Beautiful Dragons: A Thriller
Page 20
The only surviving Beautiful Dragon had spent the last three weeks hunting down who was responsible for so much death. She even had to cross into China to do so, following the woman to Beijing. There, she’d been told that her target bought a ticket for the “Z” train to Shenyang. It was of the overnight, non-stop variety.
It was the only reason Violet took her time.
She won’t be going anywhere.
Purposely buying a ticket for a rear cabin seat, Violet had entered and stowed her false bag. In reality, it was only stuffed with blankets and pillows, making it look like everyone else’s on board. After she was finished, doing what needed to be done, she’d leave it and exit the train with everyone else.
If her mission went the way she wanted, they would be stopping a lot sooner than planned once the body was discovered. Her informant, Xiao, the schedule manager for the railway, also helped her with the most critical phase. The lights would wink out, exactly when needed, just as she would strike. Xiao made sure that one of his men was on the train, watching the security cameras from the front of the train.
Violet opened the sliding door, entered the enclosed area between the cars, and quickly shut it behind her. She breathed in deep and searched the car in front of her through the small window of the next door. Not seeing anyone that matched her target’s profile, from the back anyway, Violet slid open the door and entered.
The long-distance train had six second-class cars and four of the first-class variation. Violet figured her target would be up in the more expensive section, knowing her as well as she did. Regardless of her hypothesis, she stayed vigilant in her search and made sure to check everyone out.
Moving down the center aisle, she peeked at the occupants around her, relieved that the train wasn’t booked solid. Typically, the seats, two on each side of the aisle, were filled to capacity with people from all walks of life. Even now, she walked by an elderly couple seated directly across from a mother and her two young sons. One of the boys sat on her lap, giggling and drooling as babies did. Given the late hour, there were maybe half as many people as usual.
As she exited the car, she spied her contact through the next door. He saw her too and motioned for her to stay put. He smiled and greeted several more passengers, making his way forward. Being an expert in patience, Violet paused her search and stepped aside, letting a woman around her age pass.
Xiao’s man, someone she’d never met before, bowed to the passenger, and swiftly entered the joint between the cars. The only reason she knew it was him was because of a picture Xiao had shown her when she arrived outside the train station.
“His name is Jung,” Xiao said, “and he expects to be paid en route.”
“Why on the train?” Violet asked, uncomfortable with the idea.
Xiao shrugged. “Apparently, he owes some people in Shenyang a large sum of money.”
“Drugs?”
“No, no… Gambling.” Xiao shrugged again. “We all have our vices. Plus, he won’t be able to meet either of us beforehand without drawing attention to himself…and you.”
Violet’s eyes narrowed. “We can’t have that.” She then handed Xiao an envelope under the café table located next to the station.
He smoothly slid it inside his jacket. “Is it all there?”
Violet became annoyed. “Do you really need to question me?” Xiao didn’t budge, waiting for her to answer. “Yes, it is. Five thousand dollars.”
Smiling, Xiao stood. “I hope you find who you’re looking for, Violet.”
She also stood. “I always do.”
Xiao flashed her smile and left, but not before finishing his drink. She watched him head back the way he had come, presumably back to his post in the back offices. While their man aboard the “Z” train had a chronic gambling problem, Xiao himself was a full-blown alcoholic—a functioning one at that.
He had a past that Violet didn’t want to think about.
So, instead, she pulled a similar-looking envelope from inside her jacket, slid past Jung, all the while shoving it into his coat. While his payout was significantly less than Xiao’s, it was still a robust two-grand.
All he had to do was turn out the lights when signaled to do so.
Simple enough.
Jung nodded and even had the gall to flick his eyebrows in flirtation. Violet reached out, grabbed his collar and pulled him in tight. They were so close that all he had to do was pucker his lips and they would’ve touched hers.
“Do not fail me.” He shook his head in terror. “If you do,” she patted his jacket pocket, “I’m coming back for this…and your head.”
Not needing any confirmation from the man, Violet released him and moved on. She entered the next car and got the same results as the last two: No target and lots of innocent passengers.
She had no gun, which was fine by her. The only weapon she had was the only one she needed. Plus, this kill was a personal one, one that she needed to do by hand. Violet knew it was an awful thing to think, but, then again, she wasn’t exactly a virtuous person.
Quite the opposite indeed.
Violet killed for the betterment of others. She sighed. In the end, she was still just a murderer. Maybe if she was employed by a government agency like, well, like him, she’d think differently of herself. But even he had reservations about some of the things he’d done in his life.
Him…
She wanted to see him again. She wanted to be in his arms, hot breath washing over the back of her neck as he kissed her up and down it. She wanted to feel his strong hands caress her shoulders and back and, well, everywhere else.
Violet blinked hard, instantly erasing the memory from the forefront of her mind. She needed to focus. Her target wouldn’t know she was coming, however, but once she did, Violet could have a fight on her hands.
It would be a fight to the death.
She had no intention of letting her go again. Ever since she escaped through the penthouse’s hidden passage, Violet had been kicking herself for freezing up like she did. The shock of seeing Kyoko dying on the floor with their overseer being the responsible party, Violet couldn’t have done anything but stand still. The fact that the former Dragon wasn’t the one pulling the strings had been too much for her to handle in the moment. She and Roman figured that Ms. Cho was somehow involved but not to the degree that she was.
