SLAVERY UNBOUND: Cruelty & Lust with the Emerging Eastern Mafia (Noah Reid Action Thriller series Book 4)
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JJ swivels the cart though so the bullet actually enters Eva’s body.
JJ leaps into the air and descends toward Igor, arms rotating with blinding speed.
Igor fires at JJ, but the martial artist’s reflexes are so finely honed that he grabs the bullets out of the air and hurls them back at the Russian.
JJ’s swinging arms land on Igor, but the Russian easily withstands the devastating attack. He picks JJ up and hurls him inside the elevator twenty feet away.
He then rushes toward the elevator. When he’s three feet away, JJ randomly pushes a button on the elevator’s floor selection panel. Doesn’t matter which floor, the goal is to get the elevator door to close.
Igor’s moving too fast to stop. But even if he could, the closing elevator door is hardly a deterrent.
But it does slow him for fractions of a second. Enough so that when the elevator door closes in on Igor’s body, JJ pulls him inside and rams his head against the far side.
The elevator starts to rise. Muscle versus finesse. Combat is too close for Igor to maneuver his gun.
Igor throws a Mike Tyson uppercut at JJ.
JJ jumps up as the fist lands on his jaw, weakening the impact.
In the air, JJ releases a double kick to Igor’s body, knocking him to the other side of the elevator wall.
JJ takes a step and delivers a sideswipe with his right leg, but Igor is able to grab it.
Igor tries to twist it, but JJ kicks out, and his foot lands against Igor’s forehead, snapping it back.
Igor falls backward against the wall, then falls forwards then crumples to the floor, apparently stunned.
Hidden from JJ, Igor reaches into his pocket and pulls out a knife.
JJ brings his arm back and motions to deliver a hammer chop to Igor’s neck.
However, at the last possible millisecond, Igor turns around and thrusts the knife at JJ’s chest.
JJ’s momentum is too great to stop, so the knife enters his body for an inch before JJ is able to stop moving.
Knife sticking out of his chest, with a flurry of palm strikes to his temples, JJ attacks Igor.
The hard-headed Igor has withstood and been victorious by an onslaught by Chechen fanatics, but this is entirely different. A barrage from a supremely knowledgeable Shaolin kung fu master is completely foreign to him. Igor succumbs, unable to withstand JJ’s barrage.
JJ hits the freight elevator back to the basement housekeeping floor - is there more information there that he needs to check out? He opens it and hears the shouting of voices. He sneaks a peek around the corner to see several hotel and housekeeping staff and policemen. The housekeepers are crying and pointing to Eva’s dead body while the police are trying to calm them down and get any information they can about the situation.
JJ listens for a few moments and realizes that they have no new information for him. By now he’s watched enough American crime shows to know that the hotel is likely now a crime scene that he has to avoid. It won’t be long before they discover Igor’s body as well, and he would be likely the number one suspect. Heck - he is Igor’s killer. He would be held in custody and interrogated for hours, then imprisoned if not deported. However, his bigger concern is not for himself but for the girls. If they put together the connection between them and him, the young innocents might wind up deported or in foster care or with men as bad as Alexei or even worse.
RING! JJ’s cell phone. Damn! JJ quickly looks around and sees a women’s bathroom. He shuts off the phone as he darts into the room.
He sees an open window and jumps up and grabs the ledge. He swings himself and squeezes himself outside the window and into an alley.
What JJ doesn’t know is that one of housekeepers saw and recognized him. Despite JJ’s efforts, his anonymity is blown.
And then things will get worse for JJ when the police find Olga’s body in the hotel dumpster.
***
JJ runs down the alley for a block with cell phone to his ear. “Yes, Olivia.”
“Yes, Olivia.”
“The bus has been hijacked. Some big hunk of a Chinese guy called Prince is in there, and he’s either killed or knocked out Abby and the bus driver. He’s got all kids and Tanya too.”
“Where are they going?”
“Didn’t say. He just laughed and flexed his muscles. Noah was in a fight with Alexei. He’s been shot, stabbed and injected with I don’t know what. He’s unconscious and bleeding. We’re on our way to Dr. Tang’s. What’s your news?”
