SLAVERY UNBOUND: Cruelty & Lust with the Emerging Eastern Mafia (Noah Reid Action Thriller series Book 4)

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SLAVERY UNBOUND: Cruelty & Lust with the Emerging Eastern Mafia (Noah Reid Action Thriller series Book 4) Page 17

by Wesley Robert Lowe


  “Code,” says Noah. The Code is an understanding that this battle will be between the two men only. No one else will be allowed to enter, no extraneous weapons will be used. Man to man only.

  “Code,” replies Prince.

  The two make the Shaolin handsign to each other.

  This is a first for Prince. While Li Peng had trained him extensively in martial arts, the formalities of the Shaolin were never important to Prince. Fighting was just war, and you used every tool possible to achieve victory.

  For Noah, he was brought up immersed in the aura of the Shaolin. But until a few months ago, it was only ever just theoretical, almost religious in nature. He has only become a warrior by necessity, not desire.

  Prince rushes at Noah with flying windmill fists.

  Noah parries each blow with the palms of his hands, then stoops and kicks out with his legs.

  Prince leaps up out of the way of Noah’s attacking feet and kicks the foundation president on his shoulders, sending him to the ground.

  Noah reaches out and grabs Prince’s leg and throws it upward. This might overstretch the tendons of the average person but not Prince. Yes, he is big, but he is flexible, agile and strong.

  Prince goes on the attack. Left twisting hammer fist, right straight blow.

  Then a rapid, relentless series of Leopard blows. With the folding of the first two joints inward, he strikes out with his fore-knuckles at Noah’s throat, chest, arms and temples.

  He follows through with sidekicks to Noah’s legs and butt.

  Prince delivers yet another devastating punch. And another. And another. Every taunt that Noah had thrown at him, every sneer that his father had flung at him powers the hostilities he is inflicting on Noah.

  Prince is the most formidable opponent Noah has ever faced, and the pummeling is taking an emotional, psychological and physical toll.

  Then a thought from his years of sparring against his sifu, Master Wu. The opportunity of defeating the enemy can be provided by the enemy himself.

  And then Noah realizes his mistake: he is fighting Prince on his terms, not his.

  Noah rolls over twenty feet then leaps up confidently—he is not a street thug. Noah is a Shaolin Master.

  Noah charges at Prince with movement and energy of the sun—powerful masses of strength hurled at all parts of Prince’s torso. Unpredictable sequences of hand and feet combinations—kicking, punching, slapping.

  But Prince is not done that easily. Years of an hours-a-day regimen give him the strength, energy and ability to withstand Noah’s assault.

  Prince launches out swirling kick outs, fire punches to the head and abdomen.

  His palms rattle Noah’s head with alternating blows to either side. Prince’s arms and legs attack Noah like the relentless pounding of waves upon the seashore.

  Noah cannot withstand the barrage as the offensive dynamo relentlessly pounds on.

  A lightning series of palm hammer fists at the head and stomach and then two sweeping sidekicks—one from the left and the other from the right send Noah sprawling to the ground.

  Prince leers at his opponent. “Up,” he screams, throwing his arms up in the air the way he’s seen MMA fighters and wrestlers taunt their fallen foes. “Up, up!”

  Prince circles around Noah, arrogant and confident, “Up! Up! Where’s your Shaolin now, Noah? Where’s your God now that you need Him?”

  On the ground, Noah’s dazed. The blows to his head would have knocked out any professional hockey player and likely killed an ordinary human. He hears Prince’s taunts like something from a dream world until “Where’s your Shaolin now? Where’s your God now that you need him?”

  That was Prince’s mistake. You can insult a man about his girlfriend, his car or his haircut, and he’ll be mad but won’t do anything about it. But never, ever insult his dog, his mother or his beliefs. Prince has just insulted Noah’s core beliefs - the power of the Shaolin and the omnipotence of God.

  Exhausted, sweating and breathing hard, sheer willpower drives Noah to stand up.

  Noah shakes his head and glares at Prince. “You are about to experience the power of yin and yang, the power of heaven and hell. The five animals of the Shaolin.”