“Madame” Cho, Violet mentally corrected.
Kyoko was just a pawn at the end of the day, promised power and respect in return for her services. She had been brainwashed from a very young age by the worst of the worst.
Kyoko had been used for her connections too, Violet thought. It all makes sense now.
Kyoko had connections throughout all of Japan and most of Southeast Asia itself. Not even Violet had that many contacts. Nor did Ms. Cho who was too busy playing the role of house mother. She had a front-row seat to the mayhem and never once did she give herself away. She was a truly masterful liar.
That’s what frightened Violet the most. She had confided in her for all of her adult life, never once questioning the woman’s intentions. Ms. Cho had played them all for saps and used them, as Roman had said, “Her private army.”
Like Empress Jingu.
Except, the founder of the Beautiful Dragons was probably rolling in her grave with what Ms. Cho had done to her creation. The empress built the group to function within the shadows, taking out enemies without the Jingu’s “knowledge.” It was the same way that black ops teams operated now. Plausible deniability was a leader's best friend.
In this case, it took only one person to take down a nearly two-thousand-year-old clan of assassins.
And I still don’t know why she did it.
It was an answer Violet wanted before she killed the woman.
The next couple of train cars went by with no success. Violet had even become anxious, beginning to question her intel. It’s not until she reached the second-to-last car that she began to twitch with nervous excitement. She was
n’t happy to be doing what she was doing, just ready for it to finally be over. As long as Madame Cho was alive, people would get hurt—or worse.
Images of the burned-out Third Floor flooded back into her mind. So much so, that she took a seat beside someone, startling him with a squeak of surprise. She turned to him and smiled, non-verbally apologizing for plopping down next to him. Annoyed, the middle-aged Chinaman just grumbled under his breath and returned his attention to his novel.
Violet was about to get up but was stopped by Jung as he made his way back to his post in the locomotive. The move saved the mission and maybe even her life. She was forced to sit back down and wait for him to get moving again. The center aisle was a tight fit to pass by comfortably.
“Hello, there, Ms…”
“Ikami Hirata,” the woman answered.
Violet’s heart stopped. Her eyes snapped to the back of the woman’s head. Hirata was Kyoko’s last name. Could it really be Ms. Cho sitting directly in front of her? The like-surname couldn’t be a coincidence. But, like the Dragons themselves, Ms. Cho was a master of misdirection…and of disguise.
Gone was the gray bob. Now, she sported a long, black mane of hair. It was a convincing disguise too, having a little of a salt and pepper look mixed in. Staying calm, Violet waited for Jung to make his way forward before confronting the older, and still very dangerous keeper.
She gave Jung ten more minutes before pulling out her cell phone and flicking its flash on and off. The man sitting next to her gripped his paperback hard but didn’t voice any annoyance.
Luckily, Jung returned her signal with his own, albeit a louder, verbal one.
“Attention passengers, we’re having some technical issues with the overhead lights. If they do, in fact, go out, please stay seated. I assure you, everything will be all right in a few minutes. Thank you.”
Violet smiled, impressed.
Mr. Paperback mumbled in displeasure at the prospect of losing his only means of light, but nevertheless, he kept to his book. The next step was timing her questioning of Ms. Cho with the lights, all while pulling free her weapon.
Here we go.
She leaned forward, keeping her voice down.
“I’m still trying to figure out why you did what you did.”
She spied the passenger flinching at the sound of her voice. They lived together for nineteen years. Ms. Cho knew it was her without needing to look.
“Nor should you,” she calmly replied, still looking ahead.
Violet laughed. “You don’t think that I can handle the truth after all this time, after all the death you’ve dealt?”
Ms. Cho’s head dipped forward a hair. “Would you believe it truly was just for the money and power?”
Eyes wide, Violet couldn’t believe what she heard. “No, I don’t believe that. I didn’t believe it in the penthouse, and I don’t believe it now.”
“Petty, I know, but it’s the truth.”
“You mean to tell me that you bought and sold countless girls for nothing more than profit!” Violet’s hissed words were loud enough for her neighbor to hear but he’d since put in a set of earbuds and was tuning her out.
“It didn’t start that way.”
“Tell me then, Madame, tell me how it became what it did.”
Ms. Cho shook her head. “Does it matter why?”
Violet leaned in closer. “No, it doesn’t, and,” the lights winked out, casting them in darkness, “either way, you’ve sealed your fate.”
Taking a page out of Ms. Cho’s and also Kyoko’s book, Violet slid the nondescript dagger out of her jacket sleeve and silently launched forward. Yanking the blade left to right, Ruby’s favored weapon was, once again, slathered in blood.
EPILOGUE
It was midday, and the sky was void of cloud cover. It was exactly the kind of weather Roman hoped to have. He kept the promise he made to himself and traveled to Tahiti under the guise one of his aliases. After officially calling it quits via email, he left for the airport with the plan to never return to Tokyo. If it were up to him, he’d never find himself in Japan again—not that he didn’t love the country as a whole.
