17. Game Over

by Fern Michaels

  “Did someone die?” Ted asked, knowing Harry’s aversion to getting dressed up.

  “No, someone did not die. At least no one I know. I am dressed this way because when someone is about to hand me a check for a quarter of a million dollars, the least I can do is look nice. You two should be ashamed. You look like rag-pickers,” Harry snorted. “When one walks into a bank to deposit a check in that amount, it garners respect. When you two walk in, they’re going to call the cops.”

  “What’s wrong with the way we look?” Espinosa asked defensively. “I showered and shaved. My clothes are clean. I’m a working stiff.”

  Harry went back to his green tea and the paper he had spread out in front of him. “I know you guys saw the paper, but did you see what’s on page three?”

  “Why don’t you just tell us, Mr. Fashion Plate?” Ted retorted, angry with himself that whatever Harry was seeing he’d missed.

  Obviously, Espinosa had missed it, too, because he was leaning over Harry’s shoulder.

  “These two little boxed questions,” said Harry. “Right at the top of the page. The first box asks the question of the reader as to which Supreme Court justice is retiring in June. The second boxed question asks if the vigilantes should be pardoned. Readers are asked to e-mail the Post with their responses.

  “Just before you got here, I heard on Fox News that the Post’s Web site crashed. A few, and they stressed the word few, people were interested enough to ask who the retiring judge is. The rest of the people were voting to pardon the vigilantes. The numbers were in the thousands, and all within twenty minutes of the papers hitting the street. Pretty amazing. I guess Maggie will now move the boxes to the front page until she gets a number she’s happy with. Pretty damn clever, if you ask me.”

  “I can’t believe you said all that, Harry. You usually just grunt. This is exciting.” Espinosa cackled. “By the way, when are your killer friends arriving?”

  “Eat me! Day after tomorrow, and you’re first on my shit list, so bear that in mind,” Harry retorted.

  “Why are you always so damn cranky, Harry?” Ted asked curiously.

  Harry appeared to give Ted’s question some serious thought. “I think it might have something to do with dealing with dumb shits like you two day in and day out. And the fact that you can’t keep your lip zipped. You weaseled on Cosmo Cricket. Does that answer your question?” Harry snapped.

  “It does!” Ted said, saluting smartly. “However, now that I am about to become financially independent, I have turned over a new leaf. This is the new Ted Robinson, intrepid reporter, saluting here.”

  “Yeah, right. Maggie snaps her fingers, and you’re off and running.” Espinosa cackled again.

  Ted just looked sheepish.

  “Enough of this frivolity,” said Harry. “I think we should be heading out for our appointment. May I say one more time how tacky you both look?” Harry shrugged his slim frame under the designer sport jacket, adjusted his power tie, then shot his cuffs. “Stay behind me and pretend you do not know me. Is that clear, gentlemen?”

  Espinosa continued to cackle. “Ted, who is this guy?”

  “Someone Jack Emery introduced us to a lifetime ago. Move it, Espinosa, before this schmuck decides to take a swing at us. Listen,” Ted hissed, “we are doing the right thing, aren’t we?”

  Espinosa stopped cackling long enough to look worried. “This is a hell of a time to wonder about it, Ted. It sounds good, feels even better, and I sure can use the money. Think in terms of how much cat litter you can now buy by the truckload. You can store it all in your new attached garage, which will be attached to the new house you’re going to buy. Which then opens up another can of worms. Once you have a house with an attached garage, complete with designer kitchen, fireplace, and one of those showers with fifty jets to pummel your body, Maggie is going to be on you like white on rice. There’s no way she’s going to wait for her fingernails to grow out. So, yeah, this is the right thing we’re doing.”

  “Shut the hell up, Espinosa,” Ted said. He was starting to feel sick to his stomach.

  Thirty minutes later the cab they were in rolled to the curb outside a two-story brick building in Georgetown—Nikki Quinn’s all-female law firm.

  “I should have known when I saw the address on the card. It seemed familiar, but I missed it,” Ted said, slapping at his forehead.

  “That’s because you’re stupid,” Harry said, getting out of the cab and leaving Ted or Espinosa to pay the driver.

