Heather quivered—she was cold. Henry took off his sweater and put it around her. She opened her eyes and groaned, “Hi, Mr. Tan. Um, we…. Uh…”
Then Rayna sat up and retched—there was nothing else to come out except horrible yellow bile.
“Rayna, how could you do this?” cried Vivian. “You must never, ever do this again. Do you understand?”
But Rayna was too sick to respond. She grunted as her glassy eyes rolled upward.
“I could kill you, Henry, for allowing this. She is never going out again. Never. You got it?”
“Shut up, Vivian!”
His outburst shocked Vivian and even the inebriated young girl twitched. Henry had never been so resolute or told Vivian to shut up before.
“Rayna is going to make a lot of mistakes in her life that are much worse than this. If you don’t allow her to make them, this will only get worse. Be thankful that we are around to help pick her up this time. If you keep acting like this every time it happens, she isn’t going to tell us anything and we’ll never know what the problem is.”
“You are an idiot, Henry. God doesn’t want her to get drunk.”
“But God is infinitely understanding and forgiving. And stop throwing God’s name around every time she does something you don’t like.”
That evening marked a new beginning for Rayna. Even though she was too sick to move, she learned one thing: her dad would always be in her corner, no matter what happened.
When she told her parents that she was no longer going to go to church because it was “full of hypocrites,” it was Henry who assuaged Vivian and told her that Rayna had to find her own path.
When she told her parents she was going to enlist in the armed forces instead of becoming a teacher or accountant like her cousins, it was Henry who spent extra time with Vivian, helping her cope with Rayna’s decision to want to defend her country, even in the most dangerous of situations.
And when Rayna fell in love with Tanner, a singer in New York, it was Henry who defended Rayna’s right to fall in love with someone they both disapproved of.
And, when Vivian died a year ago while Rayna was unable to be contacted because she was on a secret mission, it was Henry who went to Syria for one day to hold his daughter in his arms and tell her, “I know you feel guilty about not being at Mom’s funeral, Rayna. Don’t deny it. You feel guilty because you think you hate her for what you think she did to you… She wouldn’t let you go to sleepovers, she gave you a hard time about your drinking and the guys you dated. You think you hate her because of that but you don’t. Why do I say that? Because you also know she was the one who stayed up all night to hold your hand and wipe down your forehead so you would feel better that first time you got drunk with Heather. She never ever said, “I told you so” when you broke up with some of those guys that both of you knew were wrong for you. You say you hate her but I know you don’t. More importantly, she knows you don’t. And, even if you didn’t say goodbye in person, she knows you say so in spirit.”
That night, after her father flew back home, Rayna watched Terms of Endearment and cried the whole time.
Present Day
Popo was still on her knees with her hands folded in prayer, but the elderly woman had fallen asleep. Rayna kissed her, then sat down on the chair beside her father’s hospital bed. She pulled out a souvenir from tonight’s escapade at the restaurant—a bottle of limited edition eighteen-year-old single malt scotch.
She unscrewed the lid and put the bottle directly to her mouth, slugging down an eighth of the bottle. With her body unsuccessful at unwinding from its coiled tension, she took another deep pull. Feeling the jolt from the liquid ambrosia, she closed her eyes and leaned her head back as far as she could.
“I thought I told you not to drink so much,” growled Henry quietly.
Rayna’s eyes filled with tears. “I never was a very good listener.” She got up and went to her father’s bed where he had fallen asleep again. She cradled his head and touched his stubbly face, something she had never seen before. Her father was always meticulous in his grooming.
Rayna was becoming unglued. This time she was more ladylike. She poured the scotch into a glass before downing it. This is the life I have chosen. It won’t end because… because I don’t want it to end. But survival? Is there more than this? Maybe yes, maybe no. What will I be like in ten years… assuming I live that long? But there is one thing I’m grateful for.
Dad is alive.
And that thought brought a smile to her soul.