Too many bad memories, he thought, staring at the pristine water. The only reason he’d go back was to see Willy. She didn’t deserve to be alienated like that. She had done her job admirably and was a dear friend.
He laid back in his hammock, starting on his third beer of the early afternoon. The palms overhead were perfectly situated to give him cover for a few more hours. He could just make out a group of paddleboarders, mostly comprised of college-aged girls and their beefed-up, overcompensating boyfriends.
Roman could sniff out the frauds from a mile away. The way they stood, chest forward, shoulders back, flexing when they didn’t need to. They wanted to impress, and maybe even intimidate, everyone watching.
If only they knew the kinds of people that were out in the world. It was something he hoped these “kids” never learned about. The world itself was cruel and violent—pretty much a disgusting place to exist. But, Roman knew it was all we humans had, and it was certainly better than the alternative.
Death.
That was another reason he left the Company. When you’ve experienced as many close calls with the grave as he had, he knew his time was coming. He didn’t want to overstay his welcome and regret it.
Can you feel regret in the afterlife?
“Punks,” he mumbled to himself, grinning. He could teach those frat boys a thing or two about life. He’d probably get a girl in the end too.
Maybe two.
“Eh…” he took a long pull from his local brew, “not worth it.”
Both weren’t worth it. Girls like that were a dime-a-dozen and the fight would only last a couple of seconds, tops. The real challenge would be to try and not kill the guys.
Taking his drowsy eyes off the water, Roman looked to his right, further down the beach. The resort he was staying at was beautiful and had a name he still couldn’t pronounce. Not that it mattered. He booked the room for a week and then he’d move off to somewhere else, using the generous amount of money he saved up as a sort of all-access pass. He would follow his instincts and continue until he felt like he could, or wanted to, stay put.
Continuing his people-watching, Roman smiled at the swiftness of the staff as they moved up and down the rows of lounge chairs and umbrellaed hammocks. He was lucky and got one of the naturally covered spots thanks to his waitress. Like most all the women working the resort, she was of local descent and stunning to look at.
And that’s all he did.
In another life, he’d have done his best James Bond impression and tried to court the young woman. Her name was Kiki, and she had perfectly straight, waste-length black hair and dark, almond-shaped eyes. Her features reminded him of another woman he’d felt something for in the recent past.
Unlike, Kiki, she was an entirely different breed of human. She was the most unique and complex person he’d ever met. That was saying something too, considering how many times he circumvented the globe, and how many women he’d slept with during those travels.
Then again, you never stayed in one place long enough to ‘really’ get to know anyone.
Before, he was lonely, only ever working and never truly living. Now, it was the same. Here he was, in one of the most stunning environments he’d ever been to and all he could think about was his failures.
“Better than Willy, I guess.”
Roman had actually invited Willy to come along with him and see the world, but the younger woman declined, saying she wanted to stay and continue the work the Beautiful Dragons left behind. Her division, Roman’s old outfit, was now in charge of wrangling in the slave trade in Japan. It was a joint relationship with the local government agencies.
After hearing that, Roman couldn’t be happier for her. They promised each other that they’d to stay in contact too. She was the only person he trusted within the system. She even hinted at maybe needing
some “off-the-books” help down the road.
That made him smile. He wasn’t sure he could live a life like Violet.
Her name brought a frown to his face, returning him to his previously somber state. He knew it was Violet that was making him feel this way but he wasn’t quite ready to accept it. But even after three months of zero contact from her and not even knowing if she was still alive, Roman was still thinking about the purple-haired beauty.
“Excuse me, Mr. Dallas?”
Kiki startled him, causing him to yelp and spill a little of his beer on his thigh. The cold brew felt like daggers in the hot summer heat. If he’d been as sunburnt as some of the folks around him, Roman would’ve been in a world of pain.
Hand to face, Kiki giggled. Roman liked that she wasn’t diving towards him, apologizing for scaring him. She found his floundering amusing. As she should. He would’ve died laughing if their roles were reversed.
Smiling, Roman removed his sunglasses and glanced up at the petite girl. She was holding something he didn’t expect to see.
“What’s that?” he asked, eyeing the drink. It was red, on ice, and huge—but the drink itself wasn’t what caught his attention. It was the color of the umbrella sitting atop it.
Purple…
“Oh,” Kiki replied, returning to her duties, “I was asked to give this to you.”
“I didn’t order… Who’s it from?” he asked taking the drink.
She shrugged.
“You don’t know…” Roman lifted an eyebrow, “…or you won’t tell me?”
Kiki’s eyes lit up. “Both, but…” she turned and headed back towards the outside bar for her next round of deliveries, “I think you have a secret admirer either way.” She stopped and pouted. “If only it were me, Mr. Dallas…” Then, she winked. “Maybe later I can buy you one, yes? You can let me properly apologize for startling you.”
She left before he could reply. Not only was she laying it on pretty thick but in any other world, he’d have accepted her offer without a thought. It was the first time he mentally rejected the idea of sleeping with a wanting woman. He never felt bad about using someone for sex if they wanted it more than he did.