1. Weekend Warriors

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1. Weekend Warriors Page 19

by Fern Michaels


  “You knew? You little rascal!” Myra said. Nikki laughed.

  They could have been simply a group of young people getting together to play catch-up, or possibly a group of old friends enjoying dinner together.

  “I had a date!” Kathryn blurted out, her face rosy pink. She looked around the table at the stunned looks.

  “Tell me you didn’t wear that flannel shirt and those Frye boots,” Alexis said.

  “No, I didn’t wear them. I got dressed up. Pantyhose, makeup, the whole magilla.”

  “And?” the others chorused as one.

  “And nothing. Murphy didn’t like him. By the end of the evening he was all over me. I had to deck him, at which point he got a little pissy with me. He was so good-looking he made my eyes water. But I won’t be seeing him again. Now, don’t ask me any questions because I told you the whole thing.”

  “I had a date, too,” Alexis said. “One of the women I shop for fixed me up with her next-door neighbor. Nice guy. He manages La Belle, that new restaurant in D.C. The food was excellent. He asked me out again. I said yes.” Everyone clapped their approval.

  “I bought a plasma TV,” Nikki said.

  “I had to get a new transmission for my car,” Isabelle said.

  “Well, nothing is new in my life,” Yoko said. “I ordered two thousand poinsettias for the holidays. With Lu Chow helping us I will be able to get away for your mission, Myra. I owe you many thanks for allowing him to work at odd times for us. My husband likes him very much.”

  “That leaves you, Charles. Share with us what you’ve been up to,” Kathryn said.

  Charles chuckled. “I’ve been trying to amuse Myra because she missed you all so much. In my free time I’ve been working on the details of her mission.”

  “Guess that means we’re all caught up. Let’s clear up this mess,” Nikki said, waving at the table, “so we can get down to business.”

  The war room, as they called it, was warm and cozy. Computer monitors lined the walls, along with television monitors tuned to the three major cable networks: CNN, MSNBC and Fox. Directly in the women’s line of vision was an oversized monitor showing the scales of justice, with Lady Justice looking down on them.

  A soft whirring could be heard above the quiet tones on the televisions. A fortune in the latest high-tech equipment was at Charles’s fingertips. Some of the equipment was so advanced even the FBI didn’t have it. “Spare no expense, get the best so the girls are kept safe,” Myra had said. And Charles had done just that. He was Lord Supreme in this room and everyone knew it.

  Myra usually presided over the meetings, but as it was her mission that was to be discussed this evening, Nikki rose and addressed the group.

  “This is where we all give input after Myra tells us what she wants done to the man who killed Barbara. We all know he’s back in China and that’s our first hurdle. I personally don’t see any way to entice him back here, so that means we have to go there. We’ll have to figure out a way to do that, of course. First, though, I think Myra might want to say something. Myra, the floor is yours,” Nikki said, sitting down.

  Myra stood up, her legs wobbly. She grasped the edge of the table with both hands as she stared around at the women who were now like daughters to her. They were her family and she knew that, no matter what she asked of them, they would do it, if humanly possible. How much should she ask of them? Going to a foreign country to seek her vengeance seemed extreme. Still, there really was no other way to punish her daughter’s killer. She looked from one to the other, recognizing each one’s particular strength. If anyone could help her, it was these five beautiful, talented women.

  Myra licked at her dry lips. “I…My justice is going to be dangerous to all of you. I don’t know if I have the courage to ask you to…to help me. I won’t be offended if you want to opt out of my mission. Somehow, some way, I’ll get justice for my daughter. What I’m trying to say is, if anything happened to any of you, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. This won’t be anything like Kathryn’s or Julia’s missions.

  “You all know Charles’s background, and we’ll be operating in his field of expertise. But none of you are Charles and none of you are like the operatives he worked with when he was in Her Majesty’s service. Right away, that puts us all at a disadvantage.”