Chapter Seventy
Tiansahn was a sleepy farming village in southwest China. There were about fifty tumbledown homes, half of which were empty. The families who used to live in them had all been part of the great moth-to-light-like mass migration to the big cities. Those that remained were too old, too stubborn or too sick to travel. They lived in one-room houses with old clay or brick walls, and tile roofs that were decrepit fifty years ago. They still did their laundry and bathing in the river, bathrooms were foul-smelling outhouses, a communal well supplied the drinking water, and open fires were the preferred method of cooking. Somehow, they all managed to eat by working their small plots of land and growing chickens, ducks and the occasional pig.
Yet, despite the poverty, the town had its private charms. A choir of croaking frogs or the chirping of mating swallows soothed the heart. A huge banyan tree covering almost three hundred square yards provided shady relief from the scorching sun. And, amazingly, there was the ubiquitous Internet because some nameless bureaucrat deemed Tiansahn worthy of electricity despite its small population.
One of the little houses was the home where Ling was brought up and where she lived with her grandparents. However, when all the savings ran out when her grandfather got ill, Ling felt she had to go to Guangzhou to earn some money. When Henry brought her back, for the first time since she left, the elderly couple was ecstatic to see her again. They celebrated by killing one of Grandfather’s prize chickens, the main course of a grand feast. Like many Chinese, they preferred chicken to be “almost cooked,” with blood still visible.
Normally, the grandmother cooked just enough for a single meal but, because she wanted to impress and thank Henry, there was way too much to eat. However, because they did not own a refrigerator, the food was left out. In the hot weather, the bacteria in the chicken began to multiply. When the family ate the poultry, all of them got sick.
While Ling was young and strong enough to withstand the onslaught of this variation of bird flu, her grandparents were suffering. They lay on the dirt floor, alternating between the chills and sweating with heat.
Ling was freaked out. There was no money left. And Henry and Rayna had not shown up. Were they liars? Had they abandoned her?
“Ling.”
The young girl turned to the door to see Henry and Rayna entering, carrying foodstuffs and presents. She burst into tears. “I thought you weren’t coming back,” she cried, wrapping her arms around Rayna.
Rayna stroked Ling’s hair, soothing her. “That wouldn’t happen, Ling, but we had some problems to sort out.”
Ling glanced at her grandparents. “They’ve been like this since the day after you left. Can you do something?”
“We’ll bring them to a hospital.”
“The closest one is three hours away. They might not last that long,” wailed the hysterical girl.
“We’ll see what we can do,” said a familiar voice.
All glanced to the door to see Arthur and the doctor who had attended to Rayna at the military hospital.
“Hello, everybody. I’m Arthur and this is my son, Steve,” greeted the Fidelitas board member. “Ling, Henry told me he was worried about your grandfather so I asked him if he would come along and check him out.”
“You’re very kind,” said Henry.
“No, I’m actually a self-centered jerk but... ” He smiled at Rayna. “But I wanted a chance to come and ask you out for dinner and a show.”
> This broken-down dirt house full of disease was hardly a romantic hotspot but…
“That’s the most stereotype date in the universe,” pouted Rayna.
“Yes, but with our dads looking on, I’m not going to ask you to come to my place where we can copulate like minks… especially if your minister father might damn me to hell if we got caught.”
All laughed.
I like this guy. He’s got a sense of humor.
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Also By Wesley Lowe
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The Noah Reid Action Thriller Series
Evil Rises In this prequel novella, rogue monk CHIN arises to redefine Shaolin Kung Fu as a battle plan for his lust for criminal power. Yet in of the darkness glows a glimmer of light… a little boy who might be a savior.
Terror Unleashed - New attorney Noah Reid is catapulted into a brutal Shaolin underworld when his boss is discovered to have bilked billions from Chin, the firm’s biggest client, a psychopathic Kung Fu Master.
Heaven Burning When Noah accompanies his mentor on a journey of death and adventure back to China, Chin’s son King, master of all things connected to snakes, leads a savage charge to recover the family’s illicit fortune with clandestine military precision.
Theft of Innocence Under pressure from New York’s Russian mob to repay a loan, Queenie, Chin’s beguiling daughter, brings her arsenal of winged destruction to pressure Noah to return her family’s fortune, using a group of school kids as leverage.