“Not good. No sign of Olga, the cleaning lady, and Eva, the head housekeeper, is dead. I just took out a big, bald Russian guy, then took off when I saw the cops. Last thing I need is for them to start checking me out. What are you doing with Noah?”
“Going to Chinatown to see Dr. Tang. He’s so stubborn. His final words were, “No Western medicine.”
DING! Olivia has forwarded a video text.
“Did you get it?” asks Olivia.
“Yes.”
Her voice softens. “I see a resemblance to Queenie... and Chin.”
JJ looks at the video intensely. He sees the man that was taking advantage of his girl. “There is something else. Noah and I rescued the Chinese girls from two guys who had exactly the same tattoos as Prince does. Can we find them?”
“He left Abby’s cell phone on. I’m sure he knows we can track him... What are we going to do, JJ?”
“I will join you at Dr. Tang’s. Text me the address.”
“See you then.”
Click.
JJ begins his walk through the crowded Manhattan streets. He doesn’t see anybody or anything.
The forces of evil are coming together. Shaolin Darkness is descending quickly. Nothing else makes sense. One thing I didn’t tell Olivia is that the tattoos are in the same stance that were in the pictures in the Great Hall of Heaven. Paradise has found its way to hell on earth. And I am now part of it. Just a few weeks ago, I was a monk in an isolated monastery. Martial arts was a spiritual exercise, but now it is a weapon of war. I’m a killer now and wouldn’t hesitate to kill again. I will kill the man if he hurts Abby.
CHAPTER 18
The driver is dead, Abby has been knocked unconscious after a ferocious fight, Sam was dispatched with one huge smack of the hand, Tanya is passed out or maybe even overdosed on the front. Not much wonder why the kids on the bus are freaked.
Prince holds court with the microphone. “None of you have nothing to worry about. Tanya is the one who told me that you needed protection.”
“My sister said that?” utters Larissa.
“You be Larissa? Hey, baby, you are even more gorgeous than Tanya,” says Prince’s flattering lips, slipping back into pimp mode at the sight of the prepubescent innocent.
“Nobody’s prettier than Tanya. All the guys want her. That’s what Alexei says.”
“Hey, sugar, that’s cuz they haven’t seen you.”
“Oh, they’ve seen me, but I’m too young. That’s what Tanya says. Can I touch it?”
“Touch what?”
“The driver.”
“Sure, why not?”
Larissa walks up and touches the driver’s hair. She is the only one of the kids who isn’t afraid of the sight of the dead driver. It’s a sad comment on her life that the young girl is so unaffected by seeing it.
“She’s dead all right. That’s okay. She wasn’t a very good driver. She went through a red light.”
This strange demeanor is perversely attractive to Prince. “Like I said, none of you has anything to worry about.” He stares right at Larissa. “Especially you, baby.”
“Where are we going?” asks another girl.
“We are going to the candy factory where you can have all the brown sugar you can handle,” says Prince.
“Except for you.” Prince points to Ling Ling, Mei and Lydia. “I’m not very happy with you.”
***
Alexei lies on a medical examining table in an ultra-private clinic. There ar
e no names on the two-thousand-square-foot facility, there is no listed phone number, but to anyone in the criminal Russian underworld who is anyone, this is one of the best private medical clinics in New York. Dr. Ivan Zubov and his colleagues, Dr. Boris Ledovsky and Dr. Samuel Korchnoi, provide twenty-four-hour, on-call service to five select Russian mobs. These criminal organizations are able to share the services of the doctors because their geographical territories and client demographics are so different that none of them would ever be in competition with the other. All three doctors have extensive experience in emergency room medicine. Ledovsky is a surgeon, Korchnoi is an anesthetist and Zubov practices general medicine.
The three doctors are compensated very well for their expertise. One million dollars per year, tax free and all expenses in their state-of-the-art mini-hospital included for seeing at most five patients a day per doctor.