  Kathryn, always the most vocal of the group, squawked her displeasure at what Myra was saying. “Myra, Myra, you’re forgetting something. We’re women! That alone gives us an edge! I rest my case.” Everyone cheered, including Charles. Myra grinned from ear to ear.

  “Well said, Kathryn. You are forgiven, dear. How stupid of me to forget women can do anything they set their minds to. I think I might be a little overwhelmed at this point. Now, let’s decide how we are going to take care of Mr. John Chai, my daughter’s killer.”

  “If Julia was here, she could do a little slice and dice with a very dull knife. But since she isn’t here, I’ll volunteer to do the honors, and if he bleeds to death, oh, well,” Alexis said.

  “That’s too good for him. He needs to suffer. His father needs to suffer for protecting him. Let’s see what Charles has come up with.”

  Charles shuffled through the papers in front of him. When he had them in order, images appeared on the screen as Lady Justice faded away. “This is John Chai.” A second picture appeared. “This is Chai Ming, China’s former Ambassador to the United States. He is retired now and living in Hong Kong. From what I’ve been able to garner from my sources, Chai Ming has a pretty tight rein on his playboy son.” Charles sought Myra’s eye. “I haven’t been able to find any evidence of employment of any kind. I would assume he’s living off the largesse of his father, Chai Ming. John’s Harvard education was a waste.”

  “Is he still covered under the law of diplomatic immunity even though his father is retired?” Yoko asked.

  “Yes, but he cannot return to the United States for fear of reprisals, that sort of thing. It’s obvious the man stays close to home under his father’s supervision. Sooner or later, he’s going to wander off the reservation. It’s a given that he will not return here to America. That means we will bring him here. Unwillingly, of course.”

  The women gasped as one. “You mean we’re going to go to China and…and…”

  “Snatch the son of a bitch?” Kathryn said. “Yep, that’s what it means all right.”

  “Tell us how we are going to get inside China, snatch this guy, and get back out,” Nikki demanded. “I would think the Chai family are watched as closely as our Secret Service agents watch over our retired politicians.”

  Charles nodded. “You’re right, Nikki, but in China they are watched even more closely. I can’t swear to this, but I do know how the Chinese think in these matters. It’s doubtful Ming’s own eye is on his son. There are hundreds of eyes on him. They don’t want any kind of scandal that will make them lose face. Family is very important. Respect of one’s family is paramount.”

  Myra’s eyes pooled with tears. “If it’s impossible, why are we even discussing the matter? Why was I so foolish to think we could finally get to…that…hellish person?”

  “Myra, dear, it is not impossible to get to John Chai. However, it will be a very dangerous and difficult mission for all of us. We are going to need a lot of outside help.”

  “What kind of help?” Isabelle asked nervously.

  “Chinese help. In…ah…in my other life, I made friends with some very unlikely people. People that I was forced to depend on to stay alive. One develops, over time, instincts where people are concerned. I have a friend named Su Zhow Li. He got me out of a rather horrid situation and then I was able to save his life later on. He is probably in his mid-seventies by now if he is still alive. I haven’t been able to renew old friendships since moving here. That was one of the conditions of my transfer from England to America. I’m now willing to ignore that condition.

  “Li was born in China but spent many years living in England. His father was British, his mo
ther came from a very well-to-do Chinese family. In the early fifties, as some of you may know, China undertook a massive economic and social reconstruction program. China’s new leaders curbed inflation by restoring the economy, and rebuilt many of its war-damaged industrial plants.” It had been years since Li told him this story, and Charles wondered if he was remembering everything correctly.

  “China’s new leaders, with their new-found authority, wedged their way into almost every phase of Chinese life. It worked for a few years, then Mao Zedong, founder of the People’s Republic, broke away from the Soviet model of Communism and announced what he thought of as an even better economic system. They called it the Great Leap Forward. The goal was to raise industrial and agricultural production. They formed communes. People had factories in their back yards. It was disastrous because the normal market mechanisms were disrupted, and so agricultural production fell behind. The Chinese people exhausted themselves by producing what later turned out to be shoddy goods that were not fit for sale.”