  “Pony up, boys. The fare was twenty bucks, and I gave him a five-dollar tip. I no longer have an expense account.” Ted stood still, his hand out until Harry and Espinosa each slapped eight dollars into it. “See, now we’re getting along. Did I say one word about putting in the extra dollar? No, I did not. I could have asked for thirty-three cents from each of you, but I didn’t. Fair is fair.”

  Harry turned around, his serene countenance scaring the hell out of Ted, who backed up three steps.

  “I like being generous,” Ted said.

  Inside, the receptionist hustled the trio down a hall to a conference room, which held trays of pastries, fresh fruit, an urn of coffee, and crystal pitchers of orange juice. Bert and Jack were munching on Danish. Their meaningless conversation came to a halt as Ted and Espinosa sat down.

  The five of them looked at each other, but no one said a word. Their expressions, however, clearly questioned why they were all there.

  “See you made the headlines, Bert,” Ted said.

  “Yeah,” the ex-director said. “Kind of gave me a jolt when I saw it in black and white.”

  “You guys see the boxes on page three?” When Bert and Jack just stared at Harry, he elaborated.

  “Maggie is on it, eh?”

  “And,” Espinosa said quietly, “he did not cave in to Maggie this morning, so our secret that isn’t a secret is still safe. What about you, Jack?”

  “I walked out with my bag of M&M’s, my Montblanc pen, and didn’t look back,” Jack reported. “Took me ten minutes to assign my case-load, another ten minutes listening to my boss harangue me, and I am now a free agent. I have to admit I felt crappy about not giving notice, but when they fire someone, it’s on the spot without notice, so I managed to stifle my guilt. I’m looking forward to that trip to the bank. Unemployed with a quarter of a million dollars in the bank. Works for me, gentlemen.”

  “The best part is we have a month off before we show up for…uh…boot camp. Then thirty days later we take over Global Securities. Elias Cummings asked if we could use an old codger as a consultant, and I said yes. Just for the record, he knows the Mideast like the back of his hand. I think, boys, we just had ourselves one hell of a coup,” Bert said.

  “How come you guys are so quiet?” Jack asked as he fixed his gaze on Ted, Harry, and Espinosa.

  “How about fear of the unknown, opposed to the tried, true, and familiar?” Ted said.

  “Nothing ventured, nothing gained, I always say,” Jack said.

  “Yeah, I say that, too.” Bert guffawed.

  The door to the conference room opened, and Hank Jellicoe, followed by a dumpy older lady in a bright red suit, entered the room. “Time is money, boys, so let’s get right to it. Olive, meet my new boys, Bert Navarro, Jack Emery, Harry Wong, Ted Robinson, and Joe Espinosa. Boys, this is Olive Kramer. She comes highly recommended by Lizzie Fox. Lizzie, however, will be overseeing the final details of our little venture. I think it’s safe to say, you’re all in good hands. Olive is going to give you your contracts. Jack, Bert, you’re both lawyers. Read over the contracts. Make sure you’re happy with them. Any questions, ring the buzzer there on the wall. Olive and I have some other business to take care of. Your signing bonuses are in the envelopes attached to the last page of the contracts. When you’re finished, give two short buzzes, and we’ll do the cleanup.”

  “Sixty fucking pages!” Jack said. “What the hell kind of contracts are these?”

  “The kind where you sign y
our life away,” Bert said. “I’ll take the first thirty pages. You take the last thirty. You know what to look for, and so do I.”

  Ted, Harry, and Espinosa flipped through the thick contract, their eyes glazing over at the legalese in front of them. No one opened the envelope stapled to the last page. With nothing else to do, they all reached for the food in the middle of the conference table. Espinosa poured coffee for everyone, even Harry, who actually drank it.

  An hour later, Bert looked at Jack and Jack looked at Bert. Both nodded.

  “It’s fair. No surprises. Flex your fingers, gentlemen, and sign your name to the last page,” Bert directed. “I think once you sign your name, it will be okay to open the envelope. However, do not sign the check until you are at the bank, with a bank officer.”

  The only sound to be heard in the room was the faint scratching sound of pens as they flew across the pages. The sound of the envelopes ripping was thunderclap loud. The sound of five indrawn breaths was even louder.