Slavery Unbound Prince, Chin’s steroid-fueled son, shares a depravity with a Russian mob partner: a lust for children. Noah has taken “their girls” and they want them back. Can Noah shut down this unholy alliance before they drown the Big Apple in depravity?
Ritual Sacrifice Prez, Chin’s eldest daughter, is a cult leader with a purpose. With cash and influence from her followers, crooked politicians and her father, Prez can build a casino empire on the backs of an unsuspecting Native American Tribe. That is unless family nemesis – Noah Reid stops her first.
Find out more at www.wesleyrobertlowe.com
The Rayna Tan Thriller Series
Recruited is the story of why twenty-six-year-old Rayna Tan chose to leave the secretive world of the elite Canadian Forces Special Operations counter-terrorism unit (JTF2) to join an even more shadowy operation, Fidelitas. She’s a fascinating character: stunningly gorgeous, IQ off the charts, a sniper in the league of Chris Kyle… Yes, Rayna has her flaws but overall, she’s one very dangerous and very human lethal weapon.
American Terrorist A video of desecration and beheading in a small Syrian village appears briefly on the deep web. When the sword-wielding executioner proclaims Jihad on America, no one knows whether to take him and his ragtag marauders seriously. Can they deliver? Or is this a cover for a more devious conspiracy? Rayna Tan, ex-Canadian Special Forces and newly minted covert operative, heads the mission to disarm the potential attack and discovers rats among the radicalists—not every terrorist is a true believer.
The Mandarin’s Vendetta When Rayna goes to China to administer justice to corrupt officials and businessmen who caused death and injury thousands of schoolchildren, a heinous plot is discovered: one of the perpetrators, bent on revenge against the American system that allowed his son to die, plans to kill a million Americans with a deadly new drug.
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About the Author
Wesley Robert Lowe began his career in media as a composer for film and television. Music includes film & television scores, as well as four seasons as a composer for Sesame St.
Wanting to see more media projects that feature diversity, he began writing and producing films. Broadcast on regional and network television, as well as exhibitions in international festivals, his work tells authentic stories of the joys, failures and successes of Russian and Chinese diaspora, as well as the First Nations communities.
In the last few years, he has focused on writing fiction.
Contemporary worlds infused with mysticism. Breathless, brain-twisting plots. High-stakes suspense that churns the psyche. Relentless, warp-speed action. Intertwining cultures. Colliding and colluding worlds.
Wes’ passion is to immerse his cross-cultural tales with all of these, to grab readers with stories that hang on deep into the night, long after they’ve turned the last page.
Thrillers that grip the soul.
He has a Master’s of Music degree from the University of Toronto, a Graduate Diploma in Christian Studies from Regent College and an Ontario College Graduate Certificate in Creative Writing from Humber College. When he’s not writing, you can find him playing his 1908 Steinway Grand Piano or roasting his own coffee beans.
He is the Padre for Pacific Unit 280, Chinese Canadian Army, Navy and Air Force Veterans of Canada and a founding member of the Chinese Canadian Military Museum.
Acknowledgements
I am indebted to many who have contributed and helped with this book.
Particular thanks goes to religious places of all beliefs in China, especially during the last often difficult fifty years. Knowing a number of Chinese Christians personally, their willingness to suffer imprisonment and persecution is a real witness.
Inspiration came from Pacific Unit 280, Chinese Canadian WWII veterans, a group I have been privileged to serve as Chaplain for over twenty years. These men and women who fought for Canada, even though they were not considered citizens or had the right to vote, proved to Canada that Chinese deserved a seat at the table. In 1947, they received the right to vote. My grandfather, who was born in Canada, was almost fifty before he was allowed to vote.
Special mention should be made to Col. Howe Lee, Cdr (Ret.) King Wan; author, editor and veteran of two tours in Iraq, R.A. Peters, for his editing and on-site insights; Jun Ares for his striking cover design; JW (dv8.ca) for photography; psychologist Ali Mei; and editor Janet R. Musick for her exceptionally keen eye to detail.
A great big thanks to the Rayna Tan Launch Team whose members have been encouraging and giving many valuable suggestions!
The Mandarin's Vendetta (Rayna Tan Action Thriller Series Book 2) Page 24