  “Tell me about it,” Yoko grumbled. “I wouldn’t buy something that said ‘made in China’ for all the tea in China.” She giggled at her witticism.

  “Bad timing, poor planning, whatever you want to call it, the Chinese people were starving. Around this time, Li’s family sought passage to his father’s homeland.”

  Charles knew he’d piqued the women’s interest when Kathryn asked, “How did they manage to get out of China?”

  Charles grinned wryly. “Very carefully, that’s how. Li never gave me all the details, but he did say it was a long, dangerous journey. Li’s mother had connections and money. They finally arrived in England and amassed a fortune in silks. Li was sent to America and graduated from Harvard at the top of his class. He is a brilliant man. Years and years later, he returned to Hong Kong a very wealthy man.”

  “Is he going to help us?” Nikki asked.

  “Patience, my dear, patience,” Charles said.

  Myra banged her clenched fist on the table. “I have no patience, Charles. Please, get to the point. Do you have a plan?” Her tone of voice said quite clearly that Charles had better have a plan.

  Evidently Charles thought so, too. “The reason I brought up my old friend Li is because he has a private airstrip outside of Hong Kong.”

  The silence in the room was palpable as the women digested Charles’s words. That brought it all front and center. They were going to China.

  “I’m waiting for Li to contact me via a scrambled phone. I’ll have more details as soon as I hear from him.” Charles looked around at the sisters. They all looked worried, except Myra who was smiling serenely. “This…caper…will test your skills to the fullest.”

  “Like hacking off three guys’ balls didn’t take skill!” Kathryn hooted, referring to their first mission. The others clapped their hands in agreement. “And let’s not forget those creeps we just sent off to Africa. Skill is knowing what to do at precisely the right moment. As women we have a honed instinct that allows us to improvise in a heartbeat.”

  The women clapped again. Myra clapped the loudest, her eyes bright and shiny.

  Don’t miss the other novels in Fern Michaels’

  exciting Sisterhood Series!

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  Prologue

  Myra Rutledge, heiress to a Fortune 500 candy company, looked around her state-of-the-art kitchen at the pots bubbling on the stove and at the table set for two. Even though it was late afternoon, the sun danced through the stained-glass ornaments hanging on the kitchen window, creating rainbows on the white walls all around her. The girls — that’s how she thought of Barbara and Nikki — had made the colorful ornaments for her as gifts one year at summer camp.

  She’d adopted Nikki at a young age, but she and Barbara couldn’t have been more alike than if they’d come out of her womb at the same time. Barbara was gone now, killed by a hit-andrun driver in the District — a man with diplomatic immunity.

  Myra tried her best not to let maudlin thoughts overcome her, but sometimes, like now at the end of the day, she thought about her two girls and the dangerous path she’d embarked on. She needed to fortify herself against such thoughts because she knew they weren’t going to go away on their own. A snifter of brandy helped a little. She poured generously, eyes watering at the first massive gulp. She always gulped brandy even though she knew it should be sipped. She took another mighty gulp as she looked at the clock. The girls of the Sisterhood would be arriving before nightfall, to prepare for their second mission. The thought warmed her more than the brandy did. They were like daughters now, and she loved them all.

  She was worried a little about Alexis, though. She’d mentioned her worry to her live-in companion, Charles, the way she mentioned everything that bothered her, and he’d agreed that perhaps Alexis wasn’t quite ready for her mission. If not, they’d open the shoe box, fall back and regroup. It wouldn’t be a problem. With Charles at the helm, it would all go smoothly.

  There was another problem, though, outside of the Sisterhood. Assistant District Attorney Jack Emery, Nikki’s fiancé. Ex-fiancé to be more precise.

  Myra set the glass down on the table and massaged her temples.

  “You’re at it again, eh, Mom?”

  Myra’s head jerked upright as she looked around. One of the stained glass ornaments, a red tulip hanging in the window was jiggling on its little hook. “Barbara?”

  Dear Sweet Girl, I was sitting here thinking about you and Nikki when you were little. I miss you so.