Even with this, none of the doctors are doing this willingly. Each of them serves only because of the threat of extermination of themselves and their families, not only in America but in their homelands. All of them at some point in their lives required the illegal services of their bosses, and for that, part of the cost was their professional freedom.
The knife that Noah shoved into Alexei’s chest has been removed, and Zubov has cleaned, stitched and bandaged him. Dr. Ledovsky now expertly manipulates surgical tweezers to remove the shards of glass from the socket area of Alexei’s eye.
“I told you for years, Alexei, to get rid of this glass eye. Now I have to do it the hard way,” gruffs the fifty-seven-year-old Ledovsky.
“It’s my souvenir from the war. I lost an eye. The Afghan lost his life. It was a good trade.”
“We’ll get you a better one made out of synthetics. No one has used glass for decades. And the new one will look more natural. No one will be able to tell that you have an artificial eye.”
“No more. I’m going to wear a patch.”
“So you want to look like a pirate?” chides Zubov.
“I am a pirate. Now hurry up. When can I get out?”
Zubov sighs. That’s the problem with these patients. No one ever stays and fully recuperates. They have deals to do, people to screw and victims to kill.
“Can I convince you to stay for two nights?”
“Nyet. Two hours.”
Alexei makes a call.
“Kandinsky’s. May I help you?” says the voice at the other end.
“Get Pietr to bring some food to Zubov’s. Enough for the pigs that work here and me.”
“Naturally, Alexei.
CLICK. Ledovsky puts on a smile. While the doctors may not like his employers, one of the perks of being a doctor here is that three different mob bosses own the five best Russian restaurants in town. They are always trying to impress their physicians by one-upping their fellow gangsters. On any given week, they will have Beluga caviar at least twice. On their birthdays, a limo will pick them and their families to the seats of honor in their restaurants.
The physician smacks his lips in anticipation.
***
Being treated in another facility not quite so elegant is Noah. It is, however, just as discreet and unobtrusive. It is in the spare bedroom turned medical office in the apartment of Dr. Tang.
When Olivia phoned to tell Dr. Tang that she was coming with Noah, Tang dismissed all his other patients. He also made a call for help. Although Noah insisted on “No Western medicine,” he wouldn’t be able to deny Dr. Tang the right to use his son, Dr. Zachariah Tang, an ER doctor in nearby Canal Street General.
Removing a bullet doesn’t need a whole lot of equipment. Television shows tell us that a pair of pliers and tweezers is about all you need. At least, Dr. Tang’s got a bit more than that, and his son brought a few extra toys from his hospital.
The bullet has been removed, and the wound has been cleaned. That will heal, but it’s the unknown concoction that was injected into Noah that is causing problems. Sweat pours out of Noah’s forehead, punctuated with moments of body shuddering as if shivering - not good signs.
Dr. Tang the younger takes a few blood samples and puts them into his kit. “I’ll put a rush and let you know the results. If you need me, call, and I’ll come as soon as I can.”
“Thanks, Dr. Tang.”
“Zach is fine. But before I go, the best place for Noah is for me to get him into a hospital. We can do it fast, we can do it well.”
“Thanks but no thanks,” says Olivia.
“If I can deliver a baby here, I can take care of a little bullet. Go, go!” says father to son.
***
Olivia watches as Dr. Tang inserts thin Chinese acupuncture needles throughout Noah’s body. JJ quietly slips in to see six Chinese suction cups placed on Noah’s body to sucking out toxins.
“Do the feet, JJ.”
No niceties, no greetings needed. Let’s get down to business.
“Yes, Dr. Tang.” JJ begins tapping the needles inserted in Noah’s feet.
“Why the feet, and how long will this take?” asks Olivia.
“The first part of your question is easy. The feet are connected to the liver meridian, and we need to cleanse the toxins from the liver. The second part of ‘how long’ is more difficult. We don’t know the poisons or the strengths. From my experience, there is at least a heroin overdose. If that’s correct, then it depends on how pure it was. But I don’t have a good feeling about this. I think there is something more. It may be hours.”