  “I never, ever saw a check made out for this amount of money,” Harry said. “Particularly one with my name on it.”

  Bert reached out and pressed the buzzer on the wall twice. Olive what’s-her-name and Jellicoe entered within seconds.

  Olive scanned the back pages of all five contracts, nodded, and left the room, the five torn envelopes in her hand.

  The men shook hands all around. There was no conversation, but Jellicoe pointed to a young woman carrying five very large manila envelopes. “Your insurance packets, car insurance info, life insurance, etc. I’ll be e-mailing all of you thirty days from now. See ya,” he said, striding out of the room.

  “I guess it’s official, guys. We’re now employees of Global Securities,” Jack said.

  “Should we celebrate?” Espinosa asked.

  “Yeah, we should, but not till after we hit the bank,” Ted said.

  “How about this?” Jack asked. “We each go to our respective banks, then meet up at my house. I’ll pick up some Chinese. How’s that sound?”

  The others agreed that it worked for them.

  Outside, the boys separated, sappy grins on their faces.

  Chapter 21

  Jack Emery, duffel bag slung over his shoulder, parked his car outside Harry Wong’s dojo. He walked around to the back of the building and let himself in. He felt tense, uncertain as to why Harry had called him. Then again, Harry never did anything without a reason. It was way too quiet for midmorning. Maybe Harry was meditating. Jack tried to make as little noise as possible, just in case. He didn’t call out but entered the workout room as though he belonged or, at the very least, was coming for instruction.

  Jack gaped, then he gawked, and then he swallowed hard as he tried to focus on what he was seeing, which was ten men of indeterminate age, all dressed in white martial arts garb, each with a wide black belt at the waist. Harry was dressed the same way.

  He remembered what his mother used to say. Jack, does the cat have your tongue? In this case, the cat definitely did have his tongue. Instead of offering up a greeting, Jack bowed low. The men in front of him bowed, too, even Harry. Jack felt light-headed.

  “What’s up, Kemo Sabe?”

  Jack finally found his tongue. “Not much, Harry. Just trying to acclimate myself to my new position in life. You going to introduce me or what?”

  Harry grinned. “Jack, I want you to meet the ten deadliest men in the world.”

  Jack nodded, his heart kicking up an extra beat as Harry rattled off names with too many x’s, which Jack would never remember or be able to pronounce. When he was finished, everyone bowed low.

  One of the men, who looked to be about sixty years of age but was probably a hundred and ten, jabbered something as he jerked his head in Jack’s direction. Harry jabbered back, then said in English, “He’s my brother.” The men looked comically skeptical but nodded. Some of the men even smiled. They laughed outright when Harry told them that “his brother,” Jack, had a black belt, and that he himself had trained him, and that they were evenly matched. Show-off that he was, Jack bowed once more.

  More jabbering at the speed of light.

  “It’s not polite to speak a foreign language in front of someone, especially when the person under discussion doesn’t understand what’s being said,” Jack huffed.

  The old guy, whose skinny arms were like ropes, eyed Jack and said quietly, “Harry-san did not want to embarrass you, Jack-san. He told us you are his brother, that he would trust his life to you, that if he had to, he would die for you, even though you are not of his blood. He told us you are a learned man, versed in the law of your land, and that you do not take shit from anyone.” This was all said in impeccable English.

  “You happy now, Jack?” Harry asked, a strange look on his face.

  “Funny you should say that, Harry. I feel the same way about you.” To the others’ delight, Jack bent down and kissed Harry on the cheek. He was airborne a second later, then landed with a thump on the mat.

  The others crowded around, murmuring strange words. The old man held out a hand to pull Jack to his feet.

  “You know I let him do that, right?” Jack said.

  Solemn nods.

  Jack turned to Harry. “I’m meeting up with the guys and heading to the mountain. Dress rehearsal for the big party. You coming, staying, what? I’ve been trying to call you, but you turned your cell off. That’s why I’m really here. Plus, you called when I was in the shower, and when I tried to call you back, you weren’t answering.”