  Tiger. With the velocity of the powerful cat, Noah’s hand shoots at Prince’s throats.

  Before the son of Chin can respond, Noah spreads his arms like a Crane and claps them like thunder against Prince’s temples.

  Prince reels backward but recovers and charges at Noah, who has dropped to the ground, slithering like a Snake out of Prince’s stomping feet.

  Noah springs to the ground and with the focused, ferocious movements of the Leopard’s paws, grabs Prince by his torso and in the same movement, tosses him into the air.

  As Prince falls to the ground, he grabs Noah and uses him as a cushion to soften his blow. There is a cracking sound of Noah’s ribs breaking. As the big Chinese picks himself up, he asks mockingly, “Is that all?”

  “Nope.” Hiding his pain with the strength and resolve of the Dragon, hard like iron, with the power of a steel bar, Noah leans over and pounds on Prince’s back, sending him falling, knocking his head to the ground.

  A final kick, and Noah's foot lands on the dizzied, unbalanced Prince, knocking the bloodied son of Chin down to the ground.

  “I win. You lose. Now give me the kids,” gasps Noah as he falls to his knees.

  “Unleash hell,” yells Prince.

  So much for the Code. Just the way that Prince provided himself an escape hatch in his first battle in The Arena with the leopards going awry, Prince has got an emergency plan now.

  From the perimeter of the makeshift arena, Prince’s men throw martial arts stars, knives and sharpened nails from leopard’s paws at Noah.

  Unable to avoid them all, half a dozen of the projectiles enter Noah's body. The already injured Noah starts to bleed and falters to the ground.

  Prince orders the henchmen to pull all the kids and Olivia back toward the bus. They try to pick up JJ, but Prince calls out, “Leave him. No time.”

  From The Arena’s entrance, another henchman releases two leopards, which come bounding at the bloodied Noah.

  JJ, this whole time, has been dazed from the injection that Tanya gave him. The effects have been wearing off, and his life passes before his eyes. Why? Why now? What for? It took him years to admit that he was not suited toward being a monk. That decision was thrust upon him when King, Prince’s brother, blew up the isolated mountain monastery that he called home for over twenty years. He thought he had found his calling when Noah asked him to join the foundation. He thought the answers to his personal, sexual and emotional awakening were solved when he met Abby. But the answers to what remained most important - his spiritual essence - remain unanswered and are challenged by what he has gone through.

  He hears a voice through the fog. “JJ, our friends need you.” Five words. One sentence. He couldn’t tell if the voice was male, female or neither. But it was voice that was so familiar yet so distant. It was also exactly what he needed to hear.

  Like Samson breaking free from the shackles that bound him from the pagan temple, JJ exerts the mightiest force to break the hold of the ropes that tie up his body.

  JJ rushes to the two leopards, which are almost upon Noah. He covers the body of his friend as the animals leap at the missionary’s son.

  The animals descend but are totally unprepared for the dervish that JJ has become. Every part of his body is used in attack and defense.

  Hands become talons, feet become catapults, head becomes battering rams, fingers become skewers of flesh and eyeballs.

  The animals leap at JJ, but he is in total ignorance of pain or injury. JJ grabs the jaws of one cat and rips his arms wide, rendering the animal’s mouth useless for attack. Another receives a kick to the torso that punts him directly into the path of the oncoming bus.

  Grabbing Noah, JJ quickly rolls out of the way as the bus’ tires crush the cat. It never had a
chance.

  JJ sees Prince leering at him through the bus window. With his last bit of strength, he takes out his final martial arts star and launches it at the youngest son of Chin.

  The star almost seems to move in slow motion as it travels - images of Prince as a child, Prince watching Chin fight a tiger and Chin berating Prince seem to float in the air.

  In reality, the star moves like a rocket. It passes through the bus’ open window and severs Prince’s jugular.

  And then Frisco comes bounding out of the woods. JJ covers his friend’s body with his own. Noah doesn’t have the strength to push JJ off.

  “It’s okay, Noah. I’m okay... I know who I am.”

  Those are JJ’s final words.