  I know, Mom, but I’m always close by. I’m looking at you right now. Don’t worry so much. Things will work out. Trust Nikki.

  But Jack…Jack could ruin everything.

  Nikki won’t allow it, Mom. I think what you’re doing is super. That first mission of Kathryn’s was really kick-ass. Thanks, Mom. I know you’re doing it for me, and I can’t wait till it’s your turn. I’ll be with you every step of the way.

  Myra looked down into her brandy glass. Was she really talking to her dead daughter? Was her dead daughter actually communicating with her? Or was it the brandy? She finished it off, not wanting to let go of her daughter’s voice.

  Easy on the sauce, Mom. I’d hate to take away a vision of my Mom dancing on the table. I know how rowdy you can get. I’m teasing, Mom.

  I know, dear. I’m feeling a little light-headed right now just talking to you. I wish…oh, Barbara, I wish so many things.

  Don’t, Mom. You can’t unring the bell. I just want you to know how proud I am of what you and the girls are doing. Sometimes…sometimes you simply have to take charge and make things come out right. Kathryn is a new person these days. You’re right about, Alexis, too. She isn’t ready, but, Mom, let her be the one to tell you she isn’t ready. Don’t make the decision for her. And, Mom, just keep doing what you’re doing.”

  Oh, I will, dear, I will. I just thank God I have the money to fund this venture. And to think I don’t even like candy.

  I hear Charles coming. I’m going upstairs to spend some time with Willie. I love you, Mom.

  Myra smiled at the mention of Barbara’s tattered teddy bear.

  When Nikki moved back here to the farm she started to sleep with Willie so he wouldn’t miss you so much.

  I know, Mom. Trust Nikki. And don’t worry about Jack. Nik has it under control. Love you, Mom.

  Myra was up and off the chair in the blink of an eye. She ran over to the kitchen window to touch the stained-glass ornament that was now still. Her hand flew to her mouth to stifle a sob.

  She felt Charles’s hand on her shoulder. She turned around to bury her head in his broad chest. “She was here, Charles. We talked.”

  Charles Martin, ex-M16 operative who had devoted most of his life to Her Majesty, eyed the brandy bottle and the empty glass. “I’m glad, Myra. I’ll finish up here. Why don’t you check the b
edrooms to be sure everything is ready for the girls. Did you buy something special for Kathryn’s dog, Murphy?”

  “Yes, Charles, I did — a chew toy and a box of jumbo biscuits. He’s a wonderful animal, isn’t he?”

  “Yes, Myra, he is.”

  “I love you, Charles. I wish…I wish…never mind. Barbara said…it’s all right, Charles. I’m not dotty. Isn’t that a term you Brits use?”

  “I’m an American now, dear. I say nutsey cuckoo like the rest of you. You are my dear, sweet Myra and I love you with all my heart. Scoot!”

  Myra smiled. She adored flirting with the love of her life. “I’m going. I might have overcooked that mess on the stove, Charles.”

  “I’m throwing it all out, Myra, and starting over. It’s all right, dear. You have other wonderful talents.” He twirled the dish towel and then playfully swatted her backside.

  Myra laughed all the way down the hall and was still laughing as she climbed the steps to the second floor.

  Chapter One

  Alexis Thorn frowned as she looked around her small apartment. There was nothing about the tiny place to suggest permanency of any kind. There were no knickknacks, no green plants, no family pictures. It was a place to sleep, a place to come home to at the end of the day, nothing more. How could it be anything else when her name wasn’t even Alexis Thorn? Alexis Thorn was an alias. She’d taken a new name with the help of her lawyer, Nicole Quinn, when she got out of prison for a crime she didn’t commit. She didn’t want to think about why she was living in this run-down apartment but she had to think about it, like it or not.

  Without Nicole Quinn she didn’t know where she’d be. Nikki had gotten her a job as a personal shopper to some of Virginia’s older, wealthy residents. It was a far cry from being a high powered securities broker in her other life, that was for sure.

 

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