These girls wouldn’t know or understand the importance of the information they conveyed. They did what they were told, didn’t ask questions and happily took home the extra wages for work they didn’t understand.

  ~~~

  Chapter 12

  The tension in the campaign headquarters was palpable. The fliers of both Wyatt and Lei, particularly the ones of Lei, had thrown the workers off balance. The sheer ugliness was devastating. Tom and Wyatt hoped their staff’s reaction was similar to what other people felt when they saw the fliers. On the positive side, the pictures galvanized the staff, particularly the Caballeros, who were furious. The first two weeks of organizing had been a model of efficiency. When the fliers hit, everyone understood in real terms what they were up against. Only later would they understand that the fliers were just the beginning. The Forrester campaign did not intend to lose. This was their last and best shot at Wyatt. No matter what it took, they were going to take the half-breed down once and for all.