  Harry shrugged. “What do you want from me, Jack? I have ten of the most important people in the world right here. At least to me, they are. The last I heard, the rehearsal was two days away. I wanted to brief these guys on my own.”

  “That makes sense, but how are you going to do that if you aren’t briefed? Maybe you can set up a webcam or something if you’re planning on staying here.”

  “Surely you jest,” Harry said, favoring Jack with one of his ominous expressions.

  “Yeah, I’m jesting. I don’t know what to tell you, then. Jellicoe is going to be on the mountain, and he’s got pictures of everything, maps, and he’s in on the security that’s going to be in place. I don’t know how your guests are going to figure in on it.”

  “We’re all very adaptable. They’re smart enough to figure out the good guys from the bad guys. I’ll be there to point the way,” Harry said.

  “What about Yoko?” Harry never missed a chance to be with his beloved.

  “Yoko will understand.”

  “So, where’s everyone staying? You cooking, or do they live off weeds and that other crap you eat?”

  Harry pointed to a neat pile of bedrolls in the far corner of the room. “Takeout,” he said. “And before you can ask, these guys came on their own dime, under their own power. You know that old Michael Jackson song ‘I’ll Be There’? That’s all it took, me calling their name, and here they are. By the same token, if they ever need me, I drop things on a dime, and I’m there. I’m just telling you this for future reference.”

  A Brazilian by the name of Jaoa stepped forward and let loose with a string of something it was impossible to follow, but Harry seemed to be getting it all. “He wants to know if we want el presidente kidnapped. He would be honored, as would his colleagues, to do that for us.”

  “Uh…maybe another time. Tell him I appreciate the offer, though.”

  Another one of the ten stepped forward. He, too, rattled off a long question.

  “Bomani stands for ‘mighty warrior’,” said Harry. “He’s from Malawi, and he wants to know what they’re supposed to do with all the dead bodies.”

  “Jesus Christ, Harry, what the hell did you tell those guys?” asked Jack.

  The ten men standing in front of Jack burst out laughing.

  “I told them you were a dumb shit and to yank your chain,” Harry replied. “They know exactly what’s going on. They know what to do and how to do it. No one will be left standing, but that doe
sn’t mean they won’t rise to walk again. They will, but with difficulty. Anything else?”

  Jack decided to quit while he was ahead. He bowed low and started toward the door.

  Harry caught up with him and handed him a little enamel box. “Will you give this to Yoko?”

  “Sure. No problem. Listen, Harry, about those guys back there. Which one can catch a bullet?” Jack asked fretfully.

  His face more serious than Jack had ever seen it, Harry replied, “All of them.”

  “You’re full of shit, Harry.”

  Harry’s face grew even more serious. “No, Jack, I’m not.”

  Jack believed him. “Listen, Harry, how about if I send over a guy I know who can set up a computer and webcam? I really want you to sit in on the meeting. This is just way too important to leave anything to chance. What do you say?”

  “Okay, Jack. Make it for late this afternoon, though. Do not look inside the box. If you do, I’ll have to kill you.”

  “If you tell me what’s in it, I won’t have to peek.”

  “It’s a perfect pearl. It’s what I want to have set into a ring for Yoko’s engagement ring. I want her approval before I do it. My friend back there, Chin-Haex, whose name means ‘truth in the ocean depth’, is from Korea. He goes all over the world to dive for pearls when he isn’t practicing his art. He brought me the pearl. There is not another one like it in the whole world. Don’t lose it, Jack.”

  “I’ll guard it with my life, Harry. And I won’t open it. Who knew you were such a romantic, you dumb shit?”

  Harry laughed and gave Jack a formal bow, which Jack returned.

  “See ya,” said Jack.

  “Yeah, see ya.”

  Less than a mile away, Martine Connor was sitting down to a luncheon with five East Coast governors. After the luncheon, they would discuss highway issues for forty minutes, until she had to scurry to the West Wing to meet with the chairman of the Federal Reserve. She chatted, holding up her end of the conversation, but her mind was elsewhere. She thought about how quickly she’d reinstated Henry Jellicoe’s clearance, which she’d ordered canceled. Her mind was also on Lizzie and what was going to go down on the premises three days from now.