  CHAPTER 25

  This is the second funeral that Noah, Olivia and Sam have attended today. The first one was at the Baptist church that the Potter family attends. Willie Mays was right. Maxine, his wife, does know how to sing her ass off. Her version of “Amazing Grace” as she sent off her husband to heaven had the angels clapping and hollering just the way it did with the three hundred friends, family and fellow officers.

  This is the second visit to the little Chinatown church for Noah in five days. This time though there is no talk of faith, conversion, philosophy... In fact, there is not a lot of talk at all. The mood is somber.

  There’s an old upright piano at the side that Olivia sits at. The rest of the mourners sit silently in the church, looking at two closed caskets. One belongs to Abby, the other to JJ. Although they never made it to be husband and wife on earth, at least they are together now.

  Noah, Sam and Walrus sit in the front pew. Polina, Nina, Larissa, Tanya and the rest of the Russian girls sit behind them. Behind them sit Dr. Tang and his wife. Between Zach and his wife sit Lydia, Ling Ling and Mei.

  It’s only been a few months, but it seems like a lifetime ago that Abby and Olivia were at the Sung family’s gargantuan home in Hong Kong. They were happy, carefree - two spoiled, rich young girls who had life made.

  That evening Abby sang this, her father’s favorite song. They didn’t suspect this then, but this was the kickoff to their journey with the dark side of the Shaolin.

  First, Tommy was killed by a crossbow shot by one of Chin’s men, then her father was burned to death after defeating Chin...

  As Olivia’s voice caresses the haunting ballad, not one eye in the chapel stays dry.

  Oh, Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling

  From glen to glen and down the mountainside.

  The summer's gone. and all the roses falling.

  'Tis you, 'tis you must go. and I must bide.

  But come ye back when summer's in the meadow.

  Or when the valley's hushed and white with snow.

  'Tis I'll be there in sunshine or in shadow.

  Oh, Danny boy, oh, Danny boy, I love you so.

  And when ye come and all the flowers are dying,

  And I am dead, as dead I well may be.

  You'll come and find the place where I am lying

  And kneel and say an ave there for me.

  And I shall hear, though soft your tread above me.

  And on my grave where warmer, sweeter be.

  And ye shall bend and tell me that you love me.

  And I shall sleep in peace until you come to me.

  Noah, Sam, Dr. Tang and Zach join Olivia with the Chinese girls and walk to the front of the pair of caskets. In a traditional Chinese style of respect and honor, they simultaneously make three bows together.

  “Goodbye, Abby. Goodbye, JJ.”

  Dr. Tang sings. There’s a strange yet completely comfortable feel to hearing a Chinese accent in this Irish blessing.

  May the road rise up to meet you.

  May the wind always be at your back.

  May the sun shine warm upon your face,

  and rains fall soft upon your fields.

  And until we meet again,

  May God hold you in the palm of His hand.

  ***

  Zach, Dr. Tang, Olivia and Noah sit in Dr. Tang’s office.

  “Are you sure you want to do this Zach?” asks Noah.

  “Change is good. After fifteen years as an ER doctor, I need a break,” says Zach. “Besides, my wife and I always wanted kids. Ling Ling, Mei, Lydia... we love them already and are going to formally adopt them.”

  “Yes but to take on Abby’s place as well? There is change, and there are seismic shifts. This is a seismic shift,” says Noah.

  “My wife and I will also be there,” says the senior Dr. Tang. “It’s only been a few days, but we have grown so close already.”

  “But are you ready for ‘Abby’s Place’?” asks Olivia. “You’ve getting three new teenage grandchildren, and you’re going to take on a dozen young Russian girls to take care of.”

  “An ER doctor from a big-city hospital and a TCM doctor working in Chinatown is a good base to handle addiction and withdrawal problems,” says Zach.

  “But what about the cultural differences? The girls don’t exactly get along.”

  “They just need time to learn. East is east, and west, and never the twain shall meet,” says Dr. Tang, reciting the Rudyard Kipling poem. “I never believed it, and we are going to prove that.”

  Sam and Walrus pop their heads in through the door.

  “You want some help? I’m an expert in female relationships,” says Sam.