“I don’t think we have hours,” says JJ. “For all we know, Prince may be injecting Abby and kids with drugs too.”
“But we have no leads, no direction, no idea where to look,” says Olivia. “We need to tap into the NYPD to be able to track down the signal from Abby’s cell phone.”
Olivia makes a call. “Hi, Willie Mays, this is Olivia here.”
“You were next on my call list. Where is everybody? No answer from Walrus, Sam, Abby or JJ? I just got an APB out for JJ for killing two housekeepers and someone in the Russian mob at the 7th Hotel. A witness saw him taking off. Do you know where he is? And how about my son? I haven’t heard from him all day either.”
“Calm down, Officer Mays. There must be a mistake. JJ is in Atlantic City with Abby; they’ve been there since yesterday. Walrus and Sam are trying to impress a busload of young girls. They are not answering any calls from you because that would be like the uncoolest thing in the world to have to report to your dad, especially if he’s a cop. Not to mention that any girl is a lot more interesting than old fogies like us.”
“He better not be getting any of them pregnant.”
“I’ll castrate him myself if he does that. I’ll talk to you later.”
Olivia hangs up and turns to JJ. “You killed three people. Why didn’t you say something?”
“I only killed one,” says JJ stoically. “And that was in self-defense.”
“I believe you, but without Willie Mays, we don’t know anybody else with police-quality GPS to track Abby’s cell phone.”
“It’s not the GPS we need, it’s the location,” says JJ.
“That’s not much help.”
“No, it is. We have to find a connection with Heaven.” JJ stops tapping and brings out the cell phone and shows the video of Prince flexing his muscles to Olivia and Dr. Tang.
“The leopard in the tattoos? That is the same leopard in the Great Hall of Heaven.”
“I know who he is,” says Dr. Tang.
JJ and Olivia turn to the doctor, who goes to his files and pulls out a picture - it’s of a much scrawnier fifteen-year-old Prince. “Is this who you are looking for?”
Olivia and JJ say in unison, “Yes.”
“He is Chin’s son - the Leopard. I treated him up until the time of this picture. He stopped seeing me because I insisted that he stop using steroids before they destroyed his brain and body.”
Suddenly, JJ keels over and passes out. Dr. Tang rips open his shirt to see the deep knife wound inflicted by Igo
r.
“I think you need to call your son back, Dr. Tang,” says Olivia.
Dr. Tang snorts. “This is nothing but a flesh wound. I will have him ready in half an hour.”
“Why didn’t he say anything?” asks Olivia angrily.
As Dr. Tang goes to his arsenal of medicines and pulls out some herbs, gauze and needles, he says, “You don’t know the Shaolin very well, do you, Olivia? A true warrior will never admit that he needs help.”
“I’ve known a lot of Shaolin, including my father. But not asking for help has nothing to do with The Way. It has more to do with stupid male ego and pride. And no amount of acupuncture or medicine can cure that.”
CHAPTER 19
Alexei, sporting his new eye patch, looks out the window, smiling, as if anybody could see him, as he is being driven back to his restaurant. He makes a phone call. Damn it, Igor. Answer the phone.
“Turn on some music, Pietr.”
“Yes, Alexei. The Russian driver turns on the radio. It’s the top of the hour so the hourly news comes on.”
“At the top of the news is the slaying of Russian mobster Igor Petrovich in a most uncharacteristic method at the 7th Hotel in Manhattan. Unlike many gangland hits, there were no wounds of any type on his body. No bullet marks, no knife stabs. His body was severely bruised throughout with much internal injury, leading the police to believe that the killer has a martial arts background. A witness claims to have seen a recent hotel guest fleeing the scene. If any of our listeners see a Chinese man, age thirty, with a muscular build, who answers to the name of “JJ,” please call 911 immediately. Do not, I repeat do not, try to apprehend this man yourself.”
“Turn it off,” roars Alexei.
Alexei makes a call to Prince. “Did you hear that?” bellows Alexei.
“Hear what?”
“One of my men was killed by JJ at the 7th. You were supposed to go there. What the hell were you doing?”