  “And my mom is quitting to join you guys too, so you can get a better deal if you hire the both of us,” pipes up Walrus.

  “The more the merrier. Why not?” asks Dr. Tang.

  “So how about you and Noah? What are your plans after the wedding? Decided on a honeymoon location yet? Europe? Hawaii? Tahiti?”

  Olivia puts her arm into Noah’s. “We’re thinking about the Pacific Northwest. Maybe Oregon? I’ve always wanted to see the big waves off the coast.”

  ***

  Chin’s new skin is remarkable. No blemishes, no spots, no roughness. Tactile, soft and with full sensitivity. In short order, he will be as good as new. No, he will be better than new. It’s been the first time he’s been able to move in months without being in agony.

  The future begins now.

  THE END… I hope you enjoyed SLAVERY UNBOUND. If you did, I hope you’ll give this book a review. Even a positive few words is most helpful as I am grateful for all feedback from my readers. To leave a review, please click:

  AMAZON US AMAZON UK

  Sample: Ritual Sacrifice

  Present Day—Oregon

  A large, dark room with twenty-foot ceilings. Images, statues, and symbols of dragons throughout.

  Floor-to-ceiling banners of fire-breathing monsters. Winged horny creatures with eyes of emeralds. A serpentine beast with several heads…

  At the doorway, a huge, scaly, winged lizard exhales fire at all who enter.

  A pair of stone Chinese dragons flanks the stage at the front of the room.

  Half a dozen multicolored dragons hang from the ceiling, glaring with fiery eyes.

  And most eerily, holograms of these legendary reptiles fly, wander, and waft through the room.

  The dragons are from everywhere. Ancient Rome and Greece. Germany. China. Korea. Finland. Japan. The Philippines.

  This is the Temple of the Dragon, and this is Friday night in Salem. If this were the Salem of colonial Massachusetts, every one of the thirty people in the room would be burned at the stake.

  But it’s not. It’s Salem, Oregon. The flock of acolytes is just another one of the myriad of secret cults and belief systems that are part of contemporary North America.

  Not.

  ***

  Concrete pillars flank each end of the foot-high raised platform. To each pillar is attached synthetic fiber rope. At the end of each rope is a live, adult Komodo dragon. Each greenish-gray dragon is six feet long and 120 pounds with vicious inch-long, serrated shark-like teeth that can eviscerate a wild pig—or human—in seconds. With forked
tongues flickering, the Komodos, the world’s largest lizards, try hard to break free, but with the ropes’ breaking strength of over three thousand pounds, this is an impossibility.

  Why the aggression?

  The goal of these cannibalistic serpents are two live, infant Komodo dragons, ten-ounce creatures with touches of orange and yellow with jagged patterns of white on their leathery, scale-covered skins. An exotic, thirty-two-year-old Chinese woman, standing in the middle of the stage, holds the babies close to her face and licks their flickering tongues as they shoot out.

  Astonishingly, the woman is even more mesmerizing than the dragon. With a jet-black skirt that hangs to the floor, the buttons of her scarlet top are undone, revealing taut, full breasts, each with a dragon tattooed on it. Further enticing is the gold bling on her ears, fingers, belly button, and nipples. Her makeup is like that of a Japanese geisha—white skin, black mascara on the eyebrows and eyelids, crimson lips with touches of red at the extremes of her eyes. Following the Japanese tradition, her hair is pulled back into a raised bun.

  The woman raises the young innocents, arms outstretched, in the direction of her spellbound acolytes.

  Her velvet-toned voice resonates as she addresses her captivated acolytes who stand in front of the platform.

  “Friends, lovers, followers. I will need you more than ever. We have been preparing for this moment for ten years, and the time is now upon us. Are you ready?”

  With a united voice, the devotees intone robotically, “We are ready.”

  It’s a disparate group. Male and female. White, black, Native American, and Asian. Anorexic, obese, and buff. Hetero. Lesbian. Gay. Bisexual. Ages eighteen to sixty-eight. All are nude. All have dragons tattooed on parts of their bodies. Notably, the right cheek of each bum features a Komodo dragon.